#Her merciless protector

[blkgrlsread2]

It's not whom you can live with that matters, but more, whom you couldn't live without.

R.G. Angel, Her Merciless Protector

[bvidzsoo]

Marionette

The second star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Kang Yeosang x female reader

☆ Warning: nudity, cursing, consensual smut, corruption kink, blood, violence, cutting off a hand, allusion to pedophilia (but he pays for it lol karma is a bitch)

☆ Word count: 8.6k

☆ Rating: nsfw

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, Yeosang is Aphrodite's son, forbidden relation

☆ Summary: Doomed from the beginning, your mother, Hera, only saw a weapon in you. If you had once thought she loved you, she proved you wrong the second she cast you away once you failed to kill her enemy's son. Yeosang, Aphrodite's dearest and most prized offspring.

☆ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Second instalment of this series is here, and I swear to God this is the last time I write it in one setting bcz my wrist is falling off currently lol. I really really like this part, I am so curious to hear what you all think of it ! I genuinely appreciate your feedback, and the ones you've left on the previous part legit had me giggling and in tears, I love you all! <3 The taglist is still open, so lmk if you want to be added to it. This is a small side note, but I've read not too long ago a Yungi story that is absolutely amazing and is a Greek mythology au, and whenever I'm writing a part for this series I get reminded of it, so, let me share it with you if you are curious to read it, it's so good!! I'll point out a few things before I let you read the story:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love, beauty, desire, and all aspects of sexuality ★ Hera is the Goddess of marriage, women, and family, and the protector of women during childbirth ★ Athena is the Goddess of war, handicraft, and wisdom and the patroness of Athens ★ Hades is the God of the underworld ★ Dionysus is the God of wine-making, orchards and fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, and theatre ★ Tartarus lies far beneath the disk of the world, under Hades' underworld, it's used as the ultimate of prisons, unpleasant and inaccessible ★ Elysian Fields is part of the underworld and is where the good go ★ Athenai are a group of women who followed and worshiped Athena ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (definitely give it a visit if you're in the area!) ★ (Athens is the capital city of Greece) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie @madebysvt

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　★ previous star ★ 

            Right by the foothill of Mount Olympus and just a few hours away from the lively village of Dion, hidden in a little meadow of the evergreen forest, almost a day long walk from Lake Naia, lay the fun house of Dionysus. Men and women, Gods and Goddesses were welcomed here, scrutinizing and judgmental eyes turning into indifferent and lustful ones, whatever your heart desired a possibility to become reality if whispered to the right person or deity. Selfless and desperate men found solace in the caresses of nymphs that ventured down from Mount Olympus to the fun house, desperate to get away from the clutches of merciless deities that took advantage of them at the smallest chance given. Gods and Goddesses who were tired of the mistreatment enabled by their superiors and were in desperate need of a night where they could let go, often stumbled through the threshold of the fun house. Dionysus loved calling it a fun house because that’s what it truly was, a house that offered you whatever you had in mind when you thought of the word fun. It came in the form of alcohol, music, entertainment and dancing, but it also came in the form of wanton moans, desperate touches, and whispered climaxes. Whatever you had in mind, you’d probably find it at the fun house. The wine was unlimited here as long as you left something of yours behind and promised to return for another fun time, making you rather addicted to the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you anticipated your reward. Whether this was in the form of a beautiful nymph or innocent maiden, a hunky man that liked it rough or a young lad whose touch was soft, or perhaps the unlimited alcohol that intoxicated your mind and sometimes killed you before your time…it was all the visitors choice. Dionysus took great pleasure in watching the mere mortals crumble at his feet, and he loved it even more when he managed to break a deity beyond the point of madness.

Everyone here knew who I was. The empty jug lay next to my hand almost mockingly as my eyes bore into the table, head slightly buzzing and ears ringing from the loud music the few drunken musicians attempted to play. The harp had a beautiful sound if in the hands of someone that could yield it, but the one mortal that attempted to play it here made it sound borderline scratchy, fingers caressing the strings rather unprofessionally. Despite how crowded the fun house was, not a soul took it upon themselves to share a table with me, and I understood why. I wasn’t necessarily here for company, especially not that of a man, but it would’ve felt nice to lay my worries upon an ear willing to listen. I knew the sharp daggers secured onto the belt around my waist intimidated men, but I expected women to be more than willing to share stories with me. After all, it wasn’t a secret to anyone that I was part of the Athenai, Athena’s loyal followers, the leader of a cult that brought forth possibilities for women eager to become more than what their society instilled on them.

A rather young girl passed by the table, head hanging low as she clutched the large jug of wine to refill the thirsty men’s glasses, and I watched closely as she walked between the tables, pouring more wine for the one’s asking. She was young, too young for a place like this, but I figured her family was living scarcely and they needed every little penny they could get. Knowing the nature of the men that were so eager to frequent places as such, it came as no surprise when the young girl’s shoulder was clutched by a calloused hand, yanking her back violently. The girl’s eyes widened in panic as she looked up, clutching the jug to her chest as if afraid to spill anything. It was pure instinct by now to draw my weapons at the sight of a female getting harmed, and it came as no surprise when I felt my blood boil underneath my skin. The man that dared touch the little girl was laughing, gripping her chin and trying to force her to sit down at his table filled with six more men, all watching her with a predatory glint in their eyes. Athena has taught me her virtues, has passed her beliefs onto me, raised me as a strong and independent woman, one that would not sit idly by and watch an innocent soul get harassed, especially if so young. The cult of Athenai have sworn celibacy to Athena, and have sworn to protect maidens and women in dire danger until their last breath.

I moved stealthily, barely leaving a breeze in my wake as I stood from the table, eyes burning anyone that dared look my way, right hand gripping the handle of my most loved dagger. Hephaestus was a marvelous craftsman, every piece of armor was designed by Athena and myself, and then later on perfected and strengthened by him. I had great trust in my weapons and my abilities, having led a war by Athena’s side more than once. As I made my way towards the table full of vile men, the little girl’s body had started shaking as she struggled to fill their glasses with wine, the man that was holding her had his hand sliding down her fragile body. I tensed my muscles and willed my mind to remain focused, knowing that if I saw red right now, not even one man would leave this house in one piece. As a quiet and scared whimper left the young girl’s lips, my jaw clenched and I unsheathed my dagger, the other men sitting at the table finally noticing me as I came into their vicinity.

A wide smirk stretched onto my lips as I saw the terror in their eyes, and before they could alert their companion harassing the young girl, my dagger had long come down against the nimble skin of the man, the steel cutting through his flesh and bones, severing the hand he had on the table. The cry that left his mouth was gut-wrenching and it made everyone stop in their tracks, eyes wide as the lively music had cut off at once, the young girl jumping away with watering eyes as the man tried to stand and whirl around. But I just chuckled and grabbed his greasy hair, yanking his head back as I pressed my sharp dagger against his neck, making him suddenly become still. His chest was heaving and he had broken out into a cold sweat, whole body shaking as blood gushed out of his severed limb. I leered, leaning down close to his ear.

“You are in great luck tonight, my friend,” I hissed against his ear, his body reeking of alcohol and grime, “I cannot kill you unless you do something unforgivable, but that doesn’t mean I cannot teach you a lesson, you stupid mortal.”

The man had started sobbing, snot running down his nose and into his mouth as he tried to splutter out apologies, his companions frozen as they didn’t know whether to help him or not. I pressed my dagger just a little more against his skin, making sure to draw blood as the man cried out in agony again, making me grin widely as I released him, but not before banging his head against the table hard enough to knock him out. His companions jumped to their feet and rushed over to the passed-out man as I turned my head to search for the young girl, finding her cowering behind a woman that was silently crying. I wiped down the blood from my dagger onto the white cloth I had hidden in my pocket as I walked towards the two, motioning for the woman to step aside. She did so quickly, revealing the young girl to me. I sighed as I leaned down to be eye level with her, gently wiping her tears off her face.

“Do not cry child, you’re safe now.” I muttered to her gently, unlatching a satchel from my belt, “Take this and head to Athens tomorrow, take your family with you if needed. Pray to Athena tonight and tell her that her most trusted apprentice saved you from a vile man, ask for her blessings and protection.”

“Won’t she want something in return?” The girl’s voice was shaky as she reluctantly accepted the coins, probably the sum more than she’s ever made here at the fun house. I smiled and gave a pat to her head as I stood up straight again.

“You are a smart girl; Athena will like that.” I hummed, fixing her hair behind her head, tilting her chin up to look in her eyes, “If you wish to be strong and able to protect yourself, all you have to offer to Athena is a promise to remain a maiden, child, and she will have you. You’ll thrive under her cult and you’ll have a good life in Athens.”

Gratitude graced the young girl’s face and she bowed her head deeply, bending at her middle to go even lower, making me smile at her display of gratitude, “Thank you, my heavenly protector.”

I chuckled as I gave a last pat to the girl’s head, looking around the still deadly silent fun house. I grinned and took my leave, knowing that the mood would be ruined as I wasn’t welcomed anymore for the night. When I reached the door, I turned around and bowed mockingly before I was out of the crowded and warm house, welcoming the cool breeze of the summer night. As the door closed behind myself, the music picked back up and the chatter and shouts resumed like nothing had happened, and I took a moment to clear my mind. I headed to the corner of the house and leaned against its structure, sighing as I looked up at the stary night, wondering whether I should return to Olympus now, or head back to Athens myself. But something snapped next to me and the unmistakable aura of an Olympian God invaded my sense, forcing my body to remain alert as I gently clutched the handle of my dagger.

“No need for that, dear,” I slightly relaxed at the familiar deep voice, but failed to spot the figure in the pitch-black night, “I am not here to harm you—or any of the women you protect.”

“Then why are you here?” I snapped back, growing a little irritated that the God wasn’t showing himself to me.

“I’m here to collect a very dear soul.” The deep voice answered back, sounding amused at my irritation as the nauseating scent of tobacco filled my nose. Sometimes, I wondered whether Death was timeless, whether he could travel between times unseen and unknown to us. Even as deities, we couldn’t predict the future nor if we truly were everlasting, but there was a glint in Death’s eyes that held secrets nobody but him knew about.

“I didn’t kill the man, you don’t have to snitch on me—” His deep giggle cut me off, and there he was, finally, showing himself to me as he stepped out of the shadows. His body was clad in a midnight black suit, tailored to fit his body perfectly as if it was his second skin. He had cut his hair shorter sometime not long ago, and it stood up in a way that made him look like he didn’t belong amongst us. Hades’ sharp eyes were crinkled as he smiled widely, his front teeth crooked as the cigar hung loosely between his teeth.

“I’m not here for that man,” Hades chuckled as the cigar bobbed with every word he said, “he’s going straight to Tartarus. I’m here for someone else.”

I followed his line of sight as he gazed inside the fun house through the window, eyes settling on an old man who was smiling and chatting by the bar with a beautiful young woman, “He’s lively, but his heart has weakened. I hope he hasn’t forgotten about our little trade back when he was still youthful and handsome.”

“You love making trades.” I sighed under my breath as I watched Hades grin, then take a long drag of his strongly smelling cigar. I never dared ask where he got those from, I never saw anyone else smoking them. It felt like it was somehow beyond me and our times, like it was better if I stayed naïve. Hades was an enigma nobody could fully decipher; it was best if you didn’t ask many questions. He had a way with his words, he could easily trick you into trades and deals that were only beneficial to him. The tale of signing your soul away to him unassumingly was more common than not, and I appreciated my life, cherished it dearly even.

“That I do, indeed.” He hummed, sharp and dark eyes falling on me again. He also loved flirting with people that he wasn’t supposed to flirt with, “Still worshiping the lovely Athena?”

I snorted under my breath, crossing my arms in front of my chest as I leaned against the building again, “It’s what I was created for.”

“Ah, yes,” Hades hummed, taking a long drag of his cigar, smoke wafting up in the air around us, “my bitch of a sister sure loves sending out other people to do the dirty work for her. If only Zeus wasn’t such a man-whore—”

“You speak rather freely, Mingi.” I narrowed my eyes at the God of death, interrupting what was supposed to be his inner monologue.

“Of course, I do.” He chuckled upon hearing his real name leave my lips, throwing the cigar onto the ground as he stepped on it. I’ve seen him do that many times, yet I still haven’t figured out why he did that, “What? What are they going to do to me? Banish me? Chase me away? Kill me? Death is everlasting, my dear, just as birth is. Even when you will stop existing, I’ll be still here. I’m one with Gaea. Unlike many of our kin, I do not need to be worshipped to exist.”

That made me think, made my mind dwell on thoughts that they weren’t supposed to dwell on, “Are you saying we won’t always be here?”

“I’d love to chat more with you, my dear.” Mingi smiled mischievously, his eyes narrowing into playful slits as he stepped closer, caressing my cheek gently. He was perhaps the only man that’s ever touched me—the one I willingly allowed to touch me—his touch lacking the lust no other man could even as much so as hide, “But my old man really needs to go now, and Hera’s called for you.”

“Are you stealing Hermes’ job now?” I chuckled, patting his hand before I removed it, dusting my hands off.

“No,” Mingi chuckled, shaking his head, “I’d rather die then be the messenger of these bored deities that love beefing with each other for no reason.”

“Do you reckon why my mother is asking for me?” I raised an eyebrow as I chuckled at Mingi’s humor.

“No idea, but she looked beyond devious.” He sighed, slowly stalking towards the entrance of the fun house, Dionysus would certainly hate that there would be two deities tormenting his fun house tonight, “Perhaps has something to do with lovely Aphrodite.”

I hummed, nodding my head in goodbye as Mingi disappeared inside, leaving me alone in the darkness of the night. Well, off to Mount Olympus I was.

            And Mingi was right, my mother did summon me due to something concerning Aphrodite. The palace was brightly lit despite it being after midnight by the time I made it home, and my steps were silent against the marble stones despite how lightly I walked. Athena made sure teach me that. As I had knocked on the door of my mother’s bedroom, it opened up instantly and allowed me inside. She sat on her sofa, snacking on some grapes as her two servants fanned her with big leaves, looking stoic and avoiding eye contact at all costs. My mother’s mouth pulled into a wide smile upon seeing me, her eyes a bright color and glimmering under the divine light. I fixed my posture and bowed my head in respect as I walked closer to her, the armor I wore completely the opposite of her satin indigo dress.

“Daughter,” She cooed, her voice warm and loud in the confines of her bedroom, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

That was true, indeed, she only met me when she needed something from me. I wasn’t to any use for her unless she was sending me out to kill the people she didn’t like, or have tried to bewitch her bellowed husband. I have long come to terms with the fact that Athena was more of a motherly figure than my own mother would ever be.

“Indeed, mother, how may I help you this time?” I asked emotionlessly, resting my hand on the handle of my dagger as it brought me comfort.

My mother chuckled as she raised her hand, the servants stopping their actions, “Out.”

They wasted no time in scurrying out, and I watched as they bowed deeply to my mother then to me, and fled the room at last. My mother sat up, pushing her dark brown hair behind her shoulders, her satin dress falling down on one shoulder. She was a Goddess almost as beautiful as Aphrodite, Hera could have anyone she wanted. Many worshipped her and tried to whisk her away from Zeus, but she only had eyes for that tyrant.

“Well, now that it’s just the two of us,” Hera chuckled, her expression twisting into something sly, “I’m sure you’ve heard of Aphrodite’s children, my daughter.”

“I have.” I confirmed as I raised an eyebrow at my mother. I have even met a few, but they weren’t very likeable, much like their mother.

“What about Yeosang?” My mother’s voice dripped with venom, palms curling into fists.

“Mere tales whispered by naiads is all I know of him.” I answered, gulping when my mother raised to her feet, a deity easily taller than most men. She stepped off her pedestal and slowly approached me, hand extending as she cupped my cheek. Unlike Mingi’s tender caress, hers was cold and borderline painful.

“I have a very important mission for you, my daughter.” My mother’s eyes sparkled with a vicious glint, teeth showing as she leered, “Someone had spoken ill of poor Aphrodite and she wants the man dead. But we know she never directly dirties her hands, and instead sends one of her children. Yeosang is her most prized child, my daughter, I need you to go find him, and kill him.”

I withheld the snort that threatened to bubble past my lips, impressed by my mother’s ignorance and the irony of her words. Wasn’t she sending me out to take care of her dirty business? The hatred between the two Goddesses runs deep, the two never settling their differences and finding ways to torment not just each other, but those around themselves as well. I was raised to hate Aphrodite, by my mother at least, because Athena’s teachings taught me different things. I wasn’t supposed to hate no woman, nor Goddess, but my mother couldn’t know that. I was more loyal to Athena than to her anyway.

“Is he going down to the mortals?” I questioned and pulled my head back slowly to get rid of my mother’s uncomfortable caress against my cheek. She hummed, giving me a scrutinizing look as her eyes took me in, a small grin spreading onto her lips.

“You’ve become a fine warrior, my daughter, I knew handing you over to Athena was a smart choice.” My mother sighed happily, eyes hardening at once, “You cannot fail me, my daughter, Aphrodite never lets Yeosang out of her sight, this is your one and only chance to kill him for me, do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” I bowed my head and my mother hummed, turning her back to me as she walked back towards her sofa.

“He’s in Dion, you’ll find him at the brothel in the East side of the village.” She sat back on her sofa, snapping her fingers as the doors opened instantly, the two servants rushing back inside, “And do not worry about recognizing him, you’ll know once you see him. He resembles Aphrodite a lot.”

And perhaps my mother hated that even more than the fact that Aphrodite was more beautiful than her. I didn’t worry about recognizing Yeosang, amongst mortals, an Olympian could be easily picked out in a crowd.

            Life in the village compared to the life of the Olympians was rather lamentable. Few people were well-off to live in spacious mansions that resembled the homes of the Olympians, as most of these mortals lived in humble and small cottages. But no matter how poor or rich, the nightlife in Dion never lacked as inns and brothels were overfilled with rowdy and insatiable people. I had disguised myself as a maiden of the village, a simple white dress that’s seen better days replacing the armor that felt like a second skin and brought me comfort. I felt exposed as my dark hair flowed freely against my shoulders and back, making me more vulnerable as anyone could easily grab onto it. The only time I wore it like this was when I bathed, in a battle you couldn’t allow anything to distract you. The sleeves of my dress were long, covering my arms as my two daggers were strapped tightly against the inner parts of them, I would never willingly bear myself vulnerable around anyone I didn’t trust.

Since I was disguised, nobody could tell that I was Hera’s daughter and Athena’s apprentice, making men boldly approach me and try to flirt their ways into bedding me for the night. I hated every single second of it, narrowly avoiding their touches and turning down their offers in a charming manner, not wanting to anger anyone and draw attention onto myself before I was done with what I was here for. The brothel was overspilling with people at the ungodly hour of the witches, and it turned out to be a hard task to find Aphrodite’s son, Yeosang. I didn’t know who I was looking for, but I would know upon seeing him. After walking around and watching the crowd carefully, I let the people push me towards the bar as I ordered a pint of beer for myself, leaning against the surface as I surveyed the crowd once again. The music was loud and the dancing people grew in number as others disappeared upstairs, occupying the empty rooms for mere seconds of pleasure. I had just taken a sip of the rather bitter beer, when an overwhelming feeling of warmth made me look up alarmed. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to pinpoint the direction it was coming from, my blood boiling underneath my skin as a weird sense of calmness tried to push through my alert disposition. My heart was racing and my ears had started ringing at once, and I knew the few sips of beer weren’t the cause of it. I was in the presence of another divinity. And upon realizing this, through the dancing people emerged an ethereal looking man.

The seemingly white glow that no mortal seemed to notice was almost alarming, coating his skin fair and making it glow as the softest and gentlest smile settled on his blood-red lips upon noticing me. Even from a distance, his eyes were gentle and warm in color, golden swirling around his irises as he graciously walked closer, hands clasped in front of him. Somebody crashed into him, but instead of screaming and pushing them away, he continued smiling as his lips moved slowly, probably reassuring the person that it was no problem. His hair fell around his face in a light brown curtain, framing his forehead and cheekbones as his nose was petite, his jawline sharp. My grip tightened around the pint of beer, suddenly my heart racing in my chest as the warmth I have felt previously only worsened the closer the deity walked. I found myself struggling to intake air, as if the man had his grip around my throat, refusing me the air I desperately needed. His smile only widened as I felt my legs weaken, the man now standing in front of me. His scent was sweet like honey and roses, overpowering the unpleasant odor coming from the humans.

“Another deity,” His voice was deep, unlike his soft features and what you’d expect to hear from him, “it’s rare any comes down to this brothel.”

“You’re here too.” I found my voice, completely surprised by how breathy it sounded. I gulped and took a quick sip of my beer, hoping it would help fix the dryness of my throat. The deity, Yeosang, watched my action closely, chuckling lowly as his lips pursed. The longer I looked at his face, the more I understood why he was Aphrodite’s favourite child. He was beyond perfect and gracious, well-mannered, and soft spoken. Perhaps if Aphrodite didn’t exist, he’d be Aphrodite instead. But nobody, no mortal or deity, could be prettier than the Goddess of beauty herself, and I noticed with mild surprise that Yeosang had a blood-red discoloration around his left temple in the shape of an almost heart.

“Are you here to satiate your vices?” His warm eyes shifted onto the beer again, and I chuckled, looking down at it too. I had to play my part if I wanted to kill him tonight, therefore, I lied.

“Some vices you can never fully satiate.” My expression was serious as my eyes bore into Yeosang’s, “I am tired of the fakeness of the Olympians, I want to feel something real.”

Something alluring flashed inside Yeosang’s eyes as he, too, leaned against the bar, reaching out for my pint of beer, “Mortals are fun little toys—until they start playing Gods and want to replace you.”

“Good thing we are irreplaceable, then.” I grinned as Yeosang chuckled, bringing up the pint to his lips. They parted slowly, his gaze burning into mine, a heated feeling suddenly encompassing my whole being. I have never felt that before, and suddenly I was nervous. Could it be that Yeosang was manipulating me somehow? All deities had powers to a certain extent, but his and mine were limited, we weren’t any major God the mortals ardently worshipped. I tried to reassure myself that it couldn’t have been him as he slowly lowered the pint from his lips, placing it back onto the bar.

“A deity like yourself certainly cannot enjoy that vile thing?!” Yeosang sounded almost appalled as he pressed his bony fingers against his lips, making me chuckle as I pulled the pint back towards myself.

“Someone as sophisticated as yourself would enjoy wine, I suppose.” Yeosang blushed as he hid his mouth with his hand, averting his eyes down to the floor. I smirked, feeling victorious as I raised my hand for the waitress to come over. She was quick on her feet, thankfully, and I swiftly ordered a glass of wine for my prey. My plan was perfectly working out, I didn’t think it’d be so easy to lure him into my trap. Perhaps Aphrodite shouldn’t have kept her precious son so sheltered, he was too naïve for his own good, and it would bring his downfall tonight. As Yeosang shyly looked up, I fixed my expression, trying to look as inoffensive as I could.

“I have always believed there is no point in hiding who we are,” I tensed as Yeosang suddenly leaned forward, invading my personal space as the waitress delivered his glass of wine, “after all, at some point people see through your façade. It usually falls when you think others aren’t watching you, even if it’s the slightest crack, somebody will notice.”

Feeling speechless, I could only watch as Yeosang smiled shyly and took his glass of wine, murmuring a quiet thank you before he took a tentative sip of it. My heart hadn’t stopped hammering against my ribcage ever since he walked over, and I could only pray to Athena that I wouldn’t start sweating now. There was something about Yeosang’s aura that exuded calmness but alure at the same time, and I found it hard to make sense of these new emotions surfacing in my body. Everything tingled and burned, suddenly finding his proximity not close enough, needing him to push me up against a wall and devour me. If Athena were to hear these vile thoughts, she’d be just as disgusted by them as I was. I tried to gulp down the nausea rising up through my stomach, and as I opened my mouth to speak up, a man tumbled into Yeosang. His wine was almost spilled, but he saved it last minute as he helped the man stand up straight.

“Oh,” Yeosang whispered, face lighting up in recognition, “old friend! I thought I have forever lost you to the crowd!”

The man reeked of every odor one could think of, yet Yeosang went and placed his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into his side. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as the mortal hiccupped, eyes half lidded as he struggled to stand up straight. The glass of wine was abandoned as Yeosang’s full attention was on the man, and I took a deep breath as I felt my pulse quicken even more. I took a quick glance around myself to make sure nobody was watching us, and then reached inside my dress, finding the hidden vial between my breasts easily.

“You abandoned me, boy!” The man’s words were slurred as he clumsily exclaimed, and I acted in a swift moment, pouring the poison into Yeosang’s glass unnoticed. My fist curled around the vial until I crushed it into small shards, the pain never reaching my skin as it instantly turned into dust. I watched the poison quickly dissolve in Yeosang’s drink just as the deity chuckled and looked back at me. My eyebrows shot up as I quickly smiled, hoping I didn’t look suspicious.

“This old friend of mine loves dancing,” Yeosang chuckled as he maneuvered the man around so that they stood side by side facing me, “I had to abandon him for a while.”

“Yes, you did.” The man’s head fell a little forward before Yeosang steadied him, making me wonder just how strong the deity was. His muscles were lean and not bulging as most Gods liked to look like, yet it was unquestionable that he was rather strong as he held up the man twice his size.

“Old friend, tell me something.”

The old man perked up as he tried to open his eyes more, “What, boy?”

“The young lady you introduced to me earlier,” Yeosang’s smooth voice turned slightly darker, subtly sneering. My eyebrows furrowed as the soft expression swiftly slipped off his face, “what have you said to her?”

“Oh!” The drunk man exclaimed, lips pulling into a drunken smirk as he looked at me, eyes raking over my body. I wished to wipe out my daggers and gauge his eyes out, but tonight I had to behave, “That lady cannot be compared in beauty to anyone else, she’s more beautiful than Aphrodite herself.”

The air seemed to freeze around us as my breath halted. Yeosang’s smile turned cold, eyes narrowing as he hummed, his grip on the man’s shoulder visibly tightening, “Hmm, I see.”

I didn’t know what to do as Yeosang turned his head, one eyebrow raised as if in question. I cleared my throat and averted my eyes as I instead grabbed my pint and threw back the remained of my beer. Yeosang’s eyes slowly shifted onto his glass of wine and he paused, then reached out and took the glass. I watched with a hammering heart as he raised it up to his lips, then slowly tilted the glass, the wine almost touching his blood-red lips.

“Drinking in front of your elderly without offering it to them first?!” The old man coughed a little, giving Yeosang a glare as if his respect had been broken. Yeosang froze, then I watched in mild alarm as he lowered his glass, shooting the man an apologetic smile.

“Where have my manners gone?” He shook his head at himself and the man hummed. I opened my mouth to interject into their exchange, but instead felt my jaw fall open in shock as Yeosang forcefully grabbed the man’s chin and yanked it open, pushing his head back by it, pouring the wine down his throat aggressively. I gasped as I watched the man gargle and try not to choke on the poisoned wine, my palms turning into fists as my muscles tensed.

“There, you can have all the wine.” Yeosang snickered, throwing the empty glass onto the floor, it shattering loudly as he slowly turned his head, tilting it to the side. My eyes hardened in an instant as I noticed the change in his demeanor, the serene and innocent look gone from Yeosang’s face as he smirked, leaning towards me, “Those who speak my mother’s name in vain shall be punished, right, Y/N?”

There hasn’t been a time before where a man won over me. I was trained for war, I have fought battles that took the lives of hundreds of men, I have slain men who have mistreated women and yet…a pathetic son of a Goddess had me fumbling in panic as he released the old man who had started heaving for air, clutching his throat. Yeosang stepped back and watched as I caught the old man, eyes wide as the poison rather quickly brought him to his demise. I didn’t know what to do as his body started growing heavier, and when I made eye contact with Yeosang, he was already backing into the crowd with a poisonous glint in his eyes and a vicious smirk on his lips.

He had won this game.

I felt anger surge through my body, but I couldn’t act on my desires to chase after the deity and have his head. And so, I played the part of my disguise as I released the man. Then, I opened my mouth and shrieked.

            The slap stung no more than a battle scar yet had to, and still, my ego was bruised beyond my body has ever been. I gritted my teeth as I refused to cower under my mother’s seething eyes. Something broke next to us and I jumped, not used to my mother’s hysterical displays. Now I understood why Zeus never tried to anger her, and yet still failed miserably each time.

“You wench,” Hera hissed, grabbing my chin and yanking my head forward, “You’re good for nothing.”

I tried not to snort as I looked down, avoiding eye contact. I have never failed before. I was more than good, but she was too blinded by her childish hatred for Aphrodite to actually notice that.

“You are a disgrace and an abomination!” My mother continued to hiss, her grip turning painful on my chin, “Look me in the eyes, you stupid wench!”

Fury licked under my skin, igniting my veins and making me tense my muscles and calm my mind as I yearned to reach for my dagger and push it through her nonexistent heart. I gulped and looked up into her eyes, remaining emotionless like Athena had trained me.

“You are not my daughter.” Hera hissed, leaning in my face, “I banish you from my home, you are never to step foot inside my temple and sanctuary. Perish from in front of my eyes before I turn you into nothing.”

She pushed me away like I have burned her, and I gulped, biting down on my tongue to keep myself calm and level-headed. I didn’t want to turn into nothing, that I knew. So, instead, I bowed my head and took off towards the door, grabbing the handle of my dagger for comfort, “And to think I nourished you and cherished you for nothing.”

My grip faltered around the handle of the door and something coiled in my chest as I took a deep breath, trying to talk myself down from what was about to come out of my mouth. I ripped the door open and chuckled, turning my head to look smugly at Hera, “Thank fuck I won’t have to see your stupid face ever again, you hysterical bitch.”

The scream Hera let out only made me laugh as I slammed the door shut behind me, fury making my body feel like it was on fire. That feeling was only ever present when I was in battle, and protecting women. I felt my whole being vibrate as I left the stupid home of Hera, steps hurried as I knew who to seek out for guidance. I will find Yeosang and I will kill him, Athena may you be my guide and protect me in my quest.

            Hunting came as second nature; I could do it even with my eyes closed. The ground of the forest was solid underneath my feet and the trees tall and offering shade from the blazing sun as I swiftly advanced towards the meadow. There was nothing in this world I couldn’t track and hunt down. Man, woman, animal, deity. Athena had let me know in a whisper where Aphrodite’s pond resided, a place that only her, her nymphs, and Yeosang knew about. The deity often came here to spend the hot days of summer cooling off in the ever-clear Pond of Beauty. Aphrodite had created it herself for her offspring and those that she considered worthy of her treasure. The pond resided close by the foothill of Mount Olympus, on the territory of the Gods and Goddesses. No human could come here, unless they wished for a painful death.

My bow and arrow lay snuggly in my hands as I held onto them tightly, eyes narrowed as I listened closely to the sounds of the forest. The meadow was just one step ahead, I was hiding behind the bushes and the tall trees, eyes surveying the area before I looked out onto the meadow, the pond vast and its water glimmering under the sunlight that fell directly on it. Sweat had gathered on my brows as I took deep breaths, remaining calm as I noticed ripples on the surface of the pond, a head covered in light brown hair slowly surfacing. My heart started hammering against my ribcage as I watched the deity swim around in the pond, a serene look on his face as he seemed to be glowing in the sunlight, his light brown hair turning almost as golden as the swirls in his warm brown eyes. He floated around graciously, his milky skin translucent as it made contact with the water and the sunlight.

I tensed my muscles and drew my right arm back, aiming my arrow towards Aphrodite’s beautiful creation. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, tuning in to the sounds of nature as I relaxed my body, preparing to release the arrow the second my eyes opened. I felt my body move slightly, align in the direction Yeosang was, and I sighed quietly, feeling the warm breeze caress my skin tenderly all of a sudden. The birds seemed to sing louder here, the grass seemed to brush up against my ankles gently, and the breeze carried a soft smell of pomegranates, honey, and roses. I gulped, feeling my lips part in another quiet sigh as suddenly my ears started buzzing, my skin jittery out of nowhere. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, feeling a little unnerved as my body grew warmer and warmer, flesh burning underneath the heavy silver armor. I gulped and willed my mind to focus, to let go of everything that served as a distraction, and opened my eyes as my fingers holding the string had started slipping, about to release the arrow aimed towards the mesmerizing deity.

But when my eyes opened, my body froze as if someone else was controlling it. Yeosang’s brown eyes shone golden as they bore into mine even at the great distance, and I felt my fingers tremble as I reluctantly lowered my weapon. I struggled to breathe as I felt my legs moved forward, guiding me towards the pond, away from the safety of the trees and the high grass. There was something very wrong as my skin burned and my heart raced, and I couldn’t stop myself from approaching Yeosang. His blood-red lips pulled into a faint smile as my hand raised to undo my bun, my dark hair falling down and fawning my back as I sighed in content. Another step towards him had me unclasping the silver armor from around my torso, my hands trembling as I couldn’t look away from Yeosang. I felt drawn in, mesmerized, and charmed. A madman would say it was witchcraft, but I couldn’t tell what was happening to me.

Yeosang’s lips parted as he whispered something I couldn’t hear just yet, and I felt my hands undo the bindings of my corset as it soon fell from around my body, leaving it bare for Yeosang’s eyes to drink in my exposed skin. I shivered and my arms got covered in goosebumps as Yeosang’s grin turned wider, beckoning me into the pond as he extended one hand. My mind was screaming at me to stop, to unsheathe my dagger from my belt and throw it at Yeosang, but instead, my body moved on its own as I undid my belt and then the bindings of my pants, stopping for a second to push down the garment after I stepped out of my boots.

Yeosang’s tongue darted out to lick at his blood-red lips, and I gasped as my feet came in contact with the cold water of the pond. I was bare in front of a man, walking towards him, offering myself up to him. What I was doing was forbidden, I would be banished and probably killed, but I couldn’t stop. No matter how much I wanted to, my body didn’t stop moving towards Yeosang. The cold water clung to my overheated skin and my heart pounded in my chest as I couldn’t feel the soil underneath my feet anymore. I was forced to swim further inside the pond. I wanted to stop, but my body wouldn’t until it reached Yeosang. My lips trembled from both fright and the cold, and the closer I got to Yeosang, the wider his grin got. He was preening at me, eyes flashing golden like his hair in the sunlight, and suddenly, I was face to face with him. I shuddered out a breath, chest contracting as I tried to yank myself far away from him, but suddenly the water felt like it had hands and had immobilized me to my spot.

“Y/N,” Yeosang’s voice carried amusement, eyes twinkling in the same manner, “it’s rude to impose on someone that’s bathing.”

I couldn’t find my voice, my throat had gone dry, my whole body was trembling. I couldn’t be seen bare by any man or deity, I had to kill Yeosang. I would be never forgiven if I didn’t, if he touched me…I would be punished for an eternity.

“Why are you here?” He raised an eyebrow, lowering himself under the water until his eyes and hair were visible only. I tried to calm my frantic heartbeat, to regulate my breathing once again.

“I’m here to kill you.” I hissed out, eyes hardening as Yeosang pushed his head above water, giggling.

“Without your armor, you’re nothing but a woman, Y/N.” My blood boiled under my skin, and I wasn’t trembling from the cold anymore, it was from anger. My jaw clenched as I glared at Yeosang, still trying to break free of this invisible spell he’s put on me.

“Is this where your mask slips and you show just how rotten you are at your core?” Yeosang’s head lulled back as he laughed, water dripping from his hair once he faced me again.

“You think I’m doing something to you,” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as his eyes darkened, just like at the brothel. He didn’t look innocent anymore, he looked menacing and dangerous, “but I am not. The pond brings out your deepest, darkest desires.”

Something coiled in my chest and I felt my cheeks heat up, mortified at what Yeosang was implying, “How dare you?! I am an Athenai, I have sworn to serve Athena. I have no such desires like the one you’re implying I have—”

I stiffened as Yeosang reached out, his warm fingertips softly touching my skin, “Then why is your skin ablaze? Why does your flesh sing to me to come closer? To feel you? To touch you? To devour you?”

I gasped as Yeosang swum uncomfortably close, palm caressing my cheek bigger than it, eyes boring into mine as I felt unraveled by the simplest touch, “Why do you want me to fill you up here until you’re a begging mess, until you have forgotten who you are?”

It felt like the sunlight was cut off and my neck was snapped into half, when, underwater, I felt nimble fingers trace the outline of lips untouched before, slipping between them and drawing out a sound that’s never left my mouth before, “Why does it throb for me?”

Yeosang’s lips brushed against my ear as I moaned loudly, head falling back when his fingers touched a spot that had the name of Gaea on my lips, praying to be forgiven for the sins I was committing, “Kill me with your bare hands, Y/N, and I shall grant you one wish.”

I whimpered as I finally felt released by the clutches of the water, hands flying out as I clung onto Yeosang’s shoulders, eyes screwing shut when the heel of his palm pressed harder against my core, massaging it in a circular motion, toes curling at the blinding feeling that had my whole body on fire like no battle could ignite it. Yeosang’s blood-red lips pressed against the vein pulsating in my neck, and I bit my bottom lip, trying to muffle the sounds I was making as he dipped his fingers lower, prodding at a hole I didn’t know existed before, “Yeosang.”

“Say my name, my goddess.” Yeosang growled against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as I felt him grip onto my hip with his free hand, “Tell me how badly you want me dead.”

I moaned as one finger slowly slipped inside that hole, my mouth falling open in a loud gasp as I felt my muscles contracting, clenching down on his digit, “I shall skin you alive and deliver you to your mother myself.”

Yeosang moaned as his lips left my neck, eyes boring into mine as he faced me again. His hand from my hip slowly slipped down onto my thigh and he guided it around his own hip, flushing our bodies together as he moved his finger in and out, making my eyebrows furrow at the unusual pleasure that erupted in my whole body.

“If you do,” Yeosang whispered against my lips, gently biting my bottom lip, “I shall persuade Athena to forgive you for your sins.”

I gasped as the pace of his finger quickened, his thumb pressing on the bundle of nerves again, and his name echoed in the meadow as I cried it out loudly, body shaking from the overwhelming new feelings I haven’t felt before, “Oh, Yeosang.”

“I know,” He whispered, suddenly his finger gone from my throbbing core, and I whined as my eyes flew open, searching his face for an explanation. His golden eyes had glazed over and were a dark brown, his skin and hair not that bright anymore as clouds shielded the sun for us, almost as if they were shielding us from the eyes of the Gods and Goddesses themselves, “it’s overwhelming for the first time, but you’re doing so well for me, my goddess.”

He guided my other leg too around his hip, and I anchored myself against his lean body as I crossed my ankles behind his bottom. I could feel something hard and heavy press against my thigh and Yeosang smirked, pushing the hair out of my face as his lips pressed against mine featherlike, experimentally. My heart was beating fast, skin on fire as I felt the hard member line up at the entrance Yeosang’s finger had been inside previously, and I gulped, feeling fear for the first time in my life. No man, no battle, no war was scarier than the sin I was about to commit. But I wanted it. I knew now, I’ve always wanted it, I’ve just been repressing it desperately in honour of my oath.

“Yeosang, my god, take me.” It was a bare plea against his lips, and then they were devouring mine, coaxing them open as his tongue slid against mine at the same time as my hole was stretched open as the hard and heavy member seemed to split me apart at once, drawing out whimpers of pain as Yeosang’s lips tried to muffle them. I felt full, yet it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough as his hands gripped my hips bruisingly, guiding me up and down on his member as Yeosang whimpered, tongue tangled with mine as the painful sting in my core resided, but wasn’t as bad as it had been a second ago.

“Promise yourself to me and you shall live.” Yeosang’s low voice demanded as he mercilessly slammed my hips down, turning my mind into a jumbled mess as I was impaled again and again, wondering if the slice of my dagger would ever come close to this feeling.

“I am protector of maidens and women,” I groaned as a hand groped at my exposed chest, fiddling with the nipple, my nails digging into Yeosang’s back until they drew blood, “I will never promise myself to a man.”

“Then savor this feeling,” Yeosang hissed, and a yelp mixed with a loud moan left my throat as the next thrust was sharp, hitting a spot that had my hips moving more desperately on its own, trying to set a faster rhythm than the one Yeosang tried to set, “because Athena is on her way here, and when you leave this pond, you’ll be dead.”

My fingers slipped into his hair and I yanked on the wet strands, moaning as the new pace kept hitting that spot again and again, my mind wishing for nothing but to bring pain to Yeosang, “And you’ll be dying with me, my god.”

Yeosang moaned as I slammed my lips against his, painful and bruising as our teeth clanked together, noses pressing harshly against each other as I found it harder and harder to make sense of my thoughts as I had started succumbing to the pleasure completely.

Whether the promise of giving myself to Yeosang slipped past my lips or not, the clouds were witness to it, and Athena’s arrow would be the judge of it when Judgment Hour comes. Perhaps Hades would be sweet enough to let me reside in the Elysian Fields in the afterlife, “Does it feel real now?”

❱❱ Next star

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[ghxstlly]

Do you have a general summary of the vampire AU? Like their dynamics and everything? I feel like I don’t know much about that one compared to the other two

Thank you for your patience!

I hope you can accept my apologies, I've been highly slow with sharing stuff about my vampire AU 😭 But here's some now!

Lord Nikolaevich III — Stolen from his home as a young man and sired by the fearsome, cruel vampire lord Byron Nikolaevich, Friedrich was little more than a lowly thrall for a long time. Weak, timid, he was forced to carry out menial tasks for his vampire lord master and was content to stay on the down-low. However, when a crusade led by the Church of Targoviste stormed Lord Byron's castle, intent to kill him, the vampire lord, determined to preserve the Nikolaevich bloodline, passed all his titles and power to Friedrich... who just so happened to be in the room. When Byron was slain, the castle was destroyed, leaving Friedrich and a handful of thralls loyal to the Nikolaevich bloodline as the only survivors of the attack.

Rising then as the new Lord Nikolaevich, Friedrich had little idea what to do. He wasn't cut out for the cruelty and mercilessness needed for being a vampire lord at all, and opted to hole up in a different castle nearby the small village of Tusavichy, where he tries to pretend he doesn't exist.

Juliane Lecarde — Juliane is a young woman who lives in Tusavichy, a friendly face in a cold mountain village. Though by day she is a simple peasant, a husbandless one at that, by night she is a secret witch, spending her time reading and learning the art of medicine. Though not particularly superstitious or religious, she does harbor a healthy fear of vampires, and finds herself frustrated and mistrustful of the efficacy of Tusavichy's defense against night dwelling creatures.

Sir Idris Trantoul — Idris, the Knight Commander of Tusavichy, is a fiery spirit who harbors a deep-seated hatred for evil. Having been selected as his predecessor’s squire after his fighting spirit was noticed, he rose through the ranks as his victories in battle grew in numbers. Unfortunately, however, he finds himself needing to prove his worth to the people of Tusavichy as a shield against the darkness, for an attack by a werewolf one night left him severely defeated and humiliated. Thus, he has vowed to stop at nothing to kill the elusive Lord Nikolaevich, the one called The Ghost of Tusavichy— the vampire that no one has ever seen— to prove himself a worthy protector and Knight Commander.

Adella Viscardi — Adella is a sireless thrall— a weak vampire with no master. Having witnessed her own brother, Friedrich, be stolen from her family when she was younger, she could not understand why he never came back for her. And when she was stolen away and turned into a vampire herself, she heard that he had become a powerful lord and felt betrayed and hurt, slowly growing a resentment for him which culminated in a plan to usurp his powers and titles.

Elie Lavaude — A mysterious, suspiciously powerful vampire, Elie was discovered by Adella during her efforts to find a way to destroy her brother. Though she was highly intimidated and afraid at first, to her surprise, Elie was willing to hear her out and was rather easily convinced to join her cause. Apparently seeing it as a mutually beneficial arrangement, Elie's intentions are unclear, though she did seem particularly swayed by Adella's promise that she'd never have to hunt for her own food again if they succeed.

[perpetuallyobsessed0613]

Fontaine Characters Headcanons/Theories

Some of this info is known cause the siblings info got released but still:

Focalors

Hedonist

Really only in it for entertainment (she’s just….kinda a loser 💀💀💀😭😭😭)

Hot-headed, a little childish, gives Neuvillette a hard time (yeeeah)

Would give up her Gnosis in a heartbeat if it was needed to place a bet

But would fight tooth and nail to get it back if she lost the bet

Hydro Archon (confirmed)

Hydro (confirmed, duh) /Sword (confirmed based on her Statue of the Seven)

Arlecchino

Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers

The Knave

Used to be an actress

Method actress, used methods so outlandish she was kicked from theater

From Fontaine originally (HAH I WAS RIGHT)

Used to be an orphan

Runs an orphanage called House of the Hearth, uses it to recruit Fatui agents (!!!!!)

Those aren't gloves on her hands, she bears a curse or she's been turned into a non human entity

Pyro vision/Sword (leaks confirm she’s a Polearm!)

Cryo Delusion

Neuvillette

Stone cold serious type (he’s literally the sweetest I love him????)

Huge proponent of justice (yup!)

Chief Justice of Fontaine

Puts up with Focalors’s attitude (Pretty much 😭)

Loyal to Archon (or is he)

Descended from mermaids (YALL YALL APPARENTLY HE'S THE HYDRO DRAGON SOVEREIGN???????!!!! WTF OMG)

Waiting for Wriothesley to slip up so he can put him in the slammer once and for all (political rival mayhaps idk)

His name deconstructed means "new city": mayhaps he's awaiting a moment to dethrone the archon and reconstruct Fontaine?

Hydro/Sword (apparently he's a Catalyst user,,,,missed the opportunity to give him a fencing sword as a weapon but whatever ig)

Clordine

Assistant to Neuvillette

Bodyguard (yeeeah)

Prosecutor of Fontiane

Detail oriented, nothing gets past her

Vicious and Merciless (literally kinda the opposite but kinda not)

Eventually goes up against Arlecchino

Navia is her arch nemesis, seems as though Goldilocks is the only one having fun with their game of cat & mouse (the way I was off)

Electro (confirmed) /new weapon: Gun (Sword!)

Lyney

Super protective of Lynette (rightfully so holy shit) 

Loves the chase

Cunning (eeeeh)

Very street smart (I mean kinda yeah)

You can’t tell whether he’s putting up a front, actually enjoys his web of lies, or a little bit of both

This man's gonna get used while thinking he's using the person that's using him at some point (oh Arlecchino I swear to god you better not)

Pyro (confirmed)/Bow (confirmed)

Lynette

Something has happened to her in the past (…..well that was dark)

She’s not temperamental at all (yup)

She doesn’t smile too easily (mhm)

Strongest bond with Lyney (they twins lesgo)

Perceptive and agile (very!)

Lynette escapes her brother’s net of safety to save the traveler at some point (not so likely)

Anemo (confirmed) /Sword (confirmed)

Freminet

Youngest sibling (yup)

introverted/enjoys personal space and quiet (lmfao I knew it)

Love for the water

Renowned Diver of the Court of Fontaine (confirmed)

Silent protector of both his older siblings (idrk)

Highkey that smartest book-wise out of the siblings (again idk)

Cryo (confirmed) /Claymore (confirmed)

Sigewinne

Healer

Alchemist

Provides treatment for Wriothesley’s visual impairment

If not treatment, then she prefers sweet tasting drinks and Wriothesley prefers bitter but she still tries to get him on her new concoctions

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Wriothesley

Hydro/Catalyst

Wriothesley

May or may not be somewhat visually impaired

If so, not particularly compliant with treatment

If not treatment, then he prefers bitter tasting drinks and sometimes humors Sigewinne by trying her new concoctions, mostly just pretends he’s converted to sweet and then goes for coffee or tea anyways

Likes to tease Sigewinne

Sibling dynamic/found family w/ Sigewinne

Investigator for Fontaine justice system (woeful news, he's a police officer. like not even a detective dude?)

Seems pretty chilled out, strategic, could be leading the organized crime w/Navia in secret

if he is secretly running robinhood-esque crimes with navia, then...Neuvillette sniffs something suspicious but never has the evidence to back it oop

Pyro/Claymore (He’s a Cryo Catalyst but his fists go boom boom like Heizou)

Navia

Gives off Focalors vibes (was very wrong)

Playful (yeah I mean yeah)

Career Thief OR

Notorious organized criminal in Fontaine (literally what was I on)

Robin Hood of the sewers (I mean I was kinda sorta a tiny bit right)

Crafty, craftsman (ummm I guess her mind is?)

Super sweet, wonderful character (loved her so yes)

Loves messing with Clordine by making her think she's got her but escaping right in the nick of time (….needless to say I was way off)

Geo (confirmed)/Catalyst (claymore actually)

[aliciavance4228]

Finally Made a List With Modern Interpretations of the Greek Gods Which I Personally Dislike

Zeus is an incompetent asshole uncapable of rulling who took Hades' rightful position as the King of the Gods by cheating during the Division of the Cosmos;

Poseidon is just a cool funny chill uncle who likes swimming and probably smokes weed;

Hades is an emo feminist woobie who only wants to love his pastel goth wife and his beloved dog Spot;

Hera is only a victim of Zeus and every bad thing that she does is 100% because of him;

The polar opposite where Hera is a complete monster and a psychotic bitch who only cares about cursing and killing the women her poor innocent husband has slept with and his bastards;

Demeter is a Helicopter Parent/Overbearing Mother who still used to treat her daughter like a child before Hades kidnapped her and is completely horrible for standing against their pure and innocent love.

Hestia is a hypocrite lesbian (you know what I'm talking about);

Hestia who?

Athena is a shy, socially awkard nerd;

Athena is a feminist who only wanted to protect Medusa and hates love (and men);

Athena is a pick-me girl who never helped nor supported any woman during her entire eternity;

Hephaestus is an Incel who deserved to be cheated on;

Ares is the protector of women who is unfairly hated by the other gods, never raped nor abused any woman during his entire life and wants to overthrow his father for being a patriarchal figure;

Aphrodite is a brainless slut who only cares about herself, and the only way to redempt herself is being together with Hephaestus again;

Apollo is a piece of shit who thinks that he's better than anyone else and ruined Patrochilles FOREVAAAH!!!

Apollo is a bicon and femboy who never raped, murdered or cursed anyone.

Artemis is a lesbian misandrisst feminist icon;

Hermes is just the comic relief;

Dionysus is a dirty drunk old man;

Dionysus is an LGBTQ+ feminist icon ready to kill the bigots; (Yeah right, the LGBTQ+ Community of Ancient Greece...)

Persephone is an innocent flower girl who still looks and acts like a child and had no idea what sex is until she had her sexual awakening in the Underworld;

Persephone is a bad bitch, she's more dreadful and merciless than Hades, hates flowers or being a goddess of nature and 100% wanted to be kidnapped/willingly went with Hades;

Feel free to add anything else.

[skyward-floored]

Volga gets some spotlight for a change (hdw au)

Comes after Volga confronting Cia (and Link on Skyloft, but it’s slightly less necessary to understand this)

...

Volga seeks out and fights the strongest. That is his objective.

He goes where the sorceress tells him, leads monsters into battles as she deems fit. He sees others only as adversaries, evaluating them solely on the threat they pose, the strength they wield.

Nothing else matters.

Only his orders, and strength.

The Hylian army is at their gates, working steadily through the valley, and despite the sorceress increasing Volga’s power, they’re still advancing, calling upon the Great Fairy to aid them. Volga himself is forced to retreat back to Cia’s side, and he stands silently beside her, waiting for her orders.

She’s watching the battle with a look in her eye that grows steadily more enraged, her knuckles whitening on her staff. It isn’t long before she orders him back out, commanding him to find the princess and crush her.

Volga nods, preparing to obey, when the sorceress stops him, a manic look in her eyes.

“This time you will destroy them,” she snarls, and thrusts her hand against his chest.

Power rushes through him, greater than what he had received before, and Volga roars as it fills his veins, turning into a dragon and leaping into the air.

This time he will be the strongest.

Volga glides across the valley, making a beeline towards the army’s leader, the princess’s sword flashing across the battlefield. He lands with a roar, and she quickly turns her attention to him, eyes widening as she leaps out of the way of his first attack.

Volga is merciless, using his weapons of both spear and claws, shooting fire and dive bombing with his dragon form. The princess is annoyingly stubborn though, avoiding nearly all of his attacks, parrying blows and dodging flames.

Some distant part of Volga is impressed.

He snarls as she avoids yet another thrust of his spear, and the princess looks at him, something odd flashing in her gaze.

“Volga! Come to your senses!” she suddenly shouts, parrying an attack. “I know you to fight with honor! What glory is there to be found in using dark magic to win all of your battles?”

“Don’t mock me!” Volga snarls, slamming a clawed hand towards her. How dare she?

“Open your eyes!” Zelda shouts as she dodges, still not giving up. “I believed you to be a proud dragon warrior, not a mercenary for darkness!“

Their weapons clash, and Zelda looks up at Volga without fear, her blue eyes bright.

“Think of your family, Volga. Look past the darkness clouding your vision.”

Volga falters just a hair, a snarl dying in his throat. There is certainly no darkness clouding him, merely the extra power the sorceress provided, but Zelda’s words of family carry a spark of something different. Something... important?

Volga shakes his head, frowning.

...What had she said again?

The spark fades, and Volga roars, hitting her backwards with a clawed hand. The princess is thrown to the ground with a cry, but before Volga can press his attack, there’s a flash of blue and green, and the Hero stands in his way, sword raised.

He has a stricken expression on his face, but Volga barely registers it, roaring again as he goes to face the both of them. The princess regains her footing as the hero slams his shield up to block Volga’s spear, and the three of them resume the fight.

Other monsters join the attack, and the hero’s attention is drawn to keeping them away from his princess, mostly leaving her and Volga to fight alone. Volga draws constantly on the sorceress’s power, and it’s soon obvious the princess begins to flag against his brutal attacks.

She fights on though, tenacious as ever. Soon enough Volga finds their weapons locked again, her eyes fixed on his face.

“Knight Volga, I thought you a protector, a dragon of honor,” she says, voice breathless but earnest. Blood drips across her eye but she doesn’t loosen her grip to wipe it away. “This isn’t who you are, drawing on dark power, fighting in wars for a cause you don’t believe in!”

That persistent spark of something comes back in Volga’s mind, flickering in his thoughts, buzzing in his memory. It makes him falter, just a little.

“Please,” Zelda repeats, still straining against his spear. “For Link’s sake.”

The name rings familiar, and Volga stumbles as a face flickers in his mind, blue eyes shining through the murk. Looking at him in trepidation as information spills from hylian lips, scales glittering in places they have no right to be.

What is this memory?

He can’t recall the events that led to it, or what came after, or even where he was when it occurred. In fact... all he can really recall is the sharp urge to fight the strongest, destroy the enemy, do as the sorceress commands.

Who is the boy with scales on his arms, and hair nearly the same color as his own?

“Volga,” the princess speaks again, less strained now, and Volga belatedly realizes he’s stopped fighting. “Fight past this darkness. I know you are more than what Cia is letting you be.”

Cia.

The name is like a clap of thunder in his head, and suddenly the darkness he’d denied was choking him is all too evident, coursing through him alongside his fire, constricting his thoughts and twisting his actions. Its influence is overwhelming, and Volga clutches a hand over his chest, thoughts whirling as memories rush back.

Cia invading his home and forcing him under her service, ignoring his wishes to be left alone. Using her magic to make him fight, starting a war over lust for his son, putting him on the opposite side of his own kin.

Purposely obscuring the fact that he had a son.

Volga snarls, anger rising as flames drip from his lips. Cia used dark power, foisted upon him without his say, using him as nothing but another pawn in her game and his son—

“No... no!” Volga shouts, gripping at his head with both hands. “I won’t be ruled by darkness!”

He won’t remain Cia’s puppet for another second.

Volga lashes out at the darkness coating him, tearing at Cia’s influence in his chest. He can feel her power fight back the moment he pushes against it, darkness reaching up to claw at his mind, but Volga tears back with claws of his own, refusing to succumb to it again.

He pushes back with his own power, not that of the sorceress, fire clashing with darkness.

A roar builds in his throat as he gains a solid foothold, and he pushes it out, Cia’s dark power leaving him all in a rush.

And he is free.

Weakness follows the loss of power, but even as Volga drops to a knee, he feels more clearheaded, more alive, then he has in weeks.

And it’s overwhelmingly refreshing.

Volga curls his fingers into the dirt as he regains his bearings, clutching his spear as he raises himself up off the ground again. The princess stands a few feet away, watching him with a hopeful look on her face, and Volga huffs, looking away.

...right into the eyes of the hero.

His son.

Volga stares, the boy staring back with an uncertain look on his face. The hero’s gaze is interrupted by a monster slashing at him, and Volga shakes himself, then looks around the battlefield, taking in what he’s missed.

His gaze falls on the princess again, and something burns in his chest, a need to finish what he started. Volga raises his spear in challenge, pointing it at her and the hero.

“This time I will duel you properly. I will win this fight under my own power,” he declares.

He has other business, important business even (Cia will pay, he swears it), but his pride insists he finishes this fight. He wants to show the two of them how he really fights, no dark powers, no false strength.

To finish the fight he began in an honorable manner.

The princess hesitates at his request, exchanging a loaded look with her hero. But he nods, and she nods as well, pointing her sword back.

And they start the fight anew, dragon, princess, and hero.

The fight is invigorating, to say the least. Volga’s very scales seem to buzz with excitement as he battles the two, the old fire coming back to his blood. They’re an incredible team, truly powerful, and fighting them helps immensely with continuing to wake him up, forcing any remnant of Cia’s power from his bones.

They weave in and out in tandem, one of them striking, and then darting out as the other attacks. Despite the remaining weakness from the loss of darkness, Volga matches them blow for blow, his blood singing as he duels the two.

He hasn’t had a fight this challenging in years, and it reminds him of older days, of other duels.

A smile on a tanned face, ruby-red eyes, hair the color of new-fallen snow...

Volga promptly pushes that image aside. He needs to focus on the here and now, and his strength is fading, the hero and princess still pressing their attack.

As much as he hates to admit it, Cia’s actions have left him low on strength, and as enjoyable as this fight is... he’s fading. Rather fast.

And suddenly, he finds himself on his knees, a sword pointing at his neck.

Volga looks at Zelda, then over at his son, both of them breathing hard. An odd feeling of pride runs through him as he looks at the boy, and he almost smiles. Only one other person has ever been able to truly best him in battle, and it’s clear both of them learned from her.

Impa taught them well.

...It was no wonder Cia wanted one dead and the other her captive.

Anger courses through him at the reminder of the sorceress’s treachery, but his energy is spent. Too spent for him to reasonably mount a successful attack on her.

His vengeance will have to wait.

The princess opens her mouth to speak, but Volga beats her to it, closing his eyes as blood runs from a cut over one of them. “I accept my defeat with honor. I lose, but I do so without regrets.”

He exhaled and looks up at the two of them, and his son meets his eyes again, blood and dirt smeared on his face.

Volga gives him a singular nod, then despite his weariness, turns into his dragon form and takes off into the skies. He needs to rest, and recover from his wounds before figuring out what to do next.

And... process the ramifications of having a son.

Impa...

Link and Zelda watch him go in silence, Volga’s wings bright as a comet as he glides away. They’re both breathing heavily from the battle, small injuries bleeding, burns stinging. Zelda is smiling though, and there’s a hesitant sort of hope in Link’s eyes as they watch the dragon grow smaller in the distance.

Zelda squeezes Link’s shoulder as Volga finally disappears from their sight, but they don’t have time to dwell on what just occurred.

Cia still needs to be taken care of. But then...

Link supposes they’ll figure it out.

[zapreportsblog]

Yandere Jane and Alec Volturi and older sister.

❝family ties❞

✭ pairing : yandere jane volturi x unnamed reader x yandere alec volturi

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : jane and alec are possessive over their only remaining family member but it’s becoming too much and she wants to leave, unfortunately they won’t let that happen.

✭ twilight masterlist 2

Within the ancient and mysterious halls of the Volturi castle, the air was heavy with a sense of foreboding. In the heart of the coven's ruling family, there existed a sinister trio of siblings - Jane, Alec, and their older sister, whose name was seldom whispered in the castle's shadowed corridors.

Jane and Alec, the infamous twins with their eerie abilities, were known throughout the vampire world for their cruelty and devotion to Aro's cause. Their yandere tendencies had turned them into merciless enforcers, but their obsession with their older sister was an open secret among the Volturi.

Their older sister, whose name had long been erased from official records, was a shadowy figure within the coven. She had once been a fierce protector of her younger siblings, but something had gone horribly wrong. She had become their obsession, the object of their darkest desires.

Jane's obsession with her older sister was rooted in a twisted need for approval and attention. She would go to great lengths to please her, often using her painful gift to torment those who dared to oppose their family. The thought of anyone coming between her and her sister filled Jane with a burning rage that knew no bounds.

Alec, on the other hand, was equally obsessed but expressed his devotion in a more subtle manner. He used his power to create an aura of irresistible attraction around their sister, making it impossible for anyone to resist her. He was always lurking in the shadows, ready to eliminate anyone who posed a threat to their sibling bond.

Their older sister, aware of their intense fixation on her, walked a delicate tightrope. She had lost herself in the dangerous dance of her siblings' affections, fearing both their relentless devotion and their unpredictable wrath.

As the days turned into years, the Volturi castle became a dark and twisted labyrinth of desire and obsession. The siblings' bond, once built on love and loyalty, had warped into a tangled web of possessiveness and torment. And within this volatile family dynamic, the older sister remained trapped, a pawn in their relentless game of yandere devotion.

The Volturi castle, shrouded in secrecy, concealed the dark drama that unfolded within its ancient walls. The older sister walked a treacherous path, constantly balancing her siblings' affections while trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy within the coven. Her own desires and dreams had long been sacrificed on the altar of her family's obsessions.

Jane's yandere tendencies became more pronounced with each passing day. She'd seek moments alone with her older sister, her eyes a mix of desperation and possessiveness. "You know you're the only one who truly understands me," she'd whisper, her voice laced with a chilling sincerity.

Alec's influence was equally potent. He'd subtly manipulate situations to ensure his sister's undivided attention. Those who dared to approach her too closely found themselves inexplicably drawn away, as if caught in an invisible web of his making.

Amidst the chaos of their twisted dynamics, the older sister found solace in fleeting moments of clarity. She longed for the sibling bond they once shared, the laughter and camaraderie that had been lost to their obsessions. But breaking free from her siblings' grasp seemed impossible; any attempt to distance herself was met with unfathomable anger and cruelty.

The Volturi coven, under Aro's rule, remained oblivious to the storm brewing within their ruling family. The older sister's pain and desperation remained hidden beneath her stoic facade, as she struggled to navigate the treacherous waters of her siblings' yandere love.

As time marched on, the older sister faced an agonizing decision. She could continue to be a pawn in her siblings' twisted game, or she could attempt to break free and forge her own path, even if it meant defying the Volturi's most formidable enforcers. But with every passing day, the cost of such a decision grew increasingly steep, and the fate of the Volturi siblings hung in the balance, suspended between love and obsession, loyalty and betrayal.

The tension within the Volturi castle grew more palpable with each passing night. The older sister's inner turmoil had reached a breaking point, caught between her siblings' yandere love and her own desire for freedom and autonomy.

Jane's obsession had escalated to alarming levels. She'd often corner her sister in secluded chambers, her crimson eyes filled with a manic devotion. "You can't leave me," she'd whisper, her voice tinged with desperation. Her power, once a means of protecting their family, had become a weapon of torment, a tool she used to ensure her sister's compliance.

Alec's influence remained insidious, his power constantly at work to keep their sister within his orbit. His manipulations extended beyond their immediate interactions, subtly controlling her relationships with other members of the coven. Anyone who showed her kindness or friendship found themselves inexplicably drawn away, isolated and alone.

Despite their overwhelming presence, the older sister yearned for a sense of agency in her life. She longed to be free from her siblings' suffocating grip, to explore the world beyond the Volturi castle. But the fear of their wrath held her back, like an invisible chain that bound her to her yandere siblings.

One fateful night, as the moon cast eerie shadows through the castle's corridors, the older sister decided to take a bold step. She gathered her courage and confronted Jane and Alec in the grand hall, her voice trembling but resolute.

"I can't live like this anymore," she declared, her gaze shifting between her obsessed siblings. "I need my own life, my own choices."

The twins' reactions were immediate and intense. Jane's eyes narrowed, and her lips curled into a snarl. "You belong to us," she hissed, her power crackling in the air. "You can't abandon your family."

Alec's expression remained eerily calm, but his voice held a chilling undercurrent of threat. "Think carefully, dear sister," he murmured. "Are you willing to risk everything for a taste of freedom?"

The older sister's heart raced, torn between the love she once had for her siblings and the burning desire to break free from their yandere grasp. Her decision would have profound consequences, not only for herself but for the Volturi coven as a whole. As the castle's ancient walls seemed to close in around her, she knew that the path she chose would shape her destiny in ways she could scarcely imagine.

The grand hall of the Volturi castle seemed to hold its breath as the older sister stood her ground, her resolve wavering under the weight of her siblings' intense gazes. In that pivotal moment, she felt the echoes of their shared past and the cruel reality of their present obsessions.

Jane's power crackled, ready to be unleashed in a storm of agony. The older sister knew that defying her would come at a painful cost, yet the yearning for autonomy burned brighter within her.

Alec's subtle manipulations were equally potent, but his influence extended beyond the confines of his power. He had always been the calm strategist, and his words carried a chilling warning that lingered in the air.

The older sister took a step forward, her voice shaking but determined. "I love you both, but this isn't love anymore. It's possession, and I can't allow it to consume me."

Jane's fury erupted like a tempest, her power sweeping toward her sister. But before it could make contact, a firm hand grasped her arm, halting her attack. Aro, the ancient leader of the Volturi, had arrived, his eyes reflecting an odd mix of curiosity and concern.

"Enough, my dear Jane," Aro said, his voice silencing the room. "Let us hear what our sister has to say."

The older sister's heart pounded as she explained her yearning for independence, for a life beyond the walls of the Volturi castle. Aro, ever the astute observer, considered her words carefully.

"Family loyalty is paramount, my child," Aro finally replied, his tone measured. "But so is personal growth and happiness. Perhaps it's time for a compromise."

Aro's words hung in the air, a ray of hope amidst the darkness of the Volturi's obsessions. The older sister couldn't believe her ears—could there truly be a way to find balance between her love for her siblings and her desire for freedom?

As the Volturi coven watched in anticipation, the fate of the siblings hung in the balance, teetering between the crushing weight of yandere obsession and the possibility of a new, more balanced future.

[jarofstyles]

FICTOBER DAY 19- Let Me Worry

HERE IS OUR LONE WOLF BABIES!!!

FICTOBER

Patreon

Warnings- werewolves, mention of death, murder, violence, blood, wounds, etc

WC- 1.7k

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

“Harry, please.” Her hand ran over his clammy forehead, wincing at the state of her mate. “Let me take care of you. Let me worry about you.” She whispered, feeling him huff as her fingers brushed his hair out of his eyes. They were bloodshot and the splatters of blood that wasn’t his own was yet to be wiped off his pretty face. Y/N hated seeing him in pain, despite his best efforts to continue his stoic demeanor. 

The lodge was bustling with people, injuries, while not as many as they inflicted on others, enough to make Y/N squirm. She was the alpha’s mate and had been in charge when they’d gone on a run to the perimeter, doing the weekly check of stores at the northeast guard shelter, only to find him dead. It had been an ambush, a nasty one, one that had a bloody wound on his stomach that made her own twist in both disgust and nerves. 

“My love, I will heal quickly.” His good hand reached to her, holding her hand as it caressed his face. “You shouldn’t worry too much. It’s not good for you. I will be alright. I have a good outcome. Damien did not.” Y/N could feel his hurt, seeing the shadow cross his eyes. However ruthless and merciless as Harry could be, he loved his pack. He hated any loss they had, and knowing that there must have been some sort of infiltration they’d missed had him reeling. It was too close to comfort. He had his mate, his packs, dozens of pups that played openly in the fields that the pack members trusted his lead to keep safe. 

He felt like he failed. 

“I know.” His mate whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I know it pains you, Alpha. It hurts, but it isn’t your fault and I won’t have you blaming yourself for such a tragedy. I will not.” She kept her voice soft but the tone firm. Y/N knew that his defenses were nearly foolproof and it had to be someone else's error. She sat in his office with him often as he went over the perimeter cameras, as he made plans, sometimes falling asleep in the crook of his neck as he typed with one hand and used the other to keep her steady in his lap. He was hard working and dedicated to his pack and the safety of al of them. That much was never doubted within them. 

“I don’t know how someone could have bypassed anything without getting caught.” He mumbled to her, watching as she took a cloth and dipped it into the warm water before stroking it over his cheek. When it was pulled away he saw the stain, confirming it was indeed blood he had spilled. While the inner beast in him had been satisfied in ripping the throats of the enemy, it was still pacing back and forth with the unease that someone had dared infringe on his territory. “If anyone hurt you, if anyone got to you….” He closed his eyes, jaw clenched tight as the muscles of his neck pulled. “I would burn down the world for you, my love. You were my first thought.” 

Ah. That was the reason she was having a harder time calming him down. In the past when he had gotten angry, it was easy to soothe him and lower his hackles with a sweet kiss, a stroke, a little distraction. But having a fear driven by the idea of his one and only soulmate being harmed? That was enough to make any wolf crazy, let alone Harry. He admitted himself he was extremely protective of her. 

“I see.” She continued cleaning his face. “Well, I understand. I feel the same way about you. I wanted to cry the moment they brought me the news, but I already knew you were injured. No one knew why.” Her brows pulled as Harry pulled her hand away to kiss the back of it, softening up her face again. “But you’d never allow anyone to hurt me. It will be impossible to penetrate the barriers after this, but even more so? I know. The fates have told me even in my dreams, you’re my protector.” Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, looking into his eyes. They were still dark, the animal in him far from settled, but she knew she was starting to get through to him. 

“Of course I will.” He puffed his chest, voice strong despite the exhaustion lacing it. “I told you, I would make everything and everyone burn if it meant I could keep you safe. I’d slaughter an entire pack if they posed a threat to you.” The man was serious and she knew that all too well. There was no way of denying how much he loved her. If it felt as all encompassing and intense to Harry as it did to her, she could understand his unease over not fully knowing if there was anyone else out there targeting not only him, but his pack. “No one will harm you. No one will touch a single hair on your precious head.” His snarl made her lean back over, seeing now he was getting a bit too worked up as she gently sushed him. 

“I know, my love. I know. Don’t work yourself up all the way now. You’ve got to focus your energy on healing quickly. The faster you heal, the faster you can go to work on finding out who the hostages are.” Fingers dipped into the salve, wiping it across a scrape on his cheek. He healed faster than most, the one on his face sure to be gone by tomorrow, but the salve will prevent scarring. “I’m worried. I don’t like this gash on your side, and I don’t like that you keep trying to get up.” She had been asked by the pack healer to get him to calm down, his irrational anger making him try to limp out of the room to continue the fight. Her gentle rubbing moved over his skin, making a bit of a purr erupt from his throat. 

“There we go.” She praised him. “No one is here right now but me. You’re safe, you’ve protected your pack and your mate. You are a fierce wolf, but right now I need you to let me fuss over you and ensure your face is kept pretty and you keep your body laying down for as long as possible.” 

The wound had been cleaned by the healer and bandaged, though she warned there was likely scarring. Y/N had taken care of the rest. Harry sat quietly as he stewed in his own head, working through cleaning the rest of the blood and dirt from his skin. He wasn’t in the condition to shower just yet, so a washcloth clean up was the best she could do. Her touched seemed to slowly relax him, his body sinking further into the bed as she hummed under her breath and the fire roared in their fireplace opposite their bed. 

“You need to drink.” Y/N coaxed, placing the straw at his mouth and watching as he took sips of water. It wasn’t often that Harry took this sort of treatment, especially because he was the one tending to Y/N with his vulnerability that he hid from everyone else, so she was relieved he actually allowed himself to sit still so she could. “You’re all clean now. I will run downstairs and fill in the people who need to know and get you some food. The door will be guarded. Is that alright?”

Harry grumbled, pulling her hand closer to him to lay on his chest. He was clean now, but his warmth made him sweat a little as he frowned up at his mate. “No. Stay with me, please. I want them to come up to me and ask.” Y/N wanted to sigh, but she knew this was about as good as it was going to get. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight and he wanted to be kept in the loop. She had gotten lucky with him sitting in the bed without trying to escape from her. “Now lay in bed with me, my love. Let them come up to us when they finish tending to the rest. If I talk now, I won’t be able to stop myself from going out to the prison and…” 

Y/N could fill in the gaps. She knew damn well that Harry’s infamous temper would erupt on the few captives they did take. She just needed to keep him down and relaxed until most of the gash had closed up, and that was going to be her goal now that she had met his limit. 

“Alright.” She sighed, moving around the bed and going to crawl in before he rose up a hand. 

“What?”

“Naked. Have you forgotten my rules?” His little smirk made her want to roll her eyes. Even in pain, he was open to being a little pervert. Instead, she did as he requested, letting the clothing fall to the floor before crawling inside of the sheets and allowing him to wrap his good arm around her shoulders. She was careful not to jostle him or put any strain on his body as she relaxed into his chest, eyes closing when she took a big inhale. 

“I think if you stay with me like this.. I will heal much faster.” Harry murmured, turning his head to brush his lips against her forehead. “Gives me motivation so I can take you again. Because I know you won’t let me tonight.” 

“You are such a boy.” Y/N laughed, patting his chest. “You’re correct in that assumption. I have a strict no open wounds during sex policy, sorry.”

[wheregoodthingsthrive]

☘️🎻🍇🌿Who wants to smash dragon ball OCs together like barbies please dm me I need dragon ball friends

All the bits under the cut cause I’m going to ramble about these

Okay. These are my pookie wookie bears from the depths of my brain that have spawned as a result of needing to stretch and chew on dragon ball's expansive universe.

Cress -- Saiyan, a runaway member of the Frieza Force who crashes onto a peaceful, shrouded planet inhabited by the Mel'hivi and their borderline god Andolin. She abandoned the force prior to the destruction of Planet Vegeta and has been willingly staying on Mel'ha with Andolin as she 1. has grown to love and value the planet, her life, and the Namekian and 2. to escape her Frieza Force squadron (SRF). She is dedicated to being a defender of the planet she lives on and its dragon balls. She and Andolin kiss sometimes. Name pun = water cress.

Andolin -- Namekian, a Dragon Clan Namekian who is the protector/'kami' of Mel'ha and the Mel'hivi population. He created, nurtures, and controls Escotera, the dragon of his created dragon balls. He is patient, somewhat stern, and extremely skilled in the magics of the Dragon Clan, creating nigh his own palette of skills that would qualify him as a nigh Grand Elder. Though he is young, he is mighty, basically. He and Cress kiss sometimes. Name pun = the mandolin.

Raserry -- Icejin? Arcosian? Frieza race. The leader of the Special Risk Force / Raserry Force (SRF). He is haughty and serious, showing off less glamor than his kin Frieza. Think Starscream from Transformers but with less "bug on the windshield" vibes. He is the one who organized the SRF, dedicating it to hunting down and executing or the reinstitution defected members of the Frieza Force. (DJD but in DBZ). He is ruthless, doesn't like to play with his food, and helps oversee the political maintenance of the Icejin-Arcosian-Frieza race planet in the absence of its political leaders (Frieza and at times Cold). Name pun = raspberry.

Saffren -- unique race (Zacin/Zacins). The green sketch one. Saffren is Raserry's right hand in the SRF and is the heavy, hard-hitter of the team. He, alongside the remainders of the SRF, are dedicated to the finding of the dragon balls for devious silly little reasons. Name pun = saffron. When Raserry is away, he runs the show with an iron fist and with merciless motion. We love him. He has four arms! That's his special bit.

Tarte -- unique race (Fumi/Fumian). The weird lady punching the super saiyan. Tarte is a member of the SRF. She is a Fumi, an aquatic dwelling mammalian creature who is such an amalgamation of traits and tropes that she is a melting pot of Bad. Her unique skill in the ability to quiet her ki, turn invisible via her mirage-inducing skin, and her traversing skills under water. Name pun = tarts.

[wordbreaker]

The Taming of the Dragon, 3 ✷ Aemond Targaryen

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen / F!OC

SUMMARY: One evening, Aemong, in dire need of clearing his head, catches a Dragonkeeper on the beach tending to Vhagar. The Queen of Dragons doesn't seem bothered by the stranger's presence. Quite the opposite. Aemond is immediately intrigued. Even more so when he discovers that the stranger is a girl who comes from the North and bears the name Snow.

-ˋˏ previous chapter ✶ following chapter ✶ ao3 ✶ my inbox ˎˊ-

         How ironic for the House of Fire and Blood to concern itself with Water.

Driftmark and its succession haunted everyone's thoughts. A blue thorn in the back of those who held the kingdom together.

Aemond’s last vision of Driftmark had been one of blood and pain. Crimson waves had washed away his admiration for the endless sea and the sunny horizon. The only cherished memory he held close to his heart was Vhagar. The rest, he preferred to forget. His eye, hidden under his leather patch, seemed to burst into flame. The pain, petty and merciless, reminded him that he would never be able to get rid of this evening.

Lucerys Strong deserved neither Water nor Fire, and certainly not Driftmark.

The blood fever that kept Corlys Valeryon bedridden cured Aemond’s eternal suffering. Boiling water calmed the dragon's fire which, for ten years, had never stopped dancing and burning those who got too close. He was already looking forward to seeing his nephew's shoulders slumping, his chin drooping and his brown eyes glistening. The only sea he would rule would be that of his tears. Aemond had no regard for the succession of the island—the affairs of the Valeryons had long ceased to interest him—but the prospect of seeing the sadness and disappointment painted on his bastard nephew’s childish face would bring him more joy than any present.

For Lucerys Valeryon would not win, not when Otto Hightower sat on the Iron Throne in his father’s stead.

His half-sister, armed with her usual gall, would parade her bastards around shamelessly, proclaiming loud and clear that Driftmark was rightfully theirs. He laughed, alone in his quarters.

Lucerys Valeryon was not a leader and certainly not a lord. He remembered the little boy who always hid behind his older brother, always involved in Aegon's tasteless pranks. Lucerys Valeryon—no, Strong—was just a rag doll with no backbone, given life and the desire to rule by the stupid words his whore of a mother had insisted on pounding into his head.

“Your Highness, your mother the Queen asks that you join her at the gates.”

Aemond dismissed the servant with a nod and took one last look at his mirror. His violet eye lingered on the piece of leather that crossed half his face—the continuation of the scar on his cheek. No. Lucerys Strong didn't deserve Driftmark.

He turned and stomped off towards the entrance, leaving behind him the glimmering shadow of a blade which, that evening ten years ago, had blinded him as much as the blow.

The prince left his chambers. He could already see himself in the throne room, tired of listening to the pleas of people whose blood was supposedly as pure as his own. Vaemond and Rhaenyra would strut into the Red Keep and then into the throne room, chins up, shoulders straight—the very image of pride—to fight for a bloodline that was doomed. The dynasty of Old Valyria, tainted by the vices of a woman and the obsession of a man. The blood in their veins did not bleed red; their wrongs had blackened it.

Like many other houses, the Valeryon dynasty would kill itself, leaving behind only bastards and stagnant water. Aemond would feast on their demise in silence but with a certain jubilation.

“Do you know why I have been summoned?” he asked his sworn protector.

“Your sister the princess has arrived, Your Highness.”

His only eye twitched with anger. Of course she had. He took a deep breath but continued walking. The corridors of the Red Keep flashed by with his hurried steps.

The sooner he greeted them, the sooner he could leave.

Aemond soon reached the great doors. They alone separated him from his past. The swollen skin of his eye throbbed. It seemed to boil. Water had defeated fire once. He clenched his fist. Sometimes he felt like ripping off half his face. The pain had never subsided. It lay dormant, waiting for the right moment to leap up and paralyse him.

The sapphire in his eye socket had done nothing to appease his sorrow nor his pain. It was just a way for his mother to forget her son was now just a crippled. Its colour would always remind him of Driftmark. He carried the sea in his eye and, when he dared to face his reflection in the mirror, was reminded of it daily.

At the sight of him, the soldiers posted on either side of the doors opened them. He held his breath and rushed outside. The cool wind whipped across his face, calming for a few seconds the storm that was growing inside him. A few soldiers were training here and there. Others were making their rounds.

Aemond looked around but didn't see his mother, his grandfather and certainly not his father, confined to bed by illness and old age. This impotence had brought them this far. Vaemond Valeryon would never have dared contradict the King if he could still defend his beloved child.

Viserys was the cause of many things.

A roar made him raise his head. The long body of Caraxes twisted to land in the courtyard. Its red scales reminded Aemond of the flags his mother had had removed and replaced with the symbols of the Seven. His uncle, Daemon Targaryen, as proud as ever, dismounted nonchalantly, Black Sister swinging from his belt. Aemond dreamed of touching, even brushing his fingertips against, the legendary sword.

A relic of the Conquest.

Aemond did not feel the same visceral hatred for his uncle that sometimes paralysed him. Admiration and respect for Daemon mixed with rage to create an intoxicating concoction.

He only felt that way with another person, whom he preferred to leave to the beach and the night.

Syrax's yellow scales sparkled in his field of vision and tore the thin smile that had so far tugged at Aemond's lips. Vermax and Arrax, small as they were, enraged him to no end. One by one, the dragons landed and shook the ground. A dust storm whirled around and reached Aemond at the top of the steps. He rubbed his black tunic with his hand and gloated when he saw that none of their mounts compared to Vhagar, not even the Blood Wyrm. The prince felt a deep sense of satisfaction at this. It ran through his veins and soothed him.

Aemond, in a rare childish whim, refused to pay the slightest attention to Luke. The pain in his eye seemed to intensify at the mere proximity of the boy. He resisted the urge to cup the left side of his face and straightened his shoulders. The rustle of a cloth drew him from his thoughts. His mother stopped beside him and gave him a thin smile. Worry deepened the wrinkles that, over the years, had multiplied around her eyes and her lips, which were always pursed.

Jacaerys dismounted his dragon. His nephew, though still plain-looking, had grown. His build had thickened and reminded him of a certain Harwin Strong. He chuckled. His mother placed a hand on his forearm. A warning. He didn't care. No one could deny that his sister's first three children were bastards. Even a blind man wasn't naive enough to believe the sweet lies that his whore sister's angelic face spouted.

“Embrot.”

“Inkot!”

“Jātās! Jātās I said!”

Orders in High Valyrian rang out.

A horde of dragonkeepers, covered head to toe in their black armour, surrounded the newcomers and busied themselves around the restless beasts.

Dragonstone, carved out of cold stone, was warmed only by the fire of the wild dragons that populated the island. There were no keepers in this fortress. The dragons knew only their riders and would kill anyone who dared approach them. Arrax tried to char one of the guards, completely ignoring Luke's panicked cries.

If he couldn't control his dragon, how could he hope to rule Driftmark? The Blacks’ nerve could not erase reality—they were undeserving.

Aemond's eyes feasted on this spectacle of incompetence, but his smile soon faded when he spotted a female figure, a whirl of pale skin and brown hair, among the guards.

Snow.

He frowned and watched her walk towards Vermax. She raised her arms towards the dragon, palms outstretched, to calm it down. Beside her, Jace, instead of following his family as they gradually drew closer to Aemond and his mother, began to talk to her. Their heads came closer together. Aemond watched Lucella throw her head back and laugh, all under his nephew's satisfied gaze.

The prince clenched his fists. Why was she there? Wasn't she his dragon's appointed keeper? Vhagar needed her more than that miserable Vermax.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Lucella suddenly met his gaze. She frowned and turned back to Jace, who noticed the exchange and raised an eyebrow. An unpleasant sensation lodged in Aemond's chest and made him itch.

Two bastards together. He laughed at the thought, but his hilarity painfully hit his throat. A lump had got stuck there and was choking him. Why did he feel the need to come between them, to pull Lucella away from his nephew? His hands tingled. Thousands of small needles were screaming at him to do something, not to let the snow be contaminated by water. 

The dragon's fire blazed in his chest, burning away any sense of sanity.

He wanted Jacaerys to perish in the flames of his rage.

Aemond hadn't seen her for a week. Yet her face and the contours of her lips had never left him. She haunted him. In the evenings, her accentuated voice echoed in his thoughts.

Since their eventful meeting, Lucella and Aemond had crossed paths several times on the beach. Their shared love for Vhagar prevented them from killing each other, although he often felt like doing so, for Lucella Snow couldn't keep her mouth shut. The few times they spoke, her sharp words, as sharp as a blade, cut into the cage around his chest.

This cordial understanding soothed his senses and prevented him from dreading his visits to the beach. He had given up going out alone at night, for Lucella Snow never left his side, even when she wasn't there. He couldn't ride his dragon without thinking of the keeper.

She kept looking after Vhagar. The carcasses of charred sheep and game piled up on the beach, staining the white sand with their blood. The dragonkeeper avoided him. He didn't know why. Nothing had changed in their exchanges. Their duels of words, the winner of which always varied, had retained the same tenor, the same intelligence.

What had made her run away from him?

Lucella Snow had blended into the background, disappeared into the shadows, and escaped his blind spot. Aemond should have been happy. No more northern bastard with an unpleasant accent raging in his ears and insulting him at every turn. Yet something prevented him from rejoicing at this absence. He felt he was losing control and hated it.

Across from Jacaerys, Lucella burst out laughing.

He had never made her laugh. His insults sometimes drew a smile, though it was always tinged with resentment, and, more rarely, a snort. Lucella Snow didn't laugh. She would glare and insult you.

Lucella Snow was no laughing matter. You had to decipher her Nordic gibberish, which— intermingled with the insults and stubborn retorts to always have the last word—became particularly irritating.

And yet, Lucella Snow was laughing out loud with his nephew. His plain nephew. Aemond railed against the bastard who, like his mother, stole everything that didn't belong to him. Driftmark, the Iron Throne... And now Lucella Snow and her laugh.

That melodious sound, so clear, so different from her hoarse voice, stayed with him all day. He nodded absent-mindedly to his half-sister and her bastards. Neither Vaemond's nor Rhaenyra's plea echoed in his eardrums. All he could hear was her laughter, and all he could see was her face, her pink, stretched lips revealing astonishingly white teeth. Her hair went round and round in his mind.

He closed his only eye and prayed for a moment's respite, but the Gods turned a deaf ear to his plea.

His father burst in, reaffirmed Driftmark's succession to Lucerys, Vaemond dared to say what everyone else was thinking and lost his head in the process. His sister yelped; his brother turned his head; Aemond remained motionless for that damned laughter never left his thoughts and drove him mad.

He clenched his fists as his eye stared blankly at Vaemond's decapitated head.

Lucella Snow was driving him mad, whether she was there or not.

That evening, she still hadn't left his thoughts. He kept seeing the image of her, head back, smiling. Happy. Happy to talk to Jacaerys. Jacaerys, sitting next to Aegon—who was already drowning in wine—and his betrothed, was talking as if nothing had happened. As if he had not encroached on Aemond's territory. This made him furious. He sank into his usual silence but felt flames dancing in his chest. He waited and waited.

It was Luke's sneer when the roast pork was served that made him snap. His hand came down on the table and shook the glasses. Aemond took hold of his, still full, and raised it in the direction of the only two brown-haired boys, yet another example of their difference, their defect.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hm… strong.”

“Aemond.”

“Come... let us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” said Jacaerys, whose cheeks had become flushed.

The echo of a laugh resounded in his skull. The ghost of his nephew leaned towards Lucella. Aemond’s eye twitched. His thoughts darkened.

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

The bastard dared to punch him. Aemond threw one back and was delighted to hear his jaw crack. Their mothers stepped in as Aegon grabbed Luke by the hair and slammed his head against the solid oak table. Aemond could not contain his chuckled. He was reborn in the chaos and the pain of his nephew. His nephew who had dared to speak to Lucella, his dragonkeeper. Who had dared to make her laugh.

His mother dismissed him. He happily complied. Another second in Jacaerys' presence and he would have had to deal with much more than just a punch in the cheek. The fire that was burning every inch of his flesh—and whose first spark had ignited in the remnant of his eye—was not subsiding.

The flames intensified. They would consume him if he didn't get out of here.

Once outside, Aemond automatically headed for the Dragonpit. Fight fire with fire. He would feed off the dragons’ chaos and rejoice in their hot breath.

The prince didn't dare dwell on why. Why hadn't he headed for the beach, where he was sure to find Vhagar? Aemond kept quiet about this question—the answer to which he knew but didn't want to admit—and rushed into the pit.

His heart missed a beat and seemed to speed up at the same time.

Near the stairs where the Pink Dread had appeared years before, Lucella, staff in hand, was leading the dragons of Rhaenyra's clan forward. The eminent departure of the heiress to the throne had been quickly made known. The decision had been taken in haste. Rhaenyra would return to Dragonstone, where she reigned over her vices. King's Landing would no longer be contaminated by bastardy and manipulation. His grandfather and mother had made sure of that.

“Lykirī, Caraxes,” Snow's husky voice drew him from his thoughts. “Calm down. I don't want to use that.”

She shook her long wooden stick. Aemond had never seen Lucella use one. The other guardians never parted with it. They pricked the dragons' sides shamelessly and hit them when the creatures dared to rebel. Lucella did not stoop to such barbaric techniques. Her voice alone was enough to tame the most savage beasts. She had, after all, managed to bond with Vhagar.

Dragonkeepers forgot that the creatures in their care deserved respect and admiration. Only Snow understood this.

She grazed rather than poked Caraxes' rib.

Reluctance to hurt.  

Without being able to explain it, Aemond felt a certain satisfaction in knowing that she didn't need a stick when she was looking after Vhagar. The bond between the Northwoman and his dragon was unique. The first non-Targaryen to be able to touch her without dying.

A Northern girl who could tame dragons. She would inspire the minstrels of Flea Bottom, whose songs would overflow with metaphors about snow and fire. Lucella was a conundrum that Aemond couldn't decipher.

He hated not knowing. He had prided himself on his intelligence ever since he lost his eye. Luke had taken away his beauty, he would shine with his mind. Philosophy, science, nothing held any secrets for him except Lucella Snow, who symbolised everything her native land was not. 

The first time he had seen her, he had put her relationship with Vhagar down to luck. Perhaps his dragon, just as curious as he was, had become attached to this mongrel from the North. The days had passed. They had met again and Aemond had had to admit that the keeper knew what she was doing. He even dared to use the word “gift”, for no other dragon keeper possessed such an ability to tame beasts as she did: with love and respect.

For the first time in the history of Westeros, snow resisted fire. Ever white and strong, it extinguished flames.

Aemond did not move. He remained at the entrance of the pit and watched from a distance as Lucella calmed Caraxes with great gestures. The red dragon twisted in all directions to avoid her hands, but she was not discouraged. Her voice became firmer. He stiffened as he heard her order Daemon's dragon not to move.

“Lucella!”

The woman turned her head. One of the keepers appeared on the staircase. She was reluctant to leave the Blood Wyrm in the hands of one of the Elders. He had to pull her arm away from it. The Elder grabbed her staff and struck a clean blow into Caraxes' side. The dragon roared. A few waves of smoke escaped from his snout. A warning. Lucella clenched her fist and looked as if she wanted to say something to the Elder, but the other keeper called to her again. She joined him, shoulders tense, eyebrows furrowed.

Aemond watched them talk. From here, he couldn't tell what they were saying, but it seemed serious. They whispered urgently and glanced at the staircase. The keeper pointed to it. Lucella nodded. Aemond watched the girl disappear down the stairs. Something urged him to act. He pushed against the unpleasant memories—a winged pig and a dragon ready to char him— and followed.

Aemond could not see a thing. The dragons' only source of light was their fire. The guards armed themselves with torches to navigate this labyrinth of great galleries and endless corridors. Lucella strode with disconcerting ease in the complete darkness. A few torches here and there illuminated their surroundings, but he had to squint to make out Lucella's silhouette walking at a hurried pace.

Seeing that dragons were condemned to darkness, Aemond was glad that Vhagar didn't have to live in there. His gaze remained fixed on Lucella. She walked without hesitation. The pit held no secrets for her. She knew exactly where she was going and why. His guide in the dark.

“I have not seen you on the beach for a long time. Are you not supposed to be tending to Vhagar? The dunes and the fresh air are probably more pleasant than this… rat hole,” he glanced around wearily.

Lucella flinched, as she did every time they met. A small smile stretched Aemond's mouth. She was almost cute, startled out of her wits. He instantly chastised himself. Lucella Snow was not cute: she was an angry and sarcastic woman who constantly made inappropriate remarks.

The keeper rolled her eyes.

“What are yeh doin’ ere? Don't yeh ‘ave princely duties to attend t’?”

She had quickly abandoned all politeness. Had she ever had any? Their first encounters had exuded a certain reserve that annoyance had swept aside with a wave of its hand. The North and its lack of manners had quickly caught up with her. Aemond still couldn't understand why she spoke to him as if he were a commoner and not the prince, son of her king. The North may have worshipped their Warden, the Starks, but the Targaryen monarchy and power did not stop at the Neck.

“Vhagar don’t need me all th’ time,” she finally said when she saw he wouldn't answer. “She ‘as a rider. Would be good if he remembered. ‘ave neither t’ desire or t’ patience to carry dead sheep on me shoulder every day.”

“You are a dragonkeeper. The crown houses you, feeds you and gives you money to look after dragons.”

“Aye! Dragons. Not just one. Vhagar can look aftah ‘erself for a few hours. She survived Aegon's conquest, she'll survive three hours withou’ a pat on t’ ribs. Sunfyre needs me, Dreamfyre too. ‘nd wi’ Rhaenyra... Four more dragons is nah mean feat, let me tell yeh tha’. Not tha’ it matters anymore. People say you've lightened me workload. I thank yeh for tha’. I don't s’ppose dinnah went well? Was the meat not cooked to yer liking, yer ‘ighness?”

Lucella curtsied ungracefully. Her favourite mockery. Each time, she reminded him that she didn't care about his royal title.

“It concerns you not.”

“Hm… Well,” she shrugged. “I guess wine will loosen yer brother's tongue soon enough. Th’ Street of Silk is t’ best place t’ learn royal business. Everyone says so.”

She turned left into a seemingly endless corridor. He didn't know exactly how long they had been walking or the reason for this expedition.

“Just wish I could’ve looked after Vermax a litt’ longer. Tha’ an interesting character right ther’”

He laughed. It sounded bitter.

“His rider as well, I suppose?”

She turned and stared at him but said nothing. Lucella continued to advance into the pit. Aemond followed. An unpleasant feeling weighed down his shoulders. He opened his mouth several times but could not come up with something satisfactory to say. The image of her laughing at Jacaerys flashed in his mind. How had he done it?

“Do you not miss working in the pit?” he finally asked.

“Nay. It's not healthy t’ be so immersed in the dark. Some o’ t’ guards ‘ave gone mad. Even the North ‘s more welcoming. The dark always passes. Not ’ere. I prefer t’ beach, even if it means yeh’re there,” she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Vhagar is happier than any o’ those dragons. It's awful, t’ way they're treated. If I ‘ad me way, they'd be flyin’ free over King's Landing. A dragon is no slave that can be chained up in t’ dark ‘nd taken out when its rider wants t’ get some fresh air. I've always– Look out!”

Lucella pulled him out of the path of the flames. A dragon, illuminated by the blaze, appeared in his field of vision for a few seconds and disappeared into the darkness just as quickly. His heart pounded against his chest. His hands trembled. He saw himself again, ten years earlier, in the same position. He closed his eye.  

“Fuck!”

Lucella screamed in pain. The distinctive smell of charred flesh rose to his nose. Aemond looked down. In the darkness, he could make out the keeper’s burnt arm. She yelped. The sound tore at Aemond's heart.

A rumble sounded, followed by a second. One by one, the dragons awoke. Lucella swore.

Despite her injury, she pulled the prince towards the exit. He followed her like a puppet, with no resistance in his limbs.

She was touching him.

For the first time.

They left the darkness behind them. Aemond's violet eye fell on Lucella's arm. Her armour had taken the brunt of the attack, but leather was no match for the Dracarys of an enraged dragon. Iron, dragonglass, Valyrian steel... The fire nibbled at everything, leaving nothing but ashes. The usually pale flesh of the female keeper was now nothing but a jumble of black and pink. Melted leather had mixed with the raw wound. He grimaced. It would leave a scar. Only now did Aemond notice that, unlike the other guards, Lucella's face and body had not been marred by the flames.

Before him and his careless mistake, a small, petty voice whispered to him. He did not try to quiet it. It was right. Because of his stupidity, she was suffering. A lump caught in Aemond's throat.

They went out of the pit, onto the open arena. Lucella grumbled under her breath. She berated him for having followed her and distracted her.

“Princes ‘ave no business in the pit! Yeh always want t’ play great lords… saviours… Whatevah! And yeh expect people t’ pick up the pieces yer idiocy caused! The nerve of yeh!”

Hatred took over and soothed her suffering. He let her scream. Perhaps that was the best remedy, for, no doubt, the adrenalin would soon evaporate and leave her weak and feverish.

“We must treat the wound as quickly as possible. I will summon Maestre Mullynn. He'll know what to do. He's the one who stitched up my eye, so he'll probably be able to–”

“Leave me be. Yeh’ve done enough. Go do what princes do. Fuck a whore, play knight, whatevah... I don’t give no fuck. Go.”

For once, he didn't comment on her vulgarity and simply repeated what he had just said. If she didn't see a Maester and treat her burns immediately, she risked much more than a simple scar. Aemond dared to put a hand on her shoulder.

The feel of her skin against his made him lose his train of thought. In his heart, a flame different from the others ignited. He leaned into this pleasant, softer, warmth.

Lucella jerked away from his grasp and stomped on the flame, leaving him cold as stone. She held back a cry of pain through clenched teeth and pressed her arm against her chest. One eye wasn't enough to hide the tremors that shook her arm. He clenched his fist. He would carry her all the way to Maestre Mullynn if he had to. Lucella had to treat that arm.

“I must insist... He–”

“Get lost, for fuck’s sake!”

Aemond stood still, surprised by the explosion. He was not facing a Northern bastard, but a dragon. A dragon ready to destroy everything in its path. In her amber eyes burned the flame of resentment. She had become the Stranger and promised death to anyone who dared stand in her way. Aemond had come close to Death many times. It had never looked so frightening.

He watched her walk away helplessly, her hand trembling on her fragile arm.

His eye itched. He didn't understand why.

As he passed through the gates of the Red Keep, Ser Criston Cole summoned him to the Small Council Chamber. His mother told him that his father, the King, had died and that Aegon was to be crowned.

A tear rolled down his cheek. He was not sad.

[lionheartapothecaryx]

The Vodou Files

Diddy & his entitlement an blatant disrespect of Lwa Ezili Dantor/Black Madonna

For all intent and purposes, the following information is alleged and for entertainment only.

In year of 2024, it’s no secret that Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs is a polarizing figure. After his recent arrest and federal indictment this September on charges of s*x trafficking and more, and with multiple lawsuits alleging a multitude of abuses against men and women, this cannot be denied.

Let’s get into the possible spiritual implications of his recent arrest. In 2017 Diddy tattooed the Black Madonna aka Ezili Dantor on his back, for protection. The Black Madonna syncretism is often been used in Vodou to represent the Lwa Dantor.

Here’s a rending of the photo of Ezili that he seems to have taken inspiration from for his tattoo.

Ezili Dantor is the patroness and holy mother of Haiti. She is known as a protector of women and children, and was one of the petro or war spirits who were instrumental in the Haitian Revolution of 1804, allowing the Haitians to lead the first successful slave uprising. She assisted with giving them the strength in battle to defeat their colonizers and inspired others to resistance in the Diaspora. France went bankrupt during the Haitian revolution and had to sell off their land to pay off the massive debt this caused, spurring the Louisiana purchase and leading to creation of America as we know it, today. These acres of land make up the states of Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, North & South Dakota, Minnesota, Wyoming and Montana. There would be no American Independence, if it hadn’t been for the Haiti.

While Ezili does not own my head, I know her children. They are usually women who are family matriarchs and mothers, who are incredibly kind, patient and strong and actively involved in their communities. They tend to be well respected within their communities and usually involved in community activism to varying degrees. They generally have a pleasant disposition but can be dangerous fighters when challenged spiritually and physically. They make great leaders and can be very wise. It is common for children of certain Lwa to take on similar traits of said Lwa & I believe this aspect can especially be seen in her children, who she claims. While I do not have her in my court, I do carry her sister aspect the darker, merciless and vengeful Le Rouge.

The Ezili are a powerful class of spirits within the Vodou pantheon. Ezili Dantor is an example of a very powerful spirit who can shift fate and reality. She is the peaceful mother but can exhibit extremely controlled violence when necessary, a triumphant warrior queen personified. She does not take disrespect or injustice lightly.

Diddy invoking her essence and protection, with this tattoo while assaulting and harming people continuously would draw her ire, wrath and ultimate disrespect. Some think someone recommended he do this to hasten his downfall or he did this out of pure stupidity.

Others of the Catholic faith, see it as the Holy Mother, the Blessed Black Madonna looking out for her children and protecting them.

Either way it’s clear the drums of justice have begun to beat for Diddy and it’s time for him to account for what he has done.

[onnahu]

Batman apocalypse au

Part 1 - the beginning; Batman, Robin and Batgirl

Bruce Was 8 when the apovalypse came. His parents died in the first wave. Now I don't know if we're going with zombie, or aliens, or maybe the most scary - just earth doing earth things. Yeah. I'll go with that.

Let's say the capsule Clark came to earth in did somehow wavered the climate or ozone layer or wtv. Anyway, it triggered an apocalypse. He still got adopted by Kents, but they parented him in the world where everyone's against everyone. Although maybe the joined some group of survivars or... nvm, it's not about them.

Anyway. An earthquake kills Martha and Thomas. For now, society is still working, so after the first chaos, emergenvy services menaged to bring Bruce to Alfred. Btw Wayne Manor is in crambles. So yeah.

Catastrophies only come afterwords. Earthquakes, storms, cyclons. At some point, we lose electricyty, emergency services stop working, bc people have to care for their own families. Society collapses.

Bruce grows up with Alfred who teach him how to shoot, how to fight. (Bruce has some deep, unfounded fear/hatered for guns, tho. Maybe it's from his past life...) As people become more desperate, gangs starts to form. Who is stronger, that will live. The law of the jungle. Bruce and Alfred live in what stayed from the Wayne manor. Alfred grows vegetables in the garden, and is merciless with his rifle if someone comes too close.

When Bruce is around 14, they find out his cousin, Kate Kane, is alive. At least was alive a week before when she left gotham, looking for purpose in this dangerous world. Bruce want's to follow in her footsteps, but Alfred says no.

It's only three years later, when Alfred wakes up to find a letter and a radio Bruce fixed up. Now, 17 years old Bruce Wayne goes into the world looking for a way to help people.

Who would have know - some cult/assassin organization called the League of Assassins is still functioning in perfect condition. And it's not even because of the Lazarus Waters. They are secluded enough and skilled they can do whatever. And they have plans for the world. Not that Bruce knows about them. Not yet, at least. (Also he falls in love. And his DNA is stolen one night when he sleeps. Not that it matters. Not at all.)

After another 4/5 years, Bruce finds his way home. He's glad to see Alfred alive, even if more tired. Alfred gives him an earful, but still welcomes him with an open arms. Bruce Wayne takes on himself taking care of what was left of Gotham.

It's about 15 years sunce that fateful night, when Bruce finds himself in Gotham when he sees flying Grayson fall from the building they tried to find a safe space for night with their son. Bruce hurries up, and finds a man, later we learn his name is Tony Zucco, trying to grab a child - 9 years old Richard Grayson.

Tony Zucco menages to run away, as Bruce is more occupied with the newly orphanes child. But Richard Grason, in his head, swears a revange on him.

Not long after, Robin joins Batman in Gotham.

One night, Batman meets one Jim Gordon, who lost his wife to earthqake and his son to that apocalitic madness. Jim wants to ressurect the emergency services. People need someone to execute law and give medical help. They quickly become friends.

It turns out Jim has a sweet daughter, Barbara. Too smart for her age. At the rapid age of 13, she becomes Batgirl. (Oh by the way, did you heard about that gal running around calling herself Batwoman?)

Babs and Dick are quick friends, but when Dick is older and become more brash, tored of Gotham and Bruce, and runs away, she declines his offer to join him, deciding on staying with her father and Batman.

So when 17 years old Dick is running around finding friends who will eventually become Titans, Batman and Batgirld (and Batwoman, but she kinda does whatever she wants to do on the other end of Gotham so yk) are a sole protectors of peace. This is a year later, when while on his way out for patrol, he catches a 12 years old kid trying to steal his potatoes. Guess who that is? Jason Todd.

[ramlightly]

Malady Siblings Asks

Hello everyone! I want to try out this style of answering asks that are generally in the same range so I don't swamp people with similar answers.

Here are the asks revolving around Malady's siblings: Patience, Valor, and Noble!

You're right, he's a smug little bastard! He's the youngest of the Knights, made after Malady, and considered the prettiest. This has led him to be used as more of a companion by his creators rather than a protector, in ways that Noble doesn't always like but has no way to say no to.

That doesn't mean he can't fight, however, he very good with a bow and arrow. But he is more than a bit of a coward and terrified of pain, which leads him to especially indulging to his creators whims so he would never go through the same punishments as he had seen used on Malady.

I was going to say yes, because she's a very serious person, even among the Knights, but I do actually really like the idea of her having this hidden love for a servant woman.

Valor would never go for it - it absolutely end tragically and her beloved would just be killed. She would keep her selfish desires hidden forever if she could. But maybe after seeing Malady with Lapis, she would get the courage to run away with her.

Godspeed my friend. She's considered the leader of the Knights for a reason! She's tough, merciless, and utterly devoted to her masters!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Heeey mousey! (◕ᴗ◕✿) I just have a random idea.

How would the adventurers, mages, or even their spouses react to the Farmer, who used to be a former assassin from a powerful mafia? Their parents used to work in the mafia as a powerful duo couple, but they had to resign for their family. However, the mafia didn’t like it and they killed the parents. Then, the mafia gave the Farmer a choice – either they join or else the mafia would kill their siblings. As the eldest, the Farmer had to join to protect their family. Years have passed since then. The Farmer has grown stronger and smarter, and has now devised a plan to escape the mob and leave the country with their siblings. They now live in Stardew Valley, leaving their old life behind in hopes of starting anew.

Yeaaaah, I have these thoughts about it and I just imagine the Farmer, want to forget everything but random mafia people are appearing in the valley and they had no choice but to tell the truth.

Oh, another question with an interesting scenario 👀 It's actually pretty cool to think about how the residents of Castle Village will react to people, things, and events that came from big towns, like Zuzu City. Hope you don't mind if I make only mages and adventurers this time. Nice to see you again, btw, and thanks for the ask! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

Farmer thought Isaac would express his disgust after the truth, but to their surprise, the adventurer began to respect them. Taking on all the dirt and hatred to protect the people you care about isn't something everyone is capable of. He's not an idiot and knows perfectly well that circumstances forced them to be a member of a criminal organisation (but will definitely scold their late parents for their selfish act). Isaac has few connections, but if Farmer needs to protect their family - they can count on him. However, he still gave fair warning that if people call for a fair trial for all mafia members, Farmer must also be prepared to be held accountable, for justice is blind.

Magnus knew it all. Don't look at him like that, Farmer. He is a wizard after all, quite skilful too, and at the first meeting he honestly said that he saw their past and future arrival here. It's not Rasmodius' fault that Farmer didn't believe him then. But he doesn't blame his young friend/adept for the crimes they had to commit out of their own free will. Farmer is very brave, protecting their loved ones from bad people. Magnus will help Farmer if any of the mafia members come to the Valley to find them and their family members.

Camilla's shocked look might fool Farmer and others, but the witch already knew everything. The young, talented Farmer had come to the Stardew Valley with their siblings, become a protector of people from monsters, helping the Castle Village as well - of course Camilla, with her boundless curiosity, had dug into Farmer's past. Really sad, but she admires their willingness to protect and abilities. This could really come in handy for her... Ah, don't let Farmer's worry about the mafia, they're definitely not coming to the Valley. And the recent news of mafia members being arrested/murdered/missing has nothing to do with her*chuckle*.

Yoba have mercy... Farmer has had to face hardships since the childhood, with no way out to escape and save himself and his siblings... Alesia is shocked to realise just what kind of scum there are in the world, forcing a teenager to do their dirty work. The sniper has seen a lot of things, but something like this... She doesn't blame poor Farmer for having to pay for their parents' mistakes. If any of the bastards come to the Stardew Valley, Farmer can count on her bow. And if the law is still merciless to Farmer for their past, Alesia will at least help their family in any way she can.

Jadu is completely baffled and speechless. So much information piled on his head... Farmer is a... wanted criminal? But they were left with no choice. Was there really no other way to escape from mafia and save their loved ones? No, the young wizard doesn't judge them, he has no right to judge Farmer and their unfortunate situation. He knows that Farmer's have grown up pretty quickly and now live in the Stardew Valley peacefully, away from those bad people. Just... if something happens, tell Jadu, okay? He'll try to help them and their siblings, not wanting to see his friend in trouble.

So that's what Farmer meant by telling Lance that they and their family came here "to escape their past"... He's genuinely sorry that his dear friend and fellow adventurer had to deal with the mob out of choice. But also infinitely glad that they were able to finally break the chains and escape with the rest of their family. The galant adventurer doesn't judge them for their past, knowing full well that they were trying to survive and protect the people they holds dear. Lance doesn't visit the Stardew Valley that often, but if he spots someone suspicious, he will warn them and stop the criminal.

[kathyprior4200]

Hazbin Hotel Angels: Vivziepop's Audition Sheets

Emily (name meaning "eager") is much like Charlie; wanting to spread love and kindness to all. She is against the exterminations and horrified that man is turned against man. Her dream is to see demons redeemed and welcomed into Heaven and more saints allowed into Heaven. Also, like Charlie, you'll find her bursting into song at random intervals, wishing for a world where no mortal would suffer. She wants to take responsibility, but since Sera is older and more aligned with the majority "demons are all evil" mentality in Heaven, she is not taken as seriously, despite being the face that new souls get to see. She wants to do more than just "smile and wave." Emily hopes Charlie can succeed with her hotel but Sera is more suspicious and appalled.Sera ("princess"/"burning one"), is more serious and burdened like the Archangels. Although she doesn't like the exterminations either, she feels they are necessary to protect Heaven. She had learned not to trust demons from an early age. Sera is fine with Adam and Lute doing their jobs under her, but, like Emily, hates his derogatory acts against women and prefers not to interact with him at all.

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Adam (villain)

Appearance: Adam is the tallest Exorcist with long black horns with gold tips. Has a white spiked halo above his head. He has yellow eyes, a black face and sharp yellow teeth. He wears a white robe with blue-gray pointed designs on the bottom and gold trim on the sleeves. A blue-gray cross makes up a pointed "A" on his chest. His wings are large and gold. He carries a magical golden electric guitar with him that can shoot out energy blasts to attack opponents.

"The Archangel is in charge of all angel military, the protector of Heaven and the original man.

Adam is arrogant but confident. A total immature rockstar type. He doesn't take things seriously and enjoys lording over others, especially the exorcist warriors (women) he commands. He has a particularly warped view of women, due to how he sees them as subservient to him by design and he has an immature attitude. He is goofy and laid back, but sinister when he wants to."

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Lute (villain)

Appearance: Lute is tall and slender, often seen with a bloodthirsty grin. She has curved black horns with small white stripes on them and a black halo over her head. Her right eye has an X over it, like the eyes of the other Exorcists. Her wings are white with two black stripes on them. She wears high white metal boots, black pants, and a blue-gray short dress stained with blood. She is an expert with all kinds of angelic weapons, swords, katanas, spears, arrows, daggers, guns…you name them, she has them.

"Adam's right-hand lieutenant.

She is vicious, merciless and cutthroat. She rarely shows any sign of emotion outside of stern and focused. She is incredibly devoted and fond of Adam, following him gladly. The only times she shows pleasure in things is when she is slaughtering demons. She doesn't accept failure, she allows for no weakness, and she will leave you behind if you make a mistake.

Clear and fierce voice. Intense and serious, a sharp biting tone. Good effort and action."

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Emily

Appearance: Emily is a bird-like seraphim woman with long spiky white hair, a black/gray face and large teal eyes. She has a white halo over her head. She has six white wings and wears a long periwinkle dress with small diamond designs near the bottom and a dark purple trim. She has a black star-like design on her chest.

"Emily is the Glinda of Heaven, flitting around and bringing hope and cheer to the denizens of Heaven. she is the face of the Angel hierarchy in charge and she adores her people. Doing everything in her power to do right by her kingdom and take on the responsibilities, she is a bit unaware of what goes on, being deliberately kept out of things. She wants to take on more responsibility and is determined, passionate, upbeat and kind.

Emily is playful, with a bright voice, and cheerful energy. Black, youthful, aged early/mid 20s."

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Sera

Appearance: Sera is an avian-like Seraphim woman princess with a gray face with white freckles, thick extended eyelashes, and large teal eyes. She wears a glowing white/teal five pointed crown on her head. In the trailer for Hazbin Hotel, she is seen grinning widely with flames in her eyes. Her hair is white/gray styled in long thick tubes or curls. She wears a long gray/teal with diamond designs similar to Emily's.

"The eldest of the Seraphim Sisters, who work directly under the Speaker of God.

Sera is calm and responsible, carrying the weight of her leadership in Heaven, and feeling constant state of pressure to do right by her people. She is constantly under stress but hides it well with her controlled demeanor. She is overly serious and rarely eases up. Strict and orderly.

Actress of color, aged late 30s."

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Saint Peter, guardian of the gates of Heaven, will make an appearance. The Speaker of God, who is higher than the Exorcists and the Seraphim may be Metatron, Seraphiel or Jesus. Seraphiel may be the father or brother or boss of Sera and Emily. (Seraphiel father and Seraphina mother?). Sera and Emily like singing, musicals and art, since Seraphims sing praises to God. They also have power over fire and are immune to it. The Seraphim sisters are like the Archangels, not taking any sides and only wanting peace and order. They decide not to interfere with the Exorcists, seeing that although brutal, Adam's plan has worked to keep demons at bay for centuries.

[aleksanderscult]

What would you think of Alina potentially becoming evil? Perhaps towards the sense of direction that many believe Daenerys went to?

love ur metas sm !!

Thank you, sweetheart 😭🫶

Actually it's one of my two most preferred endings for the trilogy!

It was either this or Alina kills the Darkling, Mal stays dead, Alina marries Nikolai, they become King and Queen of Ravka, rebuild their country, protect and make the lives of the Grisha better and, in the meantime, they slowly fall in love with each other and what started out as a political marriage becomes a marriage build on mutual love and respect.

My other favorite ending would be Alina becoming dark, she joins the Darkling and together they wage war on the enemies of Ravka and the Grisha. They become fearsome protectors of their people and of each other. Oh! And becoming dark rulers of Ravka (or maybe not so dark when they only thing they're doing is helping their people 🙃).

I know that most stories are like "The protagonist will remain pure and good and will kill the villain and that's it" but I always wanted to read the story of a protagonist becoming darker and darker, losing their morals and eventually joining the villain in his cause. Alina becoming that person would be AMAZING.

(also Alina had all the right "ingredients" to become a dark villain, like her mercilessness, her cunningness, her obsessive mind always thinking and searching for the amplifiers, her enjoying the feel of power, realizing that she has many things in common with the Darkling. GIVE ME ALL OF THESE AND MULTIPLE THEM BY THREE!!)