#Within The Land Of My Imagination I Am The Only God

[mumms-the-word]

So I’ve played a bit more Veilguard and y’all

Y’ALL

Y’AAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

Spoilers below the cut (which I may turn into a lore post later idk)

UM SOUTHERN THEDAS IS DYING?

I have everything spoiler tagged and hidden, idk if people are talking about this but EXCUSE ME??

MY WARDENS AND HAWKES ARE IN DANGER

Okay but like let’s think about this for real (I'm going off memory from replaying the "meet the inquisitor" scene like 3-4 times so forgive any missed details; also I disbanded the Inquisition in this game so idk if that has an effect yet)

Inquisitor and Morrigan said that the south is under siege from a legion, an army, a swarm of darkspawn the likes of which Thedas has never seen. Thanks Ghilan’nain for creating new horrors. That sounds bad but then it gets worse

Denerim, a city that has canonically withstood the Fifth Blight and was the showdown site for a battle against a darkspawn army and an archdemon, is lost. We lost the capital of Ferelden.

Everyone is fleeing to Redcliffe, which is decently defensible but not impenetrable. Redcliffe has already suffered waves of undead and (theoretically) a super dark pseudo-future full of demons and red Templars and such. It stood up pretty well against both, but it’s not great if it’s Ferelden’s last stand against the darkspawn.

What about the Hinterlands? Amaranthine? Gwaren? Inquisitor writes that Ostagar and the Korcari Wilds are seeing surges of darkspawn again--that's where the darkspawn poured forth during the Fifth Blight. That's not good!

Orzammar is helping, but I can’t imagine they’re not also suffering. Are the darkspawn flooding the Deep Roads? Orzammar can’t defend against them forever if it’s worse than we think. Are the Legion of the Dead overwhelmed?

Kirkwall has fallen. A city that has withstood, within the last 25 years, a refugee crisis from the Fifth Blight, a violent qunari invasion, the explosion of their Chantry and the ensuing mage-templar chaos that nearly brought the city to its knees, and the Breach, which opened up dozens of Fade rifts in the city that Varric was still dealing with after the Breach was actually closed. It's gone, it's unlivable, so much so that the Acting Viscount had to evacuate her city and her army to freaking Starkhaven, which is usually their mortal enemy (Prince Sebastian Vael tends to want to annex or control Kirkwall smh)

(Also Aveline is Acting Viscount? that makes sense and also I love that for her, but man what a time to be in charge)

Ostwick, the home city for Trevelyans, is threatened by the rogue Antaam, so I can only imagine that Wycome, where a surviving Clan Lavellan would be, is also threatened by the Antaam (Wycome is closer to Antiva and Rivain anyway). And the rest of the Free Marches is apparently experiencing "the worst" of the darkspawn threat. How many cities other than Kirkwall have fallen? Like Ferelden, what's happening in the spaces between?

In Orlais, the darkspawn have apparently cut a line directly through the country. Both Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are barely holding out, which is partly surprising and partly not. Halamshiral and Val Royeaux are luxurious cities, not defensible fortresses. That said, they have the benefit of the Orlesian monarchy's standing army and the Divine's templar (or templar-equivalent) army, so perhaps that's why they're both still standing.

But I imagine the Exalted Plains, the Dales, the desert landscapes of the Western Approach (which already had lingering darkspawn threats)....those must be suffering. Are the Dales themselves blights, the greenery dying? Is the newly-healing land of the Plains now facing death and destruction again?

I mean, yes, the threat of the gods in the north is also very bad but I am stuck on this idea of trying to figure out how our beloved characters from the last three games are dealing with this! This is their turf!

We know the Inquisitor is running around trying to help but what about everyone else? Like, can you imagine...

How is Alistair doing, facing a blight that has been described as "worse than any blight the world has ever seen"? Either he's a warden and he's sick of dealing with this, or he's the king and he's facing the total annihilation of his kingdom again, only this time the odds are infinitely worse. Is his Warden wife fighting alongside him, or is his Queen helping him keep everything together?

What about Zevran? Is he staying in Antiva, causing chaos among the Antaam who have taken over various cities there, or does his Warden romance convince him to go down south to try and help? And Leliana? if she's Divine, she's likely manning the chantry's armed forces, but if not, where is she operating? Is she with her lover, the Warden, or if she's alone, is she back in the game of fielding information to all the necessary forces who need them? She's not the Inquisition spymaster anymore, but that doesn't mean she's not active

Aveline is fleeing to Starkhaven, where Sebastian is, and Varric is with us in the lighthouse. Isabela is with the Lords of Fortune. What about the rest? Did Merrill flee with Aveline? Is Hawke with them? Or is Hawke with Anders, or Fenris, fighting wherever they need to be? (Assuming, of course, they're not left in the Fade). What about Bethany or Carver, if they're alive? If they're Wardens, surely they're in the thick of it, fighting darkspawn. If they're not, have they gone with Aveline to Starkhaven?

And our DAI friends. Cullen is in Ferelden--has he joined forces at Redcliffe, if he's not romancing the Inquisitor? Is his family okay? Dorian is in Minrathous, we can safely assume Josephine is in Antiva City. I can only assume Josephine is trying her best to keep Antiva City safe through her connections and influence, but how long until events there force her to leave too?

Cassandra is from Nevarra so she may be home, or she's Divine, or she's traveling. If she isn't with her romanced Inquisitor and she isn't the Divine, surely she's out there fighting. Against what? Venatori in Nevarra? Or will her allegiances to Orlais bring her down there to aid a Divine Leliana? Sera is still in Orlais too, presumably, as a Jenny that helps the Divine. Are they both facing the darkspawn threat?

If Blackwall is a Warden, is he even still alive? If he's not a Warden, I can imagine he's back in the Free Marches, fighting darkspawn until his dying breath. Iron Bull and his Chargers, too, if they're all alive from DAI. Whether he's in Orlais, Ferelden, the Free Marches, or passing near Tevinter to be with Dorian, he and his team must be constantly dealing with the blight and the gods acting crazy. Unless, of course, he or Blackwall are with the Inquisitor, fighting right there on the front lines.

Vivienne has probably rallied mages in whatever Circle she's established to help, but help how? Joining the forces of the Divine, or leading a campaign of her own? If Cole is human, is he finding little ways of helping, or has he been human so long that he's forgotten how? If he's a spirit, he's back beyond the Veil. Does the chaos in the south now draw him back? How can a spirit of Compassion, whether human or spirit, deal with what is happening all across Thedas?

I have so many thoughts. And I will probably write fic about it. It all just keeps churning in my head. I love it. It's horrifying. The game may have moved on very quickly from it but boy oh boy am I thinking about my Wardens and Hawkes and Inquisitors and going "What are you going to do?? The world is dying!!"

If I learn more I'll turn this into a lore post that isn't hidden by a cut, but for now I have some mural memories to live through (time to cry about Solas again) and then it's side quest city babyyyy so idk when I'll have an update again lol

if you made it this far, well done :') appreciate you

thank for joining me in this chaos!

[389]

[thenighteternal]

Erang - Within The Land Of My Imagination I Am The Only God

[peachysunrize]

MDNI! Word count: 921

The second Prince Regent!Aemond walks into the room you can feel the tension in his body, frustrated and angry at the council and handling the siege Rhaenyra has put the King’s Landing in.

He is a mess; his hair unruly and his head being crushed under the weight of the Conqueror's crown, and yet, all he could think about throughout the day was how his heavily pregnant wife was walking in their shared chambers with nothing on but her see-through shift that left little to the imagination.

He couldn’t give a single fuck about how Cole was trying to convince the council for another attack, or how his mother tried to get him to talk — not when he had gotten a peek of your sweet pussy at dawn when he woke up and found you writhing in your sleep, the thin fabric overridden up to your hips.

He has become pathetically insatiable for you ever since your body has started adapting to the changes of growing a human within you, and he has been nothing but an absolute beast to have you on his bed throughout the day so he can grab on your hips and drink up the sweet nectar between your thighs.

“Husband,” you say, hands clutching under your large belly as you stand up on shaky legs, giving your prince regent the courtesy he deserves.

He doesn’t say anything, not a single word is uttered as he takes slow steps toward you, his hands behind his back while he lets his good eye wander all over your body; soft, ripe, round edges and so beautiful.

“What ails you, my prince?” You ask, unsure of what is truly troubling your husband.

“Nothing you should concern your pretty head with, Ābrazȳrys -wife-.” He stands before you, inhaling the sweet scent of the vanilla oil your handmaiden applied to your skin.

He can’t focus, the smell of your fragment and your god-like beauty is enough to send his head into a foggy state. He reaches out, exhaling sharply as his long fingers caress your chin, already shaking with the need for his wife.

“Have you eaten today, husband?” Your voice is dripping with honey as you nuzzle your head into his palm, and he bends down to press a kiss to your exposed shoulder, nearly groaning at the feeling of the soft flesh under his lips.

“I am about to,” he says, keeping his face hidden in the crook of your neck, “would you let me have a delicious meal, wife?”

“Of course, my prince, let me tell the maids—“

“No, no…” he growls into your ear, his other hand coming to rest on the fat of your hips, squeezing it with delight, “I don’t want any food, I want the sweet dessert that is hidden between your thighs.”

“Oh…” you sigh in pleasure as he keeps kissing and nibbling on your skin, “then allow me to lay on the bed—“

“No,” his voice is sharp and curt, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel your arousal coat your inner thighs, “I will be the one lying down.”

He doesn’t let you ponder over what he said, instead, he shrugs his coat and doubles off, kicking his boots away before he crawls on the bed, his long limbs covering the length of the mattress as he reaches to pull you on it as well.

You sit hesitantly beside him on the bed, waiting for him to tell you how he wants you.

He sits up a little, taking the crown in his hands before he puts it on top of your head, smirking at your flustered face as you try to find a reason as to what the fuck he actually is doing.

“Conquer your realm, my queen. Come, your throne awaits you,” he says, his pupil blown with lust and desire as he helps you to your knees, laughing breathlessly at how gorgeous you look with his child heavy in your belly and his crown atop your head — truly a sight for sore eyes.

“Aemond I might suffocate you!” You gasp as he positions himself right beneath your glistening cunt, his fingers digging into your ample body as he licks his lips, his carnal desires for you only growing more by every second you deny him your pleasure.

“Then I would die a happy man,”

You gasp loudly, hands reaching to support your weight on the headboard as he pulls you flush on his face, forcing you to sit on his carved nose. 

The moan he lets out as he finally flattens his tongue over your sweet pussy is primal. He licks you clean off your wetness, parting your folds with the tip of his tongue as he plays with your throbbing clit.

Something in Aemond switches on, because in a second he starts rocking your hips on his face, the dip of his nose catching your nub with every roll and his tongue pushes past the first swollen ring of muscles of your cunt, moving it in a rhythmic direction.

He hears you moan and whine in pleasure, which only spurs him on to go faster, while he can feel the tent in his leather pants growing tighter and tighter. He feasts on you like a starved man, groaning and moaning with every lick of his skillful tongue.

He can only imagine how you look, eyes closed, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and head thrown back while you wear the Conqueror's crown, like a true queen.

[ceoofglytchell]

Butterfly

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has even once never forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and- gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won't let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Word count: 4214 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong like features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, fluff, angst, longing, thoughts of major dubcon (it’s only a thought and does not really happen), kinda miscommunication, hurt/comfort, allusions to smut, aegon being miserable, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I was not feeling good last week, but I am back now with this piece here, but I’m not sure if it’s good. But, as always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language. Enjoy 💛

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"I promise that one day I will marry you."

Never once in your life have you forgotten the promise that your uncle Aegon had given you six years ago on the shores of Driftmark. Yes, he was drunk, and yes, he knew that your families would never let a union between the two of you come to be, but a boy could dream. At least that was how he had justified the vow later on when you had to separate the following morning.

You have always wished that your beloved uncle would fulfill his very promise one day, but unfortunately the chance got slimmer and slimmer the more years passed and the more protective your mother has gotten over you, because as Rhaenyra's first and only daughter nothing was easy.

You were born with brown curls and hazel eyes like your brothers, making the sin your mother had committed all the more obvious to anyone else, a walking reminder of her carelessness. However you were born much smaller in comparison to your brothers and even as you grew you remained petite and delicately looking, which caused Rhaenyra to fuss over you like a mother hen constantly, as if she feared you to be a porcelain doll that could shatter into a million pieces with just a touch. She certainly treated you this way.

Aegon however has always seen the watchful eyes and silent warning glances of his half-sister to be more of a challenge than an actual prohibition.

The prince had always been enamored with you, his little niece, but he has always bottled up all his hidden feelings for you within himself so it was only natural that one time where he had swallowed down cup after cup of dornish wine and you sat by him and held his hand after he had been scolded by his grandsire, the words spilled out of his mouth like a river.

He had barely been able to remember it the next morning, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks when he stood before you to say his goodbyes, he knew that you knew. It was either a curse or a blessing, but even as he had watched you leave with your mother, brothers, and a few of the servants, he had known that he would see you again one day and if he did, he would take you as his wife.

You were not sure what you had imagined when you and your family returned to King’s Landing after so many years to assure yourselves that Lucery's claim to the island of Driftmark was defined and would not be contested, but no matter how easy this task seemed to be on the first look, you quickly learned that this was not the case. Vaemond Velaryon and your great-aunt Rhaenys had also come.

However, their presence brought you less out of the concept than to see Aemond beating Ser Criston during sparring on the courtyard as if the man was nothing but a normal knight and not a loyal and trusted member of the King’s Guard. His cold look, when he had seen you and your brothers, made a shiver run down your back and a spark of fear set its roots within yourself, even if you had nothing to do with the tragic loss of his eye.

On that dark night you were with Aegon when it had happened. The older prince had drunken too many cups of wine and stumbled down the stairs that led down to the beach and hit his head. You had sat with him afterwards and watched over him, while he had clung to you as if you were the very last thing that kept him rooted to this world and that kept him from loosing himself to the darkness within his heart.

And then he had given you that promise. That one terrible promise that has been on your mind every single day, which had taken a special place in the depths of your heart. He had promised to marry you and you knew that he would do it, if you would get permission, which you doubted, however, because your mother wanted nothing to do with her half-siblings whatsoever.

You were reminded of said promise when you faced him again in the throne room after six long years; He and his family dressed in Hightower green and gold and you with yours in Targaryen red and black. The difference could not be greater and the tension that lay in the hall could be felt by everyone.

You tried to stick to your mother's words, you really did, but over and over again your warm gaze found his and every time you caught him staring right back at you, an unknown glimmer in his amethyst colored eyes, which you neither could nor wanted to explain.

However, things escalated quickly and your mother quickly pulled you out of the throne room by the arm, leaving the headless body of Vaemond Velaryon behind on the cold stone floor, for which your stepfather was responsible, the word 'bastards' echoing in your ears. It was not easy to be confronted with the truth after all these years, which your mother tried to hide so convulsively, although it was obviously in everyone's eyes and the entire realm knew the truth of your parentage.

Your shocked eyes found those from Aegon before you vanished behind the doors and you immediately knew that this was not the last time you would see him that evening- and you were right.

Your maids, who were also some of your closest friends at the same time, were currently dressing you for dinner when it suddenly knocked on the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, which still looked exactly the same before you had been forced to leave back then. Without having allowed him to come inside, Aegon stepped into the privacy of your old chambers, which were illuminated with flickering candles, whereupon the servants stopped tugging uncomfortably on your hair and stepped away from you, bowing their heads as was custom.

"You may leave us," you told the other women, whereupon they all looked at you with a questioning frown.

"But princess-" "Please, I can do it."

Neither you nor the maids knew really whether you meant your hair or the prince who stared at you without having lost a word so far, which was extremely untypical for your uncle. However, the cup of wine in his right hand was familiar and you immediately became painfully aware of how much you had missed him.

The moment the doors fell shut again and you both were alone in the room and actually stood in front of each other for the first time again in six years, a bright grin broke out on his face and he slowly took a few steps to get closer to you. "Welcome home, little butterfly."

You didn't know exactly what it was; the nickname, his voice, which had matured, or the fact that you finally looked at him again after such a long time, but you couldn't help but close the distance between you two and jump right into his arms.

Aegon was surprised for a brief moment, but he immediately returned your gesture and wrapped his arms around you as well and pressed your slender body tightly against his, burying his nose into your long brown curls, which were half put together into a braid, which was not finished, because you had sent your handmaidens out of the room as soon as you had laid your eyes on him.

He could hear how a quiet, content sigh escaped your lips, whereupon he felt himself relax in your embrace and he felt his grip around his golden cup of wine loosen slightly as if you were the sole cure for the addiction he had developed. After all these years and although you both have grown and changed, you still fit perfectly against him like the last piece of a puzzle that had finally found its rightful place.

"You cut your hair," you noticed with an audible smile in your gentle voice and you immediately snuggled closer to him as if the sole thought of being parted from him for a second time was unthinkable for you.

"And you have grown- if only a little."

You hit him playfully against his shoulder and leaned back a little so that you could look him into his lilac eyes, which you noticed no longer held the same glint as they had back then. In addition, deep dark circles under his eyes adorned his handsome face and he had become even paler, which was why you feared that you needed to worry about his health. He also looked very much tired. However, these little details did not change the fact that the man in front of you was as beautiful as he had been back then if not more.

"Still feisty, I see, butterfly."

"You did not forget it," you noticed with an almost melancholic smile on your rosy lips. Ever since you were children and a small white butterfly had landed on your head in the Godswood, which would happen two or three times more over time, he called you by the name of the animal, since you were probably just as fragile and delicate, you mused. At the beginning you did not really enjoy it, but over time you wanted to hear him say it over and over again- now too.

"Of course not. I would never forget you, my darling."

"Stop it." You looked down onto the ground so that he would not see the obvious blush on your cheeks, but he did regardless. As for you, he paid attention to everything, every little detail.

"I did not forget my promise to you either." The prince said and stroked with one hand over the length of your arm, which was covered by a silken red sleeve. Actually, you did not want to wear a red dress to dinner, as it would only illustrate the fronts between the two sides of your families, but your mother insisted on it. You personally have always preferred lighter colors.

"Really? You appeared to be very much... drunk when you gave it to me, Aegon." You carefully replied while you hesitantly grabbed his hand, the contact igniting a feeling of warmth in you, which you had been longing for as well.

"I was drunk, that much is true. However, I always am and I remember very well that I said that I would marry you."

"This was so long ago-" you said with a quick shake of the head, because you knew that time did not change anything about what he felt for you and what you felt for him. A marriage between the two of you would never be agreed to, even if you could not imagine marrying someone other than him. The hatred between the two sides of your family was just too big and your love would not mend the crack again.

"No, I am serious. Be my wife, please. There is no day that I did not think of you and wanted you to be by my side." He reached for your hands and held them firmly in his own as if that alone could convince you to marry him without further ado and preferably that evening right after having had dinner. He would not allow you to get betrothed, because then he would lose the opportunity to have the only person who has ever taken care of him and who has actually listened to what he had to say. If you were not there, he was miserable- the last few years have been proof of it.

On the other hand, you were completely perplexed and overwhelmed with the situation. You wanted him. He was the only one who had never treated you like a fragile doll or a mindless duckling, but just like a girl like any other and you liked that. You did not want to be considered weak by everyone- of all the dragons you rode Silverwing, by the gods, you were not weak. It was bad enough that you were a dragon rider and your mother did not allow you to ride as much as you would have liked.

Unfortunately, the truth was that Rhaenyra and Alicent would never agree to a union between him and you. They would rather die or burn in the seven hells and you wanted to save yourself the pain that would follow if you asked and the two older women would vehemently forbid it even if nothing spoke against it and it would actually serve to strengthen House Targaryen for future generations. Unfortunately, it was more likely that at some point he would marry one of the daughters of Lord Baratheon or his own sister Helaena and that you would have to marry Lord Cregan Stark eventually.

"You don't know me anymore. If you excuse me, my prince, I have to continue preparing myself for dinner now.”

With a jerk you pulled your hands out of his and sat down at your dressing table, trying to ignore him and push him away from you, because you would not be able to allow your feelings for him to bloom now and in the end you would have to spend your life with another. You would not be able to bear it. The prince looked at you with an expression of utter disbelief on his features, until then a flicker of anger crossed his gaze and he stormed out of your chambers without hesitation, the door falling shut so loudly that it made you flinch.

You just wanted to protect him as well as yourself.

Later at dinner you watched Aegon drowning himself in alcohol and staring at his plate without touching the food at all. Aemond, who sat on the other side of the table, stared at your siblings and you at all times, not letting you out of his sight, until it suddenly escalated and a single toast made everyone become aware of how fragile the bond that held your family together actually was.

Shortly afterwards, your mother informed you that you would return to dragonstone the very next morning and you felt right in your decision to have pushed away the man for whom you had deeper feelings for. It was better for both of you. At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

You told that to yourself when you came back to your rooms and found them empty and dark, you told yourself when you sat alone in front of the fireplace and loosened your braids, when you undressed, put on a light nightgown, and you kept repeating it to yourself when you climbed in bed at last and slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep. You would not be able to bear the pain that would follow if you allowed yourself to actually be with him.

Aegon still felt the taste of dornish wine on his tongue and its effects clouding his senses when he stood in the middle of the night in the darkness of your bedchambers and stared down at your sleeping form in your bed, the moonlight that fell through the windows illuminating your soft features like you were the very image of the Maiden. He was slightly shaky on his feet and he was well aware that he should not be here, but he just could not control himself. Your rejection before dinner and the way you refused to speak a single word to him while you had sat beside each other had robbed him of his last bit of sanity and he just had to know what you felt.

He had a simple plan; slipping inside your rooms unnoticed, tainting your honor and showing his mother the proof of it in the morning, because then she would have to agree to a union just like his half-sister, since you would ruined for any other man. His plan had been so simple, he would just have to tear the blanket right of you, push your nightgown up to your hips and take his pleasure, but when he approached the edge of your bed and saw how peaceful you looked like sleeping, he could not bring himself to do it.

The prince felt a lump forming in his throat, his heart becoming heavy and he could not help but kneel on the floor next to the bed, while he buried his face next to yours in the pillow in the hope that you would not notice the tears of shame burning in his eyes. You should just sleep on and never find out that he was even here. He was a monster for even thinking of ruining you.

He sobbed into your plush pillows, his hands fisting the silken bed sheets tightly when he suddenly felt something stirring beside him on the mattress, but he did not raise his head just yet. He did not want to look you in the eye after what he had originally come for.

"Uncle? What happened?"

Your gentle voice was like a balm for his soul, but he still continued to quietly sob into your pillows. You did not even ask why he was here, but what had happened. Even now you took care of him, although you had wanted to distance yourself from him a few hours ago for a reason that he simply could and would not understand.

"What have I done? Why are you pushing me away from you? What has changed?”

You quickly rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes and you began to caress his back with your small hands, which made a shiver run down his spine and the tears on his wet cheeks slowly started to dry because no new ones fell, at least not right now. Like always, your touch calmed him.

"Why are you here?" You asked him instead of giving him an answer to his previous questions, because you could not tell him the truth. To see how the man you loved cried on the edge of your bed because of something that you had done when you had actually just wished to protect him from that very pain was making your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. You did not want to feel this pain nor did you want him to experience it. What have you done?

"Don't go," he murmured and finally raised his head slightly again to look at you with his reddened, swollen eyes, even if the room was dark and both of you could barely make each other out in the dark.

"Don't leave me a second time, please. Not again... don’t do this to me."

You sighed and sat up in bed, because this was exactly what you had not wanted to happen. His sensitivity was no secret to you and you knew how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you. Your mother had decided that you would return to dragonstone and you could not argue against her decision after what had happened today at dinner. Your house was more fragile than ever and if the others were to find out what you felt for each other, it would be the stone that would set a giant chaos into motion. It would be the end of Haus Targaryen as you knew it.

"Go away, Aegon," you murmured and sat down in such a way that your knees were pressed against your chest and your arms were wrapped around your legs as if you wanted to give yourself a hug to comfort yourself.

“No, please ... darling, don’t," whimpered the older prince and climbed next to you on the soft mattress, desperately searching for your gaze and your closeness. He wanted to pull you into him, love you and never let you go again even for a small second, because you were the only thing in this world that gave him something akin to a glimmer of hope, a light in the deepest darkness of his broken soul.

"Butterfly…"

"Don't call me that!" You suddenly spat at him loudly, which immediately made him wince and made hot tears burn in his eyes once more, threatening to spill over his pale cheeks.

You have never been angry with him before. Never.

"I love you! Don't you see that? I love you so much, but I cannot live with the pain of loving a man that I cannot call my own.”

That was it. The words and the truth were out and he had heard them. His suffering broke your heart, but he deserved to hear these three words from you at least once. You loved him, you truly did, but a miracle would need to happen so that you would be able to live out your love. It was not his fault, nor was it yours, as it was the hatred that has been burning between your mothers for years- a hatred that would probably never vanish.

Aegon was speechless. For a moment he just shook his head in disbelief, which made his white curls fall over his forehead, but it did not prevent him from looking into your beautiful face and seeing in the desperate look in your dark eyes that you were serious. "But I already am yours, am I not?"

"Aegon..." Your shoulders sagged even further down and you pushed your legs even further against your upper body, the sight of it making him miserable, because he did not want to imagine what would have happened had he actually went through with his plan and he would have taken you without your consent and made you his without warning. You would probably have shouted and fought back and he could never have forgiven himself for it and you would never have forgiven him either. No, he was glad that he had not done it.

He carefully approached your trembling shape on the bed and he tenderly wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him as firmly as he could. Now you started to sob into his shoulder bitterly and he started to slowly rock you back and forth, while he buried his nose into your brown hair like he had done earlier, because your scent always seemed to calm him down, but your hair was also a sign for everyone else that you should not exist and that you, being a bastard, would be monstrous by nature, but he could not care about that in the slightest. You were beautiful on the inside and outside and one day he would prove it to you- perhaps even tonight.

"Marry me?" Back then it was a promise, now it was a serious question and he meant it with every fiber of his body. You were meant to be his wife, even if your love would be a scandal in the eyes of the gods, but he has never been a religious man anyways.

"I can't, uncle, I can't."

Aegon started to place soft and slow kisses on the top of your head. He began his exploration on your hair, then wandered down to your forehead, brushing his lips over your eyebrows, over your cheeks, which were wet from the tears that you shed for him until he reached your own lips, which looked so soft and inviting that he could hardly hold back.

"Marry me." He whispered against your lips and he looked for your gaze to see what was going through your head. Your eyes had always been the mirror to your soul.

His voice, his pleading tone, his warm breath that stroked your face, and the sudden closeness to him was just too much for you.

You do not dare to say it, but a simple, barely noticeable nod on your part was enough and the prince kissed you as if his life depends on it, his hands wandering over every centimeter of your body while he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he hovered over you, not separating his mouth from you for even a split second.

The rest of the night you both drowned in a sea of desire and pleasure, years of wanting and yearning coming to its climax. At some point, his hands had sneaked under the fabric of your nightgown, undressed you, while you had returned the favor at the same time, whereupon he had not lost any time to show you what it would mean to be his wife and you enjoyed every single second of it.

Neither Aegon nor you really listened to the argument that followed the next morning after your maid had told Rhaenyra who she had found laying next to you in your bed and what had to have happened at night based on the red stain on your sheets. Insults got thrown around, voices became louder, but you merely snuggled closer to your lover, who protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head to yours while a feeling of happiness flooded him.

You were his now and neither his mother nor yours could ever take you away from him ever again. It was too late for that now.

Love was often said to be the death of duty and Aegon Targaryen would not give a single shit about duty for the rest of his life if it meant he got to forever hold you in his arms like this and love you like you deserved.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

[afsalovesnikolai]

hi! I am 🏛️, so i would like to request a 18!Dazai and reader, like idk of you do smut, if not then you can ignore, i dont want yall to feel uncomfortable.

Make dazai like veryyyy Horny, and reader just appears at the wrong time (poor them)

If you can do this, thank you, if you feel uncomfortable then i am truly sorry.

Guys he is the litteral def of a slut. also u can interperate their relationship.

Anywho yk the drill, too lazy so ill add banner later, enjoyyyyyy

no but srsly i got so much motivation yaeyyyy

You walk into the living room, ready to relax after a long day. However, the scene before you makes your jaw drop. There's Dazai, sprawled out on the couch, completely naked a white button up which leaves little to the imagination. His lean physique is mostly on full display as he touches himself shamelessly, one hand stroking his impressive length while the other goes under his shirt and he tweaks a nipple.

"Fuck, name." he groans, eyes closed in ecstasy. "I've been thinking about you all day. 'Wanted to feel your tight little body wrapped around my cock." He moans out with eyes squeezed shut. Dazai is too lost in his lustful fantasies to notice your presence yet. His hips buck upwards as he works himself over, panting heavily.

"Gonna fill you up so good," he mumbles deliriously. "Paint your insides white with my cum. You'd like that, wouldn't you? To be marked as mine..." he then lets out a whine as he groans. hes an actual slut!

You stand there completely shocked and suprised as you watch with parted dry lips, trying to stutter out anything but just go red at the sight of him. Hes thinking of you so shamelessly too. Hes out in the open and….gah.

Dazai's eyes flutter open for a second and land on you standing there, mouth agape. For a moment, he seems startled, but then a wolfish grin spreads across his face. "Well hello there, Name. Fancy seeing you here," he flirts, making no move to cover himself, in fact he continues stroking himself as he eyes you.

If anything, his arousal only seems to grow at being caught in such a compromising position. His cock throbs and twitches in his hand, pre-cum beading at the tip. "Like what you see?" Dazai taunts, slowing his strokes to an agonizing pace. "Why don't you come closer and get a better look?" he hums as you glance at his red angry tip.

He spreads his legs wider in invitation, the bulge in his underwear straining obscenely. One hand reaches down to cup himself through the fabric, massaging his heavy balls. "I bet you're curious what it would feel like to wrap your lips around my dick. To taste me on your tongue as I fuck your pretty little-”

“ 'Samu!” you exclaim all red at his words. Then the realization hits, Dazai is a man of his words. He gets what he wants no matter what he has to go through. You sigh as you glance at him, hes giving you a look which you know it’ll be difficult to decline. What a slut.

Dazai's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts into you with force, his cock stretching you deliciously. Each powerful stroke sends shock waves of pleasure rippling through your body, and you can't help but moan and yelp in ecstasy. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined passion. The slap of skin on skin, the creaking of the couch, and your constant cries of pleasure.

"That's it, Name," Dazai growls, his voice thick with lust. "Take my cock like the good little slut you are. Fuck, you feel incredible." Ironic how you called him a slut not too long before you started sucking him off.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hips continue their abuse on your poor cunt.. His tongue explores your mouth, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. He taste’s himself on your lips and tongue, the flavor driving him crazy. (Slut.)

As Dazai ruts into you, you feel another orgasm building deep within your core. Your body tenses, muscles coiling like a spring about to snap. "Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna cum again!" you cry out as you spasm and hold onto him digging your nails on his pale skin leaving red delicious marks.

After you both are so spent, you try to communicate your exhaustion to Dazai, but he's too far gone in his lust to register your signals. His hips continue their relentless pace, plunging into you over and over again. As he does, you notice his eyes squeezing shut, his face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. You both are so overstimulated.

" ‘Samu," you gasp out between labored breaths. "I think we should take a break. I'm... I'm too sensitive." You pant out so so tired.

But your words fall on deaf ears as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Can't stop," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your flesh. "Need you so fucking bad. Gonna make you mine forever." Shit your going to die in lust with him.

[opultea]

Eons Ago

You and your husband listen to a tale of the mythology from your homeland, and from your lives.

A.N. - Zhongli and Cloud god reader origin story! This pair originated from my Where's My Kiss? drabbles and then had a cameo in my Babe, Look At Me! headcanons. Maybe I'll make a masterlist for Zhongli and Cloud god reader?

Zhongli x Cloud God GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - SFW - Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

When the sky and earth were first created by Celestia's light, they were intended never to meet. If the sky and ground ever touched, the world would be crushed between them, all life lost to the weight of the heavens. But it seemed that even despite this fundamental law of Teyvat, when influenced by the force of love, not even the gods could help but disobey.

The world was young when the God of Contracts and the God of Cloud were born. The great dragon and shimmering white tiger roamed the lands alone, observing and discovering the world. The land was not as plenteous and grand as it is now, for the gods were young and had not created the wonders we marvel at today. The two gods wandered, familiarising themselves with their land and growing their power. And then they met.

Rex Lapis was the first to notice that he was no longer alone, and he was the first to fall. The dragon stared above as the white tiger lay in the clouds, the gentle shimmer of its fur the only way to tell its form apart from its bed. The god of contracts observed the calm and loving gaze held within the creature's glowing eyes, admiring the world below. Feeling himself pulled toward the god in the sky, Rex Lapis spoke;

"Oh great creature above, pray tell your name so that I might worship it as I do your beauty,"

The illuminated beast peered to the earth below, where the dragon perched on a mountain peak. Leaping down from the highermost clouds where it lay, the god observed Rex Lapis curiously, before speaking its name.

"I am the one they call Oculi Caeli, the one who dances in cloud.” The formality behind the introduction was dropped at the soft smile the cloud god formed, head tilting. “Although, neither this name nor this form needs such dutiful reverence. After all, it seems we are of equal power and beauty,”

Rex Lapis, intrigued by the god’s disposition, proposed a contract.

“Then, let us forever consider ourselves equal so that we may always treat each other as we deserve."

The contract was sealed, and a love was born between the sky and the earth.

Your hand flew to stop any tea from bursting from your mouth. Your hidden giggling caught the amused gaze of your husband, who took the teacup from your shaky hold.

"Are you finding the story amusing, my love?" Zhongli teased, though he lovingly stroked your back to calm your spluttering.

"I just wasn't expecting such an abrupt statement," You cleared your throat. "I'd like to think there was a bit more to it than simply 'and then they fell in love', wouldn't you agree?"

A deep chuckle resonated in Zhongli's throat.

"Yes, perhaps you are right. Though let us honour our dear storyteller and allow him to finish his rendition of this tale,"

When the first humans were born, their fragility was coddled by the god of clouds, who shrouded them from the burning sun of old. Their intelligence and fairness were nurtured by the god of contracts. Together, the two gods raised the people of old to lead them to the greatness of our nation today. The people adored their gods, touched by their kind-heartedness and inspired by their great love. Temples were erected to celebrate them, and not one was ever complete without a statue of the holy tiger and dragon mid-flight, locking eyes, tails intertwined.

"I've always thought it'd be quite difficult to fly with our tails intertwined," you whispered to Zhongli, brought out of the tale by imagining the silly action.

Zhongli chuckled, patting your thigh before nodding toward the storyteller, refocusing you.

However, two familiar voices make your head swivel. "Aether, Paimon, come join us," You call, waving your hand over toward the duo.

Paimon waves excitedly as the pair approaches your table at Third Round Knockout. Aether smiles apologetically.

"Are you sure we aren't interrupting your date?" He asks, concern mixed with some level of teasing in his tone.

Zhongli chuckles, his eyes glowing with a pleased sense of pride. "Nonsense. You are most welcome to join us. We indulge in your company, after all."

The pair take a seat, Paimon quickly helping herself to the red bean bun you offer her. She looks curiously toward Iron Tongue Tian, swallowing her food swiftly before she asks; "What's the story about today? You two seemed pretty interested in it,"

You and Zhongli share a look, knowing smiles exchanged. Zhongli takes your hand in his, affectionately placing the joined hands on his thigh.

"It is a story very close to our hearts," He says mysteriously. "I'm sure you will gather exactly what makes it so as you listen,"

Aether and Paimon tilt their heads, interest piqued as they listen carefully to the storyteller, who continues the tale.

But such prosperity could never last, for Celestia felt great unrest brewing, and the Archon War broke the world.

The world turned red, the land splattered with blood and the sky angry with the hatred that seeped from below. The cloud god walked through the war-torn plains of Teyvat with heavy sadness. Tempest and blackness had been forced from the sky, causing great tiredness and discontent in the god who had always adored the pure white clouds.

"My love," Rex Lapis' voice rang deep through the open plain. "It is not safe here; Osial plans an attack. We must make haste."

"This place used to be a bamboo forest, teeming with life." The soft tone took the god of contracts from his battle-framed mind. He kept his silence and waited for his love to continue. "Now it is torn apart. Not even the weeds grow here anymore."

"Caeli, there is nothing we can do for this place, but we can save our haven from the wrath of Osial if we go now."

"Osial and his wife are not much different from us Morax; they are two gods that will do anything to protect their love for each other,"

"That may be so," The god approached, bringing his hand to his love's waist. "But they are lovers on the other side of a war. Bloodshed may not be ideal, but it is the only path we have left."

The cloud god was despondent. The deity pushed Morax's hand away.

"I will not come to watch you tear them apart."

Rex Lapis did not understand. So he left and did exactly as they both knew he would. As he knew he had to.

When he next returned, Oculi Caeli was still on the ground, staring down at the earth.

"Why are you not amongst your clouds, my love?"

"It is too painful. To be up so high, and to have such an encompassing view of all the destruction and pain in the world below." The god gripped the dirt. "I wish you would bury me. So I did not have to see anything at all,"

Rex Lapis rushed to Caeli's side, on his knees to hold his love close.

"Do not speak this way," He pleaded, bringing his lover's head to his chest. "I will cover and covet you. I will shield you from all that troubles you. But I will never be the reason you are lost to me. This, I vow forever,"

In the years following, no one saw the cloud god. Some believed the deity to have died in the Archon War. Others theorised that Rex Lapis had sheltered his love away in the mountains, so he could protect and love Oculi as he had promised. Even today, no one truly knows what occurred, why the god left this earth, and whether the great Archon Rex Lapis has since had to mourn his love.

Today, our temples still carry statues of the two gods, tails intertwined and eyes locked with an eternal love that echoes through the sky and earth even after their death.

The audience applauds as Iron Tongue Tian takes a bow, some dabbing their eyes at the sentiment in the ancient tale. Paimon rubs her eyes of tears, shooting up from her seat and flying toward you and Zhongli, fists curled.

"What actually happened? You guys can't make us listen to that story without telling us the real ending!" She demands.

You giggle behind a crooked finger, settling a hand over her shoulder to calm her. A pensive look of remembrance passes over your eye.

"The theories are not so far off. I- Oculi Caeli could not take the pressure and tragedy of war. So Rex Lapis hid the god away in Jayeun Karst, where he placed Caeli into a deep sleep. The adepti watched over the mountain heart where the god slumbered, and for centuries, Caeli lived in a dream."

"They say Rex Lapis grieved as if his love had fallen, in the years they were apart," Zhongli continues for you, his smooth voice edged with an old pain. "But he also took heart, knowing that Caeli would not have to see him committing the atrocities he knew made the god's heart break,"

You squeeze your hands around your husband's, moving your knee so it sits against his.

"When Caeli was awoken, after the war, there was a bond to repair between the sky and the earth, as our storyteller put it," You smiled softly, your eyes meeting Zhongli's, a gentle understanding present in the silent exchange. "The time they had spent apart had changed them both. Living in the dream world for so long had placed a haze over Caeli's mind, and the war and bloodshed had hardened Rex. But they fell in love once, and they were more than sure they could fall in love again,"

The two of you share a small smile, and you lean to place your head on Zhongli's shoulder, a gesture he meets by placing a hand on your opposite shoulder to squeeze you discreetly closer.

"Aww, you guys," Paimon places her hands on her heart, evidently touched. Aether smiles at the scene, his heart warming at the prevailing love you shared.

Notes: Oculi Caeli - Latin for 'the eye of heaven' (When Morax calls you 'Caeli' it means he's calling you 'heaven' 😚)

Literally never thought this would get out of my wips, but somehow it's here. Hope you enjoyed!

[darkmagyk]

poorly timed confession / unexpected virgin - Percabeth?

I have no idea what this is. I had like four other ideas before I thought of the stupidest take on "poorly timed confession." It got a little long so I added the read more.

Things had been tense around camp. This was not new. Things had been tense around camp as long as Percy had been going. War would do that. The war of the gods, that they had, so very thankfully, won not 2 weeks ago, and the wars that crisscrossed the continent.

To say nothing of the Northern threat. That seemed one of the only two things’ people wanted to talk about around camp today. The viking sacks along the coasts and the rivers, and the fact that Percy and Anja had kissed and then disappeared beneath the lake for an hour.

Percy preferred that second one. He preferred everything having to do with Anja, his beloved. He hoped, when the camp season ended, he might accompany her home, so he could ask her father, properly, for her hand.

He’d shared his intentions with Grover and Chiron, both of whom approved. But he was working on the perfect time to ask Annabeth herself. He was not so worried about being rejected, but it was still a monumental proposal.

He spent the next week trying to work up the courage to ask her. But he got the feeling she had something she wanted to speak to him about too. There was a nervousness she got, if he asked after her family, or made reference to his mother’s lands. Which he found himself doing a great deal. No need to not make himself look like an opportune match for a girl such as Annabeth, who he knew came from grander origins then his in England. Though he wasn’t always clear on the specifics, beyond her father’s work as a scholar in a place called Bath he had stumbled upon during a quest. Though they were there anymore, according to Annabeth.

It only took a bit more encouragement from Chiron and Grover, but the day after the war funeral games ended, he had his courage.

He and Annabeth slipped away, seeking out solitude by the camps little lake and river, and looking up at the dark night sky.

Annabeth was not veiled now. She wore her wimple all around when they left the boarders of camp, and even often inside, now, but not tonight. Her blonde curls were falling out of her braids, almost glowing gold in the moonlight. And her eyes the purest silver.

He leaned in and kissed her. For he could not help it. And she met him in the middle. And then her hands started to wonder along his body, pushing his mantel out of the way, and then toward his shift, and then towards the bottom.

“I have to tell you something,” she said, and then pulled one of his hands towards her, bringing it to stop where her laces were. There was no mistaking her intentions then. Which made her confession somewhat clear.

“Are…are you not a maid?” he asked. It would not and could not matter to him. But he could think of no other reason she would agree to this here and now. Though he was certainly not going to protest.

She pulled back just a bit, though not before pulling off his outer tunic. All the closed at camp were died a bright red, nearly the color of an orange from the south.

“Of course I am,” She said, affronted for a second, before her pink lips curled into a teasing smile, “I shall be a pure as anything for you, my love. You might use me however you like best.”

“I cannot imagine I should like anything but you.” He promised.

“And all those other women?” She asked, a tease, “surely there are ladies Jacqufie who would not hesitate to give Lord Percy anything they asked.

Now it was his turn to look affronted, “Certainly, there are,” He could not argue her point, “But I would never ask such a thing of an young maid who is my families responsibility. We build castles to protect them, as you well know. What good would it do if there were enemies within as well as with out.”

“I have to tell you something,” Annabeth said again.

“And I you.” He said, but suddenly he was even more worried. This whole situation felt almost like a strange placation.

And he wondered, for a horrible, horrible moment, if perhaps she was already betrothed at home. If that was why she was willing to do this now.

And so in a rush, they spoke together.

“I wish to accompany you home and ask your father for your hand.”

“My family is among those viking all along the coasts and rivers. And I lead the party that sacked Mitchell’s castle in the spring.”

Well, that was not the confession he was expecting.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

What if only the afterlives that take place in a different space exist within the Ghost Zone? But that all the death gods & reincarnation gods are equally important there?

Perhaps imagine it as being a reflection of the polytheism of the living DC realm? All the death gods

Somehow, I doubt that Pariah Dark was truly the literal king of the Infinite Realms. The very name implies that they are infinite. If he had, why would he be referred to simply as king & not emperor or god-emperor? He was certainly a big enough jackass.

It's possible that he was simply a conqueror &, thus, the right of rulership of the lands of the dead that'd conquered would obviously have changed due to this. However, the likelihood that he managed to conquer literally the entirety of a place that is infinite is nil. Because it is an impossibility in the grand scheme of things.

As such, it's more likely that Danny would've only become ruler over those select areas & not the literal entirety of the afterlife. If anything, I see if being more so that he'll have to cooperate with the vast number of death deities within the IR that constitutes Earth.

I admit, I do have a bias in terms of religion & am obviously going to prefer my own over all others & will believe that it is the right one no matter what & this likely shows in my own theories & worldbuilding.

At the same time, I try to be respectful of the cultures of others. Though, perhaps I can sometimes come across as a bit tone deaf.

And I can definitely understand not liking the white-washing of cultures. I hate it when Hades & Loki are portrayed as evil in a ridiculous attempt to draw parallels to Christianity. Because they aren't Christianity & that isn't how they are in their actual stories. Same with Zeus being portrayed as good, because... woof... He uh... he was messed up. Like, holy cow messed up...

I mean, I can understand a degree of creative liberty. Like, I could understand if the myths were portrayed as being his dark past that he's trying to move on from, but the fact that they aren't even addressed sometimes is... I don't like it.

Nods nods. And hey, no worries. You don't feel particularly tone deaf here. The fact that you're giving this some thought at all is enough for me! And hey. I get the having bias towards your own religion. I'm the same way too obviously. :p

But yeah. I'm alright with this way of going about the Infinite Realms and Ghost Zone in relation to other afterlives. It probably wouldn't be how I would personally want to go about this, but I wouldn't mind seeing works using this particular reading of the Infinite Realms.

And I ABSOLUTELY feel you about the Christianization and flattening of mythological figures. Always a very >:T time for me when I see people portraying Hades as evil. Because like... He's not. Also I can't help but to love Loki. He's such a freaking doofus and I love the he. But yeah... I also get frustrated by the flattening of DC characters within this fandom too... Obviously it's not the same, but the ideas are related so thinking about that just reminded me of that... Just... Siiiiiiigh...

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Jenova!Salem: My last tool. My last hope. Son. Failure. Liar! Betrayer!

Sephiroth!Jaune: You stole everything from me, monster. I can't imagine it will be a pleasant experience for you after I slice you into pieces and send you tumbling down eternity. I shall cut off your head and bury it beneath a mountain.

Jenova!Salem: Et en Arcadia ego. Do You know what it means? Even in the lands of Arcadia I was there. Meaning I was once a maiden who lived as you do. Or perhaps it refers to death meaning even in the peaceful lands of Arcadia death stalked mankind. Everything dies except me. I am invincible.

Sephiroth!Jaune: Immortal. Not invincible. The God Of Light isn't very nice. This won't be pleasant for you but you know what? You deserve it. You made me doubt reality. You made me kill my friends. You're an insane monster who hurt me very badly. Consider this your justice.

Jenova!Salem: I tend to do that. I find horrors and bring close to home. First with Ozma. Then with you. You had a flame. A spark. Perhaps if I brought you to this place like your sisters I could have smothered it. If I had known you were coming I would have made cookies and set out tea. But this is the way it has to be. Your sisters were all able to lean on one another. Saphron here. Lily there. But there are places among them that cannot be so well defined. Places which only belong to the greater whole. I am that whole. You belong to me. My precious son. I love you and I'm proud of you.

Sephiroth!Jaune: Your love is ugly. It isn't like the love I have for my friends. It isn't the kind of love any sane person would want.

Jenova!Salem: But then you aren't sane. Are you? Are you irritated paranoid or delusional? Do you see shadows?

Sephiroth!Jaune: No. No shadows.

Jenova!Salem: You are not at the bottom of yourself. You will grovel for my forgiveness. My ghost was enough to unravel you with half a world between us. Now you think you can stand against me? You think I can't make you fall? Will you cry and plead and beg that there is nothing to fear from Ladon and the Hesperides?

Sephiroth!Jaune: Would you really have made cookies and set out tea?

Jenova!Salem: Of course. I've made batches for your sisters in this castle before.

Sephiroth!Jaune: The kitchen in this castle... It's the same one you implanted memories of within me.

Jenova!Salem: Some details hardly mattered. And of course the best lies have a grain of truth to them.

[angelsinthejungle]

7 minutes in heaven with Iñaki

☁️ fluffy smutty ☁️

🤪 My wording can be garbage but the concept’s there I think. it’s just straight to the point. This the kinda stuff I tell only to my diary 😅 I can’t get over this boy ❤︎ ugh. Read more smut

Purple Italicized : readers inner thoughts

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷♡ ♡ ♡

It’s your second day on the job working for a partner company. You go to a big company event and then were invited to their after party. You arrive with your boss and walk up to a crowd. Iñaki is there. They are spinning bottles in groups of people. Your boss asks you to go grab her a drink and find her at a table.

You manage to grab her drink from the bar and see her done-up ponytail sitting not far. As you arrive back and scooch between your boss and the person sitting next to her a spinning bottle lands directly on you. 

You look to your boss. “Wha— are we playing?” “Go, go on,” your boss says as she snatches her drink and starts sucking it down. “Wha? Me? With who?” Iñaki stands up slowly and curiously. You turn red immediately and the whole room sees. “Aha, look at her!” Somebody points and taunts out. “Stop it.” Iñaki nudges them. 

He walks over to you, “C’mere” and grabs your hand introducing himself with his upbeat attitude. You know his name obviously, but go along and introduce yourself to him. He guides you to the coat closet. It’s a little walk away. You feel like you’re dissociating or imagining this. This seems so unreal. Thoughts race and doubts creep in. Surely he’ll just want to talk in there? He has no idea who I am. What if he doesn’t even find me attractive? 

The place is wooden and warm, the closet is small and crammed. You two stand in facing each other. Someone shuts the door. It’s dark in there except a few cracks under the door lighting enough to illuminate his dark eyes. They bang on the door, ☁️“7 minutes… starting…now!”☁️ Your pupils widen!

Goosebumps spread over your body. “Hey no pressure, let’s just see where things take us.” Iñaki says smoothly. You catch eye contact and both blush sharing an awkward moment. You’re hearing a few ambient noises from the tables of people outside. He lifts his arm and scratches his head, “Umm—” You both go to speak at the same time cutting each other’s words off. “No, no, you go!”

Come on Y/n, be bold! “Ca— can I kiss you?” Your eyes shimmer, full of anticipation and desire. “Yes,” he softly whispers; his eyes widen slightly in surprise as you immediately take the initiative, kissing his plushy lips in the darkness of the closet. 

Lightly, you trail up to his neck and grip squeezing the sides, making him light headed mixed with a rush of oxytocin. You grab his curly hair and pull. You’re full on making out. He tastes fruity, probably from some candy he ate earlier. Hands all over one another, you two are so close together the crammed closet suddenly feels spacious.

You pull away tugging his lip with your teeth. Your foreheads are touching. He can feel the lingering warmth of your breath against his lips still. He's panting like a puppy and you’re in heat, a delightful burning through your whole body. Fuck, ’m turned on. But you're chill, you play it cool.

You reach down his pants. He grabs your hand. “I— shouldn’t, uhh,” he whispers. His words are a plea, a desperate attempt to regain his composure but he didn’t tell you to stop. The conflict within him intensifies, torn between succumbing to the pleasure or maintaining control. So aroused and antsy, he caves.

Forgetting his worries he lets go of your hand. You kiss him passionately as you slide your hand down his sweatpants. ♥️ You feel him outside his boxers, rock hard, so thick and warm. God, he’s so turned on which makes your cunt drip. You grasp onto his dick making him huff out and lean into your shoulder for stability. His body tenses as you continue to push his blurry boundaries. 

"Y— you certainly know how... to test the limits…” he moans and blushes. The struggle is evident in his eyes. Your response is to continue kissing and nibbling his neck and cheeks feverishly.

His hands start to skim under your blouse. Searching and exploring your waist up to your tits. He grabs and starts squeezing— it makes him close his eyes and moan out. “Awwh,” Nuzzling into your neck shyly enjoying how your breasts feel in his scooped hands; how your nipples harden as he brushes over them. He’s fuming in pleasure! This closets’ on fucking fire. He’s so sexy giving himself to me like this.

He lets out an “Ooh!” as you shift to directly inside his underwear and grab his hard leaking cock. You pull down his pants just enough for it to spring out causing him to mewl vulnerably in your ear. The laughter and chatter of the people outside cover up his moans. You feel a hint of worry wondering how much time has passed?

Your hand is smothering and tugging his cock. Precum seeps out his swollen head, making it soooo slippery, it’s just as wet as between your tongues. You two are lip locked as you jerk him off. It feels sensational. Your edging sends waves of frustration and eagerness coursing through him making his eyes water. His pleasure reaching new heights. His grip on your shoulders tightening involuntarily.

He’s drooling and moaning into your mouth in the most intimate way. His breaths become quicker in between you kissing. He moans louder, desperately in enjoyment, “Aww Y/N awwh” Your other hand quickly grabbing the coat behind you to cover your shirt, “Yes baby, cum f’me Iñaki.”

When he cums he instinctually pushes his pelvis forward, you see his hot body squirm, releasing his orgasm. He cums and there’s a lot! It’s so creamy, warm and slippery. He then buries his curly haired head into your shoulder and starts groaning and kissing you needly. 

You keep tugging focusing on the tip, you’re high off his orgasm. His body shaking “whoa, awwh” and moaning in shock at how you’re making him feel. He looks up at you making eye contact completely bashful and vulnerable. He’s such a sweet baby boy, it’s so hott seeing him like this.

You feel kinda bad for using whomever’s jacket that was as a cum towel, sigh, woops. Your intimate moment is interrupted when you hear footsteps! Your hearts racing as you quickly get dressed and fix yourselves! Then someone swings the door open only to see you two posing nonchalant. But you’re still unable to cover that wide sly smile crossing your face in devious delight.

He pops out the closet and you follow. “I’ll see ya around.” He looks at you and blushes, then waves. The crowd of people giggling quietly while watching you two part, contemplating if you’d done anything in there. You cannot believe what just happened and you plan on telling not a soul. You walk over to your boss who’s already almost hammered and busy jabbering away at some people. She looks at you and laughs handing you her empty glass, “another please.” As you walk across to the bar you have flashbacks of Iñaki—  his body, dick, and lips, take over your minds eye keeping a ditsy smile on your face. Whoa, what a night.  

-angelsinthejungle 🫣💋 xnorwoodx

[cellarspider]

26/30 PIE to the face

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We return to a movie that is going to linguistically hurt me again, Prometheus. You get to read a ramble about PIE. You’re welcome.

Content warning for MORE OF ME. I cannot be stopped.

So. Imagine you have found a sleeping alien. You believe that they were on a mission to destroy humanity as a disappointment. What do you do? Not waking them up is certainly an option. But what if you do? You’re going to want to not disappoint them.

One could, for example, study the records still maintained within the alien ship. Learn about their culture. Get more than one guy to learn their language, particularly since this translator you’ve got seems to be a little gung-ho on things like “seeing [his] parents dead.” That’s a bit of a warning sign.

And hey, something horrible happened on this ship, probably right before or right after this alien was put into hibernation. There’s a lot of dead bodies on the ship. Having a trauma counselor or three there would be a good call. People trained in de-escalation, definitely. Give you a chance to talk the alien down, and help them process stuff in what’s hopefully a culturally appropriate manner, given your xenological research before waking them up.

You’ll probably want to make sure to take the “kill humanity” button away from them too, that would be a good idea. And, preferably, not have exploded the head of one of their colleagues.

Am I describing a process that would take years? Yes. It should. This is the most important thing humanity’s ever done.

It’s been two days since the Prometheus landed.

As stated before, my faith in fictional humanity was not high in this scene.

David wakes the Engineer up. Rather than any of the measures I described above, the Engineer is met with David, Weyland, some security guys, Doctor Franenstein the head-exploder, and Shaw.

It took most of the humans a good hour or so to stop looking like death after waking up after a two year nap, and this Engineer’s been under for a thousand times longer. The poor bugger is visibly hung over and feeling sick, almost falling over on Weyland.

Shaw starts demanding David ask where they’re from, what’s in the ship’s cargo, why was it made for humans, all in English as Weyland tries to talk over her. They are speaking a language that only took its modern form 1600 years after the last events on this ship took place. The Engineer has zero clue what anyone’s saying.

The Engineer remains silent, and visibly disturbed by how Wayland orders his security guy to hit Shaw, which just makes the still unintelligible questions louder and less coherent.

And then David starts speaking to them.

There was a short dialog between them filmed, but in the final cut, the Engineer doesn’t speak at all.

The final cut also removes Weyland’s pitch for why he should have immortality–he created life in David. David is something more perfect than human. Therefore Weyland is a god, and gods never die.

This is, as you can imagine, not convincing. It would’ve made Weyland slightly more explicable as a character, but the movie hasn’t even done that for its lead, so of course it doesn’t for Old Man Capitalism.

In the full release, David only says a few sentences. To quote Anil Biltoo, who wrote the translation:

The line that David speaks to the Engineer (which is from a longer sequence that didn’t make the final edit) is as follows: /ida hmanəm aɪ kja namṛtuh zdɛ:taha/…/ghʷɪvah-pjorn-ɪttham sas da:tṛ kredah/ A serviceable translation into English is: ‘This man is here because he does not want to die. He believes you can give him more life’.

This is–okay. In the theater, I did not know precisely what this language was. But I was making a fair imitation of the Engineer's expression in response to this, because I was pretty sure it was PIE.

Proto-Indo-European, that is. A massive swath of world languages are all traceable back to one source, though we have no records of it. Linguistic reconstruction of how they evolved from earlier roots allows us to infer a language that must have existed, and we call that the Proto-Indo-European language. PIE for short. And this is a big ol’ slice of PIE right here. 

And I had a whole thing in early drafts of this post. I’d convinced myself over the years that my inexperience with PIE had led me astray in the theater. I’d convinced myself this was a PIE conlang. Meaning, I thought this was a language created for this movie that sounds like a cousin to PIE. That’s still howlingly weird, for reasons I’ll get into. But then I saw this featurette:

[Video description: A behind the scenes featurette for Prometheus entitled “Language Of The Gods”. It interviews Anil Biltoo on his work for the movie, in which he explains the concept of a proto-language, of PIE in specific, and what he did for the movie.]

It’s PIE. It’s a different reconstruction of PIE than the current standard, but it’s PIE.

And I feel vindicated, because that’s what I heard in the theater. David opened his mouth and out came PIE. 

I can actually read a few words in the excerpt. I could hear them in the theater. The word /hmanəm/ is clearly meant to be a root word of “man”, which standard reconstructions indicate is the descendent of PIE *ǵʰmṓ. /Namṛtuh/ is very clearly from PIE *ne-mért, “not-die”, because anything that looks like “mort” in an indo-european language probably has something to do with death. And “/kredah/” is close to PIE *ḱréddʰh₁eti, hence Latin “crēdit”, hence modern italian “créde”, “he believes”. 

PIE is just like that, sometimes. Some roots are unrecognizable, others are instantly identifiable. I’ll include my attempt at a gloss (a brief technical explanation of the meaning and grammar) at the end of the post.

The implication is that the Engineers taught their language to humans. That was Proto-Indo-European, which then spread from there. I almost started laughing in the theater at this. 

In the real world, we know a few things about where PIE came from. PIE was probably spoken by people north of the Black Sea, at least five thousand years ago. This guy who’s just woken up with a hibernation hangover went to sleep three thousand years after that. 

But, y’know what? Fine. Let’s say it’s a liturgical language. David’s done the equivalent of walking up to somebody and speaking to them in church Latin. Weird, but not impossible that it could be understood. Or maybe they’re just so damn long-lived and linguistically conservative that it’s more like talking to somebody in an old-timey news broadcaster voice. Still weird! But comprehensible.

But you know what we can’t possibly link back to PIE? Egyptian, Sumerian, Akkadian, Hawaiian, or the Mayan languages, most of the other ancient cultures the movie says the Engineers definitely contacted. Did all those come from the same ur-language? We don’t know. We can’t know, because our reconstruction methods are ineffective past a certain point. But if they did, then their root language had to have existed before the Bering Strait closed off the Americas from Asia, making any common ancestor at least twice as old as PIE. The movie’s implication is that it was PIE. The language of the gods is PIE. PIEngineer.

Apparently everybody who the Engineers talked to just forgot the language of the gods, save for the linguistic descendants of some nomads on the Black Sea Steppe.

And that’s before we get into the worse implications. We can’t tie East Asian languages back to PIE. Austronesian languages. American languages. African languages. Were these people just not contacted by the Engineers? Did they forget? Did they refuse to listen?

None of these are good answers! None! They’re all bad!

In Anil Biltoo’s defense, he’s an academic linguist, and, to my knowledge, not one who’s a conlanger. Ridley Scott specifically wanted to work in the oldest possible human language, and Biltoo delivered on that, based on modern scholarship. He did not make an alien language that evolved into a human language. If Scott had wanted that, David and Jesse Peterson would probably go feral for the project, but they weren’t asked. What would be the most naturalistic thing to do, if you wanted to get across the idea that humans inherited language from the Engineers?

You make a Proto-Human language. People have tried before, and others have argued their attempts are bullshit. This is one of those times that Wikipedia has a “the neutrality of this article is disputed” flag at the top of the page, because there are nerd fights everywhere on this. We don’t even know if a Proto-Human language ever existed–there could have been multiple independent origins of language–but if you’re writing fiction, sure, Proto-Human exists.

Come up with a vocabulary and grammar that could work for Proto-Human, have David speak it to the Engineer, it sounds alien to everybody, nobody gets to be the special children of the gods, and no linguistics dork in the audience will laugh at you.

They will definitely laugh at what happens next, though.

But the post is not done! Bonus linguistic nerdery below, including a sample of my constructed language and its script.

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://moomin.fandom.com/wiki/Stinky 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407327934 

https://www.uni-wuerzburg.de/en/news-and-events/news/detail/news/new-indo-european-language-discovered/

Edit: additional citations!

Movies in 15 Minutes review of Prometheus by @cleolinda, as retrieved from the Internet Archive. Hat tip to @kantama for identifying it!: https://web.archive.org/web/20120726203957/http://m15m.livejournal.com/23209.html

PIEngineer gloss

Alright, for the language nerds in the audience, I’ve put together a potential gloss, entirely based off of PIE roots available on Wiktionary and a shaky understanding of PIE verb construction:

/ida hmanəm aɪ kja namṛtuh zdɛ:taha/…/ghʷɪvah-pjorn-ɪttham sas da:tṛ kredah/ this.[singular neuter??] man.NOM [anaphoric demonstrative].1.NOM.MASC here not-die EMPHATIC/towards.3MASC.PRES(?)…life-many-[resultative or inchoative verb suffix? adjective of possession, accusative singular?] [genitive singular reflexive?] give.[middle 3S] believe.[stative(?) 3S] A more literal translation would therefore be “This man here does not (want to) approach death…he believes he (can be) given more life-having to himself.”

I am not good at figuring out suffix affixation for PIE verbs, so I probably missed or misinterpreted a few in there. I’m not sure how to break down /zdɛ:taha/ in particular, and /sas/ is a bit mysterious to me. Biltoo definitely created his own PIE reconstruction for this. Vowels are all shifted (ex *éy -> /aɪ/), there’s more palatal consonants (*ḱi-Ø -> /kja/, *polh₁-r̥-m -> pjorn), and other sound shifts I’m too scatterbrained to categorize right now.

PIEngineer to Tade Taadži translation

Alright. I previously mentioned that I have a conlang. I have yet to mention that it is distantly related to Prometheus, powered by the spiteful creative energy this movie engendered in me.

So it’s only fair I translate this passage into my language, write it in my script, and give a thorough gloss.

Jàà odormàà, hu sàà id aannãgu … midadjã kii jur kaas ʻus mogeso. /jɐː odoɾmɐː hu sɐː id aːnːãgu/ / … /midadjã kiː juɾ̥ kaːs ʔus mogeso/ This.VOC not-native-person.ALL, death.INST not go.ATTR want.PRES. Forever.NOM give this.ALL 2S.VOC ACC 3S.NEAR.ponder.PRES.3P.FAR.ACC

Translation notes:

I am assuming David is speaking formally, clearly, and respectfully in this translation, even if one of the people he’s being respectful about is Weyland. Both Weyland and the Engineer are thus addressed using the Vocative case when first directly mentioned.

Due to the formality of the speech, formal style glyphs are also used: these require significant planning ahead of time, to identify ligatures, aesthetic considerations, and, ideally, to select a total number of words that works out to a multiple of six, as this is culturally the ideal number for a line of text.

Formal ligatures can cross glyph boundaries, and are read every time you encounter part of them in the left-to-right, top-to-bottom reading order. The most common ligatures are between grammatical markers, as in this text, but can extend to whole glyphs or even individual components of them. If one is feeling particularly artistic, aesthetic ligatures may also be joined between thematically similar glyphs.

Gendered pronouns are not used in this context. Politeness dictates that any third person pronouns be replaced with the equivalent of “this” or “that”, unless given express permission to use more informal terms of address. This is especially true when referring to non-native speakers, as they do not have an equivalent social role to the five (yes, five) genders of Taadži culture.

The word for “non-native person” used to indicate Weyland literally means “thing that has a spirit”.

Following my shaky PIEngineer gloss, I tweaked the verb in the first sentence: “to die” would normally be “hur hybà” (lit. “to stand at death”), but this has been changed to “hu iddà”, “go to death”, indicating that Weyland fears even getting near the idea.

The word for “forever”, “midadjã”, is derived from the word for 6^6, or 46,656. Tade Taadži uses a base six number system, because I felt like taking Jan Misali up on his heximal advocacy.

The normal word order for the language is SVO, but in dependent clauses it becomes OVS, just to make things harder for everyone, including me, who muttered “ah fuck” when I had to check my notes to remember where to put an allative and vocative in there. It’s after the verb, apparently.

The language has verbal person marking in some contexts, and I deliberately bent the second sentence into a more poetic mode so that I could show it off while retaining formal speech, referring to Weyland’s belief as if it’s a person. The glyphs ligate the person marker to the tense marker, Both to save space and for aesthetic purposes.

I had no word for “believe” when I started writing this sentence, so I grabbed a verb already associated with thinking during unmoving meditation to stand in for it, to get across the idea that “this is something he has thought about a lot”.

It’s a shame David’s being polite, because while I didn’t have a word for “believe”, I do have a word for “to believe despite evidence to the contrary”.

Bonus citations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_(computing)

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[t0ast-ghost]

Episode 30 (Operation Annihilate) WE MADE IT! Though I had a bit of difficulty with this post because they fucking deleted my draft and then brought it back. For no goddamn reason.

Here we go:

- Kirk is staring straight into the sun

- As always kids when avoiding things in space, go to the left

- JIM HAS A BROTHER???!???

- Yelling at Uhura will get you a punch at most Jim. If she can’t do something about the comms then no one can

- It looks like a college building. Imagine going to college and you see the landing party just appear like that

- “They tried to brain us with these clubs.” Brain you?? Yeah, Jim?

- Spock and McCoy being there for Jim after his brothers death

- Aurelan’s fucking SCREAM (props to that actress)

- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKIN THING

- IT FUCKING BIT SPOCK. Kirk is losing everyone today...

- McCoy looks so concerned for Spock while operating on him

- As soon as Spock gets on the bridge he pushes McCoy lol

- “These restraints will no longer be necessary. Neither will your sedatives, doctor.” Spock says this with the most pain in his voice, McCoy just crosses his arms and gives him a look like 'nuhuh'

- “I am a Vulcan… There is no pain.” No gain but seriously I can hear it in your voice- damn there goes the restraints

- BADASS SCOTTY MOMENT YEAH

- Bones is fucking furious. He wants to help Spock but the only way he can do anything for him is to have him rest in sickbay

- As soon as Spock is within arms reach of Bones again, he’s scanning him

- gentlemen.. what is this

- “I understand your concern. Your affection for Spock.” Why don’t you just call him out then, Bones. Takes one to know one.

- The fact that Kirk found the answer and that it was fucking light. If I were McCoy or Spock I’d be pissed off

- Continuing on that… what is this???

- “Do you know what one million candlelight square inch can do to your optic nerves?” He asks this like ‘are you stupid?’ But it’s full of care cause he thinks it stupid that Spock is going to sacrifice himself

- Bones is so so worried I can’t I can’t what

- Everything Bones does to try and get Spock out of it is that he gives Spock the chance to get out himself, tries to give him goggles, makes a frowny face the whole time, says that Spock is the best first officer (he shouldn’t be put in danger), he bargains with Jim a bit, and he still has to do this :(((

- aheem

- “Uh Oh.” WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN UH OH, MCCOY

- Don’t be mad at Bones you bitch, that decision was just as much yours as it was his. I swear to god they all fucked up but holy crap he’s feeling terrible already

- They’re gooping. (edit: I don't know what this means anymore)

- “Bones, it wasn’t your fault. Bones. Bones.” Kirk comforting McCoy. It’s so tense and it breaks my heart. They won’t be truly fine until Spock is fine.

- “We tend to ignore it as you ignore your own appendix.” Good line and I'm glad Spock is okay now but also that's so so convenient

- And now: The last couple minutes of conversation between Kirk, Spock, and McCoy that had me squealing and giggling

Kirk walks over: Mr Spock, regaining eyesight would be an emotional experience for most. You, I presume, felt nothing.

Spock: Quite the contrary, Captain. I had a very strong reaction. My first sight was the face of Doctor McCoy bending over me.

McCoy: Hmm, ‘tis a pity brief blindness did not increase your appreciation for beauty, Mr Spock.

Kirk (as if he didn’t start this): If you gentlemen are finished, would you mind laying in a course for Starbase 10, Mr Spock?

Spock: My pleasure, Captain.

McCoy while leaning against Kirk’s chair: Unusual eye arrangement. I might have known he’d turn up with something like that.

Kirk: What’s that, Doctor?

McCoy: I said, please don’t tell Spock that I said he was the best first officer in the fleet.

Spock turns around dramatically: Why, thank you, Dr. McCoy. (Spock gives him the raised eyebrows)

This episode is so…

Masterpost

Episode written by Steven W. Carabatsos

[siconetribal]

Wishing You Were Here

Tag: @vbecker10, @harlequin-hangout

Pairing: Loki x Y/N

Warning: Fluff, angsty, Loki feels, all the feels, poor Y/N I'm always so mean to you

Author Note: So, I promised way back that I would do another Loki piece, and I've been working on this idea for a bit of a while. I hope you all like it, it's not as humorous as my last stuff, but I wanted to do something more serious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was no denying that life was a force that was impossible to control. It was wild and free spirited, one moment and leisurely and demure the next, a wild stallion with a spirit that with an indomitable spirit, beautiful and exhilarating. An ocean with depths invisible to the eye, majestic and frightening. Life was many things, and at this moment it was unfathomable to Y/N’s mind. For almost one year now, she was living in the Avengers tower and sharing a flat within its walls with the Loki. Who knew a simple online ad was all it took to meet with people who were literally from out of this world?

Sighing for what felt like the umpteenth time, she glanced over the walls of her cubicle at the large analog clock on the wall. Only two minutes had passed since her last check. Leaning back into her computer chair, she slumped and silently groaned. This day was going to one of those long days that never end.

There’ve been a lot more of those recently. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a deep breath. I don’t get why it matters. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and it’s most certainly not going to be the last. It comes with the territory. Loki will be out on missions more often because he’s proven himself worthy of trust and that it was the mind stone that corrupted him. Though, with a tragic backstory like his, it’s no surprise. That all aside, this is a good thing for him. He needs this, and he finally gets a chance to be with his brother. I don’t care what he plays at, he’s a happy younger brother excited to be included with his big brother and his friends, finally. Sitting up properly in her seat again, she picked up a pen and began to slowly tap it against the desk. This was a great thing, and she was happy for him. She wanted him to grow and heal, he deserved this and then some. And yet…there were days like this.

The inky goop slowly rose up, cloying and clinging inside her as she sank deeper into its swampy depths. The thick strings wrapped around her heart, sharp thorns digging into her heart whenever it wrapped around tighter. This heavy guilt was never too far behind the emptiness that lingered at the lack of his presence. There was no denying it anymore, she missed Loki. She missed his witty remarks, his infuriating way of toying with her that left her spinning and dumbstruck, his posh way of speaking, his graceful motions that made her feel like a mole trying to walk on land-awkward and fumbling. She missed his laughter, his sarcasm, his silent companionship, and just everything about him.

Who am I kidding, I love him. She leaned forward, elbows on her desk, as she hid her face in her hands. I love Loki, and there’s no point in beating around the bush. Not like I can do or say anything, though. He’s a prince, an Asgardian god. I’m just some random human that just happened to be in need of a flatmate. He can have anyone. Who knows what sort of beautiful geniuses he’s dated on Asgard, but he’s gone to premiers and events with supermodels, A-list entertainers, and actual human nobles and royals. I’m some girl from a town where nothing amazing happens that landed in NYC with hard work. A huge bookish nerd that’s always falling for the guys in the pages who are as perfect as they can be. I went from spending all my time imagining what it’d be like if they’d existed to actually living with one, and now I know how impossible it is for me to pull them.

Her chest hurt. Her throat constricted and the corners of her eyes stung at the harsh reality that slapped her in the face. She inhaled sharply and cleared her throat. This was not going to happen. Not now at work, not today. “You’re fine, Y/N. You knew this would happen if you accepted these feelings.” She scolded herself. “Chin up, get to work. He’s busting his butt out there on some mission and you’re having a self-pity party? No way,” she sat up straighter. And what a fine booty it is. “He’s one of your best friends, that’s good enough.” Cracking her knuckles, she pushed her computer chair in and got back to researching the locations you were tasked with for potential Avengers intervention.

_______________________________________

Loki sat at the edge of a cliff, watching the blue sky burst into orange and purple as the sunset in the distant horizon. The gentle ocean breeze caressed his face. He took in the crisp salty air and let out a deep relaxing sigh. Why was he such a fool? There was nowhere in the nine realms that he could go that would get her out of his mind. The mission had ended almost a week ago, but he was unable to go back. Not yet. Like a shooting star, she came crashing into his life and he was never the same. The once aloof and independent second prince who had a need for nor no one was now stuck to some Midgardian? Preposterous.

No, she is not some comet. She is the ocean. Shapeless and all encompassing, he stared out at the water stretched before him. The waves lapped against the shore. Unassuming and everywhere, and yet I’m always searching for her.  How long had he been like this? So overwhelmed by her that it was getting harder to tread her waters? When did her waves that licked at her heels start to come crashing over his head. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath with his lips pressed thin. It’s not her fault. It is foolish of me to blame her. She did not come to drown me, and yet here I am tumbling in the depths. 

For many years he lived just beneath the surface, barely surviving was his only purpose. The sins of his past, the horrid and vile emotions of disgust, hatred, and shame hung over his head every day. His traumatic past and the consequences of his poor decisions haunted him every night. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to, and his existence was merely just that, an existence. Who was he? What was he? He needed to find himself once more. “And my overly eager brother was happy to assist me,” he mumbled as he opened his eyes to see the blackish-blue sky slowly begin to dot with stars. “Which led me to her.” He sighed.

When did the darkness turn to light? When did I, Loki of Asgard, begun to look forward for something? No, someone. The one who changed everything was her. It was a random afternoon in the tower when it was brought to the forefront of his mind. Y/N was out of town for some family reasons, and he had been alone in the flat for roughly three days at that point. His training was done for the day and there were no meetings until later in the evening when the recon would return with more data. He had the whole day free to do as he wished. A rare moment of peace, which he took and ran straight to their flat to read the book he was unable to finish because of work. 

Comfortably settled in his favorite leather chair, he picked up the leather-bound tome and opened it. Before he could focus on the words, a flat piece of wood slipped out from between the sheets and fell silently on his lap. There was a hint of sandalwood infused in it with intricate and delicate designs carved into the body with a green braided rope and tassel looped through the hole punched at the top. A birthday gift from Y/N. He had no need for a bookmark. His memory was excellent and there was no need to celebrate his birthday. There was nothing worth commemorating, and he told her as such. Her shoulders had dropped a smidgen at his words, but her smile never faltered. She pushed through with the same energy as she pulled out a small cake she had made for him. 

“Your birthday is important to celebrate because you were born. Had you not been born, I would have never met you, and I’m grateful you were!” Such simple words had struck him, the God of mischief with a silver tongue, silent. She was sincerely happy. His heart thumped rather uncomfortable at his ribs and his mouth felt dry. It was as if he was slowly drowning in a tub of lukewarm water. It was awkward and heartwarming, something he had forgotten long ago. His icy disposition was beginning to melt. He looked around at the well furnished apartment that suddenly felt larger and hollower than the royal halls of the Asgardian castle. He fidgeted in the deafening silence before grabbing the bookmark. Snapping his book shut, he stood from his seat and left. To where, he was not sure, but he could not stand being in there anymore.

He roamed the halls of the tower aimlessly before heading to the cafeteria to eat. He heard a female voice and quickened his pace. Y/N, he eagerly stepped into the kitchen area only to see it was a group of women and none of whom were her. He flashed them a perfect smile, earning a few squeals and giggles, before he excused himself. I should go to the library, that’s it. I need a change of scenery when reading. He straightened his back and turned on his heel. As per usual, there was scarcely anyone there. His favorite spot by a large bay window was empty, as per usual, which made him smile. Just how it he liked it. He walked towards it but stopped at the call of his name.

“Loki, look! Isn’t this cool?!” He turned at her voice, only to find no one there. When did he so desperately wanted to hear her voice call his name? To hear her laughter and ridiculous banter? When did the lack of her presence made his world seem so empty? He gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists when he felt something dig into his palm. Glancing down, he saw the bookmark broken in half in his palm. He had not realized he was holding it this entire time, and it was now just like him, broken. Pocketing the pieces, he made his way out of the library and sought out Thor. He needed to get out of here before he lost it. 

So he took on the earliest and left before she returned. And now here he was, sitting under the star-studded sky of New Asgard, and he was still thinking about her. He knew he was infatuated with her, but it was so much more now. He wanted to possess her, keep her with him. She consumed his mind, burrowed a hole into his life and permanently occupied the spot. Even now, he knew she would have loved to have seen the blazing setting sun or quietly observe the great burning balls of gas burning millions and billions light-years away. She was always everywhere. He gently rubbed at his aching chest.

“Brother was right, this is not a simple passing phase. I,” he paused for a moment. Something about saying it seemed so final. As if putting it out into the ether would seal his fate. “I love her.” He sighed, the weight on his mind vanishing, but a new weight pressing on his heart. He wanted to see her again. Pulling out his phone, he looked at the many unread messages from Y/N. Each of them wishing him the best, success on the mission, praying for his safety, and anticipation of his return home. Home, he snorted at the thought and shook his head. He sat silent for a moment before he let out a small laugh. “She is home, what have I become? How much of a fool do you wish to make of me, Y/N?” He asked aloud, shaking his head at himself, unlocking the device and hitting the phone icon by her name. It rang a handful of times before she picked up, the sound of the phone tumbling and her fumbling greeting him.

“H-hello?! Loki?!” Her groggy voice came from the other side.

“Hello darling, were you sleeping?”

“Mmm, no, just sorta knocked out on the couch.” She mumbled, he could imagine it now, her slowly sitting up with her hair a bit of a mess and as she rubbed her eyes. He chuckled softly. “Are you done with your mission?”

I’ve been done for a while now, but I can’t tell you that. It would break your heart, but the worst of it is that you would never hold me accountable for my selfish whims. You would be understanding and supporting, as you always are. “Yes, we stopped by New Asgard along the way.”

“Oh? Hopefully not for work?”

“No, no, nothing like that. A simple little reprieve to clear the mind.”

“That’s nice, you deserve it.” Her sincerity stabbed at his heart.

“I’ve found a nice cliff where there is a perfect view of the setting sun over the ocean. I watched the cascading colors over the waters and sky transition from brilliant, bold colors to the dark night. It was breathtaking, much like you.” He smiled as he heard her cough from shock. She must have been drinking some water. “I know how much you love seeing these sorts of things, I wish you were here. And sitting here, watching it without you, just didn’t feel right without you. I had to call.” I wanted to hear your voice. “I wish you were here.”

“Aww, that’s really sweet of you. I wish I could be there too. It’s been really lonely here without you, but I know you’re busy, so I can wait. You’ll come back when you’re done”

Oh, how I miss you too. His chest swelled with such happiness at her confession. It was as if he was given the greatest new in all the nine realms. He wanted to run back to the tower right now and hold tightly in his arms. “Only a few more days until we will be reunited again.” He assured her. “I miss you too, my love.” He heard a hitch in her breath and some clattering and her muffled shock. She must have dropped the phone somewhere and is trying to fish it out. Little did he know, she had dropped it on her face and was currently rubbing her nose.

“My love, that’s a new one.” She finally answered.

“Yes, yes it is. Do you perhaps not like it?”

“What? No, no. no! Not at all! I mean it’s uhm, could be a little misleading.”

“Misleading, how so?” He smirked at how flustered she sounded.

“Uhm, well, you know, it could give someone ideas.”

“Someone ideas? Who is that someone and what are these ideas?” She fell silent on the other end, and he did his very best not to laugh, knowing she was probably dumbstruck and trying to gather the words to explain to him what she was implying. Did he know what she meant already? Of course, but where was the fun in that? Though he did miss seeing her expression for himself.

“Well, not just one someone…but one of them could be me.” She finally answered. “And uhm, the ideas, well, you know, love is a very strong word. Could make people think serious things.”

“Serious things? I suppose that would be concerning if that was wrong.”

“Exactly, so you shou-what?!”

“I said it would be concerning if it were wrong. But it’s not. This is not “giving ideas”, I’m being quite up front. But this is not something that should be discussed over the phone. I’ll make sure to make it very clear for you and everyone when I get back. I’ll see you soon, goodnight darling.” He hung up before she could respond, smiling with utter satisfaction as he got up from his spot and made his way back to the city to speak with Thor. They needed to prepare to leave as soon as possible, because poor Y/N will be an utter mess until they return.

[bluebird-poetry96]

He is Magic...

He asks me, “Why do you like me?”

As if, I could, easily, breathe out an answer. As if, it’s as simple as saying, ‘You light up when regarding something you’re passionate about, and how, ‘Your smile, will send me to my knees,’ As if, ‘Your eyes, are like the stars in a night sky, brilliantly shining, but encompassed by darkness,’ would do you justice. As if, I could utter the words, ‘Your kiss, spins my heart like a top atop a table.’ As if, I’d even imagine, speaking those, sour, typical words like, ‘You’re smart, kind, strong, ambivalent, courageous, and powerful. You have been through so much, and yet you still put yourself out there with the possibility of getting hurt again.’

While all these words, ring like the bells of truth high above the church.. It’s not The Reason. The Reason, for me is, hard to explain.

He is such a sight to see: A raven, wings spread wide, soaring through the sky only to land atop the highest part, of the tallest tree, only to rest for a moment, then off again. A reminder everything is fleeting, take time to rest and heal.

He is such a sensation to feel. A raging river, forcing me down stream, battering me against rocks, only to be swept into a hard rooted, cool, calm, clear, stagnant pool to rest. A reminder that no one is perfect, we all have our raging storms to endure.

He has such an aromatically, fragrant, scent. Like that of warm sugar vanilla, the most magical smell in all the world. Or is it something like, taking an inestimable breath, the moment, you step out of the car, when you arrive in a heavily wooded area. Or even the smoke from a campfire, the burning wood, the smoke that will follow you anywhere. He is an Immeasurably, profoundly,  deep breath of Fresh air. A reminder to stop, and reflect on the important things in this life.

He is such a flavor to savor and, oh, how he sat upon my tongue. The aura of my favorite ice cream, melting, leaking down my throat. He swirled his tongue, against mine, I have never tasted anything sweeter. He slides down my esophagus to my heart, where he then sits, and starts a fire. A reminder that everything is precious, some things are so worth the scar on your heart.

He is such a melody to discover and experience. I hear a lead guitar emanating from each breath, I hear the steady drum of his heart. Full of agonizing, anguish. He laughs in the face of that hurricane of contradictions. It has to be Mozart, the power and rage. It rings in my ears with such a determined ferocity, fire engulfs my body. A reminder that we are all different, yet all contain symphonies within.

How can I put into words, that which, I have never been able to describe. The only word, in the english language, that even comes close, is, Love. 

He emits love and empathy like the ocean emits waves. He tells me he doesn’t know who he is, I say he is eternal.

He says, “I don't know who I am, or, who I am turning into.”

But I do.

I know who you are. You are ever evolving, you forced your way out of that cocoon. You have gone through, tremendous, heartbreak, and many life lessons, You turned into goo, nothing left of you, only to emerge in spring. You are, the caterpillar turned butterfly, sitting on a tree branch, letting his wing develop.

You don’t know how to fly. Yet.

I want to show you how to leave that tree, and trust in yourself. I want to show you how, even though, life is hard and scary, How to spread your wings Jump off that branch, let the air catch you. Of course, that is what it’s there for. The prosperity and abundance of powerful vulnerability.  It will be, so, worth it, to acquire the knowledge of your own value, That you can, in fact, fly all by yourself. 

I’ll take this first leap with you, only to show you how it’s done. So you don’t feel forsaken, or forgotten, in a formidable, flash of a moment. 

I will recount, rehearse, recite and reveal All my wisdom, all the sacrifices I made, in vain, to Gods long lost to the people. Amidst my long, lengthy, lonely, life, Lessons learned, that left me, on the edge of a cliff, Standing, toes hanging off of this monumental, mammoth of a mountain Looking a long way down, Ready to throw myself off.

I did, however, learn from my errors in judgment. I learned, One can really only hope to understand that:

There is no light without darkness and There is no darkness without light. 

Great delight can be found amongst the desolate gray clouds making a starless night. Yet, on the same page, Solemn loneliness, can be found, even in times of pure, blissful joy.

Pain, steals light, and can darken the heart. Honesty, humility, and love, can bring it to beat again.  I learned that, all anyone can ask of us, is to Learn from our mistakes, Be patient, be kind, be humble Imbue and uphold honesty. Be wild, without causing damage.

-Raven Blue Bell