#chosen of faith: the fanfic

[izzyizumi]

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

[Please regard my Rules BEFORE Interacting!!] (Positive/Respectful comments are OK!)

Digimon Adventure 02 ~ A.M.V. {Anime Music Video} Title: “Kocchi wo Muite” {“Look This Way”} Sung by: Yukana Nogami Music © CLAMP / Kodansha (Originally from: Cardcaptor Sakura) Featuring Duo/Ship/O.T.P: + {Daikari} / {DaiHika} (with equal Hikari<->Daisuke P.O.V’s, though leaning a bit more in Hikari->Daisuke focus) [+Bonus Ken, 02 Chosen as Support; Taichi & Hikari as Platonic/Familial/Supporting each Other]; {KenDai(+Miya)Hika can be read in; However, the main focus of this one is Daikari specifically, with KenDaiHika as side Poly!}

Summary:

“Although you show COURAGE, YOU’VE{?} got it Backwards A {maiden}[?]’s Heart is {fragile} and Trying…”

“Throughout all of the {xxxx} WE’RE Invincible”–

Digimon Adventure 02 © Toei Animation A.M.V. by Me No $$$ is being made off this Fanwork

Notes: - The 1st minute took about 45 min; 2nd part made took about just over 2hr’s; The 3rd+4th parts from interlude on took 35~ min each, Altogether, it’s already taken 3~4+ hr’s. - This is my 08/02 Focus work, for August 2nd anniversary of Adventures timeline! (by August 2nd, Vamdemon’s invasion of Odaiba had Begun) Daisuke, who was initially captured inside the same center as Odaiba convention center Vamdemon kept Tailmon trapped in; just might have come across a Certain Person (or two) Near this and the following exact Day{s}… (Alluding to Daisuke’s official Drama CD audio Track from “Digimon Adventure 02: Spring 2003”!) - This A.M.V. is overall a Standalone work. (It is not directly involved with my other work); However, it can be considered a work For the storyline that’s a precursor to Repeat-verse, which came before that story was conceived!) Therefore, it can be watched as a Standalone! - I reused a part of an older edit for the earliest Tri P.V.; (for timing placements) it had an old subtitle on, but I’ll remove that for the finished version! - (There is a moment of Hurricane Touchdown!Taichi for Timing) {As it works for my fan-‘verse, I left it in, with a bonus by end!} However, the work is overall/near-wholly 02-focused (so far)! - There is a small amount of out-of-context scenes, However, they’re meant to overall parallel the lyric{s} on-screen. - There is a single Tri spoiler from Kyousei; involving the character of “Homeostasis”, that (mind)-possesses Hikari briefly in Adventure Ep. 45 previously. {“Gennai” [Tri] can also be seen for some short seconds} - Major handful of “The Beginning” sequel spoilers by ending; However, it’s all actually immediately Pre-Final battle. (The Digimon in final battle can be seen Clearly, +Rui)

{I have not yet re-written the Daikari storyline involved with the past ficverse of mine in full; So please take this work as a sort of preview to it!} The ending lines and following sequences especially hint/allude a little more to my ficverse’s potential turnouts; but it can be viewed/read as semi or even fully canon compliant too!

(Further lyric{s} under ‘read more’!)

Keep reading

[the-chosen-afficionata]

Hey! I wrote a fic about the finale of Season 3! Here, take a look! Lemme know what you think!

Summary: They all remained still, until Simon’s sobs had ceased, and the noises he made were gentle and quiet hiccups. Jesus still held him tight, as he repeated the same words again and again: “Don’t let me go… please don’t let me go…”, like a wounded animal seeking mercy from a stranger, who could heal its wounds, and nurse it back to health.

[bushwskq]

Father Charlie Mayhew x witch!reader

cw: 18+

PART 1

PART 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So what should I say? Well this is my first fanfic on Tumblr and English is not my first language. Thanks Google Translate. This one-shot came from a girl in great need of Nicholas Chavez, I kindly ask that you please forgive the mistakes. As soon as I can I will write the second part with more about Father Charlie, this is just the introduction...

I wrote it listening to Tear You Apart and Seven Wonders

Thank you for your attention!

You thought you had everything under control when you moved to this small town. Away from family or acquaintances that you had no desire to see again with a comfortable home decorated in your own special way. You were given the title of exotic by the residents of the place, they didn't seem like they would throw you into the fire like the witches of Salem but you knew that some were afraid of you even if you didn't show magic in public.

Your always black clothes didn't go unnoticed although no one ever said anything directly to you, you wore extravagant necklaces from time to time but what you kept around your neck was often a pentagram and a cross that reflected every movement you made. Walking calmly with a lit cigarette between your fingers, you observed the crowd of people entering the city's main church. You weren't able to determine which audience that place attracted because they ranged from children to old women marked by time.

For a moment you considered going into the crowd, it had been so long since you stepped foot in a Catholic place and memories of your childhood flashed through your mind. You weren't going home anytime soon, there was nothing stopping you from getting in other than your mind. You knew that sermons about sin wouldn't make you change your beliefs, you found help by practicing witchcraft (or what people called the practices you practiced) your relationship with magic was something different from anything you knew and you felt welcomed worshiping their own gods.

You remembered your first mentor, she taught you the basis of everything you know, helping you deal with your complicated feelings during this process. Respect although resentment about the religions that condemned your existence was always present in you. Taking a deep breath while looking around, you crossed the street towards the church without thinking. You stubbed out your cigarette on the sidewalk then took a deep breath until you walked up the stairs.

The church was big, the first thing you thought of was the large tithe they earned on the faithful. You looked for a pew, sitting down at the end then a few minutes later the mass started, it was everything the way you remembered it. Except for one thing.

The priest was too handsome to be a priest, you thought, the man must have been a few years older than you. His hair was perfectly combed back to highlight his chiseled face, his jaw clenched as he waited to speak. You quickly realized that the young women didn't come just because of the Lord's word. The mass continued while the pentagram on your chest weighed as if saying you were in the wrong place, the priest's firm voice walked through the church with its hoarse timbre. You would definitely be lying if you said you weren't attracted to the man.

“What’s his name?” You shyly asked a nun sitting in the front seat. “Fa-father Charlie Mayhew.” The woman responded with a small smile before turning her attention to the lectern. You thanked him politely as you stared at the man, you knew his name now. Father Charlie Mayhew You recited in your mind as the mass continued.

You couldn't take your eyes off that pretty face, in disbelief that someone so young had chosen this vocation. You didn't hear anything until he spoke then it stopped again like a cycle, even with the clothes on you could tell that his body was defined as the outline of his muscles could still be seen. Then he looked at you, you thought about avoiding it but it was too late. Caught like a naughty child doing something he shouldn't, you kept looking until he looked away. You smiled internally.

The hours passed towards the end of the celebration, many people headed towards the exit but not you. Never going with the flow of things you began to explore the church, observing the colorful stained glass windows and the pattern of lit candles. In your peripheral vision you saw Father Charlie talking to a couple, his voice was relaxed although he still maintained his posture.

You stopped at another stained glass window, your eyes attentive to the details. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Father Charlie asked standing next to you, you could smell him and it almost made you fall over. “The church is not used to a new face.” He said, his clear voice leaving you quiet for a moment before he began “I recently moved to the city, Father. In fact, this is the first church I’ve been to in a long time.” His voice doesn't show shame like other people do when they talk to Charlie.

Sometimes intimidated by the man's posture or beauty.“I'm glad to hear that.” you could see the sincerity in his words although he tried to hide something. “Know that the church is open to welcome you, dear.” Charlie approached, turning his face to him: “God has ways of rescuing his lost children to salvation. No matter what circumstance.”

His gaze dropped to your chest where the pentagram rested somewhat hidden by your clothes. His heavy hand touched the necklace with a little force. “The confessional is open on Wednesdays. If you are interested, I will be waiting for you.” He left without looking back, leaving you uneasy as you watched him.

[countrydionysia]

2024 Rural Dionysia Announcement

Io! The time of the year has come again for the Rural Dionysia!

How to participate

The Rural Dionysia is meant to be a smaller competition than its urban counterpart, as such, we have selected only 3 categories:

Freestyle poetry

Modern hymns

“Complete the fragment”

Freestyle poetry

Your poem can be about any chosen topic (myth, personal experience etc.) in any written format. It doesn't have to be religious in nature.

Modern hymn

An hymn must sing the praises of a deity of your choice. Unlike the "freestyle poetry", your work must be of religious nature to fit in this category.

Complete the Fragment

Each year, we choose a fragment from an Ancient Greek poet to work with. The challenge is that the initial fragment must be included somewhere in your piece in its original order. This means you can fill the gaps however you want, but you can’t switch the order of the words in your piece or remove words from the original fragment.

Here is the fragment selected for this 2024 edition:

Fragment 113 by Alcaeus (trans. David A. Campbell; Loeb 142)

…kiss…(they) began…knowledge…sits…are…mortal

Here is the Greek text for reference. Note that because the word "they" is implied, it will be acceptable to keep or modify this word.

If in doubt for any of these categories, remember that you can check submissions from the previous years to get an idea of how others have done before.

Submitting your piece

Please submit your piece through submissions on this blog. All entries must be tagged for the category they are being submitted to. but you can only choose 1 category per piece and each person may only submit 1 entry per category each year.

Entries must also be tagged for potentially triggering content and squicks. If your entry needs a trigger warning, kindly add them at the end of your submission and we will take care of adding them in. Check the rules below for further information about submissions.

Calendar of the event

Nov. 16: Official announcement and opening of submissions. Dec. 17: Final submission day. Dec. 18: Vote opening. Dec. 25: Vote closing. Dec. 25-26: Announcement of the winners!

No worries though! We will be posting reminders about each step when the time comes.

General rules

Roleplay and fanfic are not acceptable submissions. This is a religious festival, please respect our faith and do not submit an entry if you are roleplaying or writing fanfiction.

Unlike with the City Dionysia, entries do not necessarily have to be about specific deities or Hellenic polytheism except for the “Modern Hymn” category, which has to be dedicated to one or many gods of your choice.

There are no meter restrictions. This is up to the writer.

All stories, myths, and poems must be entered using the submissions button.

All entries must be tagged for the category they are being submitted to. Entries must also be tagged for potentially triggering content and squicks.

An entry may only be submitted to a single category.

Each person may only submit one entry per category each year.

Winners for each category will be decided by popular vote.

Admins of this blog cannot participate, for obvious reasons. As for now, this includes @thegrapeandthefig @verdantlyviolet

Questions about the rules? Check the blog for past answers, your answer might be in there. And if it's not, simply submit an ask. We'll answer in the best delays possible.

[seaswallovvme]

You are the one I’d come looking for. Over and over and over again

A/N: I am SO sorry for this but I can’t believe I’ve never seen a fanfic like this so I took it upon myself to write it. No beta reading or editing. We die like..nevermind

TW: angst, hurt and comfort, leprosy? No one is dying!!

People had thought her foolish for longer than she could think.

A pretty, young maiden from a good house, wealthy parents with political influence others could only dream of and yet she had chosen to marry a leper.

The king of Jerusalem was well known around nobility for more than just that of course, having won the battle of Montgisard against the Arabs at such young age seemed like a miracle from God above.

Even before that she had been by his side and it was not the fortunes, glory or status that had interested her which would no doubt be beneficial side effects of being married to him.

No young woman in her right mind would have willingly accepted the hand of a man doomed and she could hardly blame them.

Her parents had approved of the marriage as their hands were bound, depending on trade offers and the generosity of the holy land for their own existence.

Even then, when the letter from the court of Jerusalem had arrived they had been worried about the future of their darling girl.

Everyone had been, even nobility from far away and the news of King Baldwins marriage had spread quickly and then the whispering began.

She had never been bothered by the likes of them, faithful to her new husband who treated her with utmost care, she had everything she could have ever asked for and more.

He was a good man, gentle and wise for his age and he was grateful she had accepted his hand in marriage, he would have been a fool to not treat her well.

To him it was more than a political match propagating his strength to the outside kingdoms and his own.

To him this young woman was home, acceptance and love.

Despite all this their marriage was a slightly unusual one.

They had never been able to kiss nor were they able to consummate the marriage in a way deemed proper, the king refusing to risk contagion and his physicians agreed with him.

Despite all this she had never minded the lack of physicality in their marriage all that much.

She cared about him in a way that was beyond desires of the flesh, what they shared came close to holiness.

They talked a lot, shared poems and stories when she would caress his bandaged hands.

She would spend the late evenings in their shared chambers, after a tremendous amount of convincing, finally applying ointments to his sore, blistered skin to help it slow the spreading.

She would caress his bare back with fingers gentle as if she feared he would disappear into thin air, like a vision or a daydream, is she dared touching him too firmly.

In their eyes those sacred moments were almost enough but of course even the fate of the most pure could be harsh more often than not.

It started with a pale rash on her side, right over her ribs.

At first she had been sure it had come from spending too much time in the stables, perhaps she had been bitten by an insect.

Then one night when she had just finished brushing her hair before going to bed she noticed the tingling numbness in her fingers and feet.

It started slowly, like tiny ants crawling over her skin, not painful but the recognition was and she could feel her heart drop.

Though it wasn’t herself she feared for.

Baldwin let his best physicians be called to their shared chambers immediately.

After the three men had taken a look at her, whispering in a foreign language with their eyes drooped with worry and told them how deeply sorry they were the young king wished for his instant death.

He had always had a hard time being kind to himself, never to others but the wave of agony that rolled over him threatened to swallow him whole, burning like a demonic fury.

Her own eyes brimmed with tears and she sat up after the physicians had left, so frightened for her husband who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his masked face buried in his hands with his shoulders trembling.

There was no use denying that she had caught the disease.

It was only a matter of time, she is playing with fire, others had whispered behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening.

“Baldwin..” crawling up on the bed right behind him she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

The gesture that had comforted him even in his worst moments now seemed to shatter his heart even more so.

“I have been so foolish..my beautiful, beautiful angel” he whispered, his voice dying in his throat and when he raised his head his eyes were flooded with tears.

He was trembling as he spoke and she was frightened as he nearly seemed mad with grief.

“You should have never come here..I should have never asked anyone, you, to put themselves in danger for my foolishness. If the Lord wants to punish me so be it but why would he wish to punish you of all people? When it was I who was selfish?”

She only noticed that she too was crying when she tasted the salt on her lips, wiping it with shaking fingers.

“Do not say such things..you are not selfish, nor foolish. It was I who made the decision to accept the offer to marry you with the pain and dangers that I was warned of. And I swear to you that even now I do not regret our vows, a single day or night we spent together”

Reaching out for him he cupped his cheek, a pained smile gracing her features in the soft candle light of his chambers.

“Please do not blame yourself my love. I am not scared of my fate but I am scared of losing you, whether it be to grief or shame. I beg of you, don’t leave me now”

There had never been a moment where Baldwin had to fight against contempt for himself as in this very moment.

He disdained himself for causing her to share his fate when he should have been the one to be level headed, keeping a distance for her own safety when in reality he was the one searching for her warmth like a frightened little boy.

Now there was no use avoiding her, he recognised with bitterness seeping like pus from an open wound.

Now it was too late, the die had been cast but all words of comfort, an apology he could have offered her seemed to be worthless now and he knew this sweet, innocent girl would not hear it.

How wonderfully stubborn she could be sometimes, with too much love to give and headstrong to a point where it was almost unbecoming for a woman but he wouldn’t have it any differently.

“Come now” she murmured, shuffling on the bed to slip underneath the covers.

The silken sheets were cool against her skin and a part of her wondered for how long she would be able to feel them at all.

She pulled him in as she did every night since they had exchanged their vows, his head resting against her shoulder and she caressed his soft hair soothingly.

“The promise of God is not that He will never give us more weight than we want to carry. The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear.”

Her voice was so soft as she spoke, without a tremor and she was not scared anymore.

Not for herself nor for him, not when God was watching over them, not when her love for him burned stronger than ever and she could feel his heart beating, so alive and warm in his chest.

“Let us not waste the precious time we have..not a second”

This was something the young king could not disagree with and how eager he was for her comfort if that meant to comfort her.

Now he had to be strong for her sake when she needed him now more than ever before, and she was right.

The promise of God is that He will never put more on us than we can bear, no matter how heavy the burden can be in the darkest times.

He shuddered when he felt her gentle fingers sliding the silver mask off his face as she had done many times before but something about it now felt different.

His eyes were wide, still glossy and red, his face scarred severely but she could only see the man she loved more than anyone or anything.

They looked at each other for what felt like hours, the fingers of one hand entwined, the other on each others cheek, stroking over skin, gently brushing a strand of hair behind one’s ear.

She was the one to lean in first and to him the feeling of her soft lips on his, for the first time ever felt like he was being reborn.

The kiss was clumsy with inexperience but it could not have been more raw and honest.

She kissed him like she didn’t care about his disfigured lips and he kissed her like it was the last thing he would ever do.

Both of them kissed like they had been starving for this and now there was nothing left to lose and by the end of the kiss both of them were crying.

A soft sob rose in his chest, fading into a huffed out laugh and he seemed drunk with fondness for her.

She only smiled, wiping his tears as he wiped hers before leaning in again to kiss her warm, soft lips once more with more urgency this time, in disbelief that he would get to experience something like this after all.

Something that made him feel less alone, more like any normal young man instead.

A wave of warmth flooded him when he felt a small, soft hand slip underneath his nightgown, resting on his bare stomach and when he pulled away from the kiss, his cheeks flushed he recognised the desire in her eyes.

Honest and playful as she was and despite his nervously racing heart he gave her the most timid nod.

There was no fear within either of them now, uncertainty perhaps and pain surely, worry about what the future might bring but they had each other after all.

Each other and a life time left to love, however long that might be.

[unicornbeck]

I want to know when, and why, Aziraphale took the name Fell. It feels to me like he took it out of guilt, or shame, and I think he did it because of, or for, Crowley.

Is the reason for the name, which I feel must be self-imposed, chosen, the same as the reason why the other angels all scorn him so?

Did our angel take this name for himself because he feels guilty? Because he feels he ought to have Fallen too? Because he secretly feels he did?

The popular consensus has been that “AZ Fell” sounds like “Aziraphale.” But writers, like demons, lie, and I think it means something more. It’s also worth the question: how far did Aziraphale fall? Did he fall from Archangel Raphael to Principality Aziraphale? Was his a fall from political power but not wholly from Grace? Is the AZ missing the “R” sound from his name as a clue that he lost his “R” name completely?

Aziraphale’s wings are white. He has never (yet) lost his faith in Her. Crowley’s Fall was away from Her. His wings darkened as he ceased to trust, fell into shadow as stepped away from Her light.

Aziraphale does not, yet, acknowledge the difference between Heaven, the political bureaucracy, and God, in whom his faith resides. But there clearly is one, as he has never Fallen… his wings are white, though he disagrees with all of Her bureaucratic agents.

Did She stop speaking to everyone because they developed free will, or in order to allow them that choice? The last time we hear Her voice speaking to Aziraphale, he lies to Her. Free will established. This is the same God who put the Tree of Knowledge of the Good and the Bad in the Garden. Who deliberately gave humans the choice— and they took it.

All of these choices are so important. Remember that Good Omens itself is a fanfic of The Bible. It’s already meta. So. Why does Aziraphale label himself fallen? Does he believe he is Fallen? Is it as much solidarity as he can display with Crowley? Is it guilt? Something else?

Did he take the name Aziraphale by choice in memorial to Raphael? Was he Raphael? Was Crowley? (Again, authors lie.) It feels too much like (gasp) A Clue. 💗

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Blood of Eden

|Lucifer!Aemond Targaryen x Eve!Reader|

Short Story

Masterlist of Works

Summary: Life in Eden was perfect. You lived in harmony with your husband, Adam, and all other creatures. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates, forever protected by the angels and God's love. Until one day, when you stood at the roots of the Tree of Knowledge, a serpent appeared before you. Its green body blended into the grass beneath your feet, and its amber eyes locked onto yours as it spoke words that would lead you astray and down a path of sin.

Author's Note: Let's start with this idea being unoriginal. There have been a million different retellings of the fall of Adam and Eve in fanfiction. However, I did put a lot of original thoughts into it and gave it a spin of my own. I'm not religious at all, though I was raised Methodist in a very rural and religious state. I really don't care if anyone is offended by what I wrote because what I wrote is not really about God but more so about the expectations of women, abandonment of those who claim to love you, and blind faith. It's not only applicable to religion but to everyday life with the government and other people in positions of authority in your life. With all that being said, just enjoy this for what it is... raunchy smut.

Warnings: sexism, misogyny, noncon bordering onto rape, sacrilege, religious guilt, manipulation, breeding kink (kinda?), Aemond feasts like it's the last supper, it's literally a fanfic retelling of Adam and Eve.

Word Count: 9.6k

Also, I recommend you listen to the song The Devil Is Human by Aurora or The Fruits by Paris Paloma. Both are applicable.

In the beginning, God created heaven and the Earth. The Earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw the light as good and divided the light from the darkness.

And he was there. There, beside the Lord with the rest of his brothers and sisters, he watched his God create life as he knew it.

They called him another name then and spoke of him differently, filling him with such fury and vengeance in memory. He was no longer Aemond, the morning star, God's favorite angel in his host. He was the vilest of beings, cast down into the depths of Hell with all others who followed him in punishment for his defiance against his Lord.

They said Lucifer was vain. That Satan fell from the heavens due to his great pride in his perfection, but that was untrue. There was more to the tale than just the folly of pride, than just the wickedness that so poisoned his heart against God.

Aemond believed in knowledge and free will. He disagreed with God's authoritarian control of the creatures he architected. God's creations had no control over their lives, set mindlessly on his chosen path. He kept hidden the knowledge of the Earth and psyche and all it had to give. Aemond believed he had no right to do so, for a life in blind ignorance was none at all.

He first poisoned the creature they called Adam with the emotion of loneliness despite the lush greenery and breathing life surrounding him. Then, he gathered all his fellow angels who shared his belief to rebel against their Lord. God knew that Aemond stirred the mind of his creation, Adam, and cut out his eye as he cast him and all who agreed with the now Satan below the Earth as punishment. Aemond was angered and scorned at the benevolent creator's decision.

From that moment on, he swore he would forever spurn God, devoting his existence to the opposite of his.

As a consequence of Aemond's actions and the intoxication of Adam's mind with thoughts of loneliness, God created another being. A companion to the man, derived from his rib, called woman, and her name was Eve.

Eve was beautiful. She was more beautiful than Aemond before his eye was stolen, and God doted on her with an intensity Aemond felt was purposeful. He grew mad with envy at the realization. What kind of Father would do such a thing to his son? How dare he? A benign God created a being more beautiful than the one cast out for it.

Satan was furious. He was enraged at God and the woman Eve. He spent all his days attempting to corrupt the innocent woman in their perfect Garden of Eden as retaliation.

It was a bothersome task. Eve was quite loyal to her God and her husband, Adam, for they were connected, and God's love was too strong to penetrate. Until one day, when Satan spied on the Lord and his children, hidden as a serpent within the lush green grass, and God told them there was one rule, the only sin they could commit.

The Tree of Knowledge. Its Fruit was golden, juicy, and ripe, begging the beings to sink their teeth into its soft flesh, but they could not, for their Lord forbade it.

Satan knew then that he had found a weakness within the perfect creatures and set out to exploit their flaw.

Life within Eden was joyful. You wanted for nothing and asked for nothing because God provided. You lived in harmony with your husband and all other living creatures. The lions resided in peace with the gazelles, the crocodiles on the shores with the zebras, and the wolves with the sheep. Everything worked per God's will. Worry was not a thought within your mind. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates of Eden, forever protected by the angels and your Lord's love.

God instructed you and Adam a few commands to follow within the Garden. One, you must serve your husband, for you are an extension of him, and second, you must never eat from the Tree of Knowledge. They were simple guidelines to follow.

You catered to your husband's every wish, ensuring he desired naught as you did. When Adam's mouth dried, you quenched his thirst from the babbling brooks. When his stomach rumbled with hunger, you satisfied him with the food from the Earth. It was what you desired, what gave you fulfillment and great happiness to serve your husband, as was God's will.

You were content in the Garden of Eden, yet one thought hung within your mind. It was only a whisper at first, the slight rustle of the breeze commanding one thing, and you busied yourself within the Lord's expectations in response. But it grew stronger until you could no longer ignore it and found yourself staring at the hanging aureate Fruit at the foot of the Tree.

You confided in Adam as to your troubles, but he dismissed you.

"Do not worry your little head about such things, dear Eve. God has a plan for us all and will not lead you into temptation."

You trusted him, just as you trusted the Father, but you soon forgot your once limitless bliss. More often than not, you would wake at the roots of the forbidden Tree with no recollection of how you got there, suddenly awoken, as if from a trance to the tale end of a deep timbre at the shell of your ear, demanding that you take one bite.

You prayed. You prayed, and you prayed, and you prayed until God finally deigned his presence to you, answering your pleas. In him, you confided your doubts of the memory lapses that brought you such agony until tears flowed from your eyes.

"Do you not have trust in me that I will protect you from your sins?"

"No, Father!" you exclaimed, quickly resending the words in error. "Yes, Father, of course I trust you."

"Then you must worry naught, sweet Eve, for you are a creation of me and my will. You must have trust in your devotion and obey my commands no matter the temptation."

You merely nodded at his words, an uneasy feeling churning in the pit of your stomach.

It was your fault, you soon realized, for not praying enough, for spending too much time caring for your own needs and not God's and Adam's. So, without hesitation, you threw yourself into the Lord's commands. You put your faith in him more than before and focused your time on God when not spent with your husband.

But it did not work.

You no longer felt the same joy when serving Adam and the Father; the fulfillment was replaced with bitterness and resentment for those you catered to for not helping you in your time of need. Thoughts of what would happen should you eat the Forbidden Fruit rattled in your head, infecting you with doubts as to what God's motives were in keeping you from it.

One day, when the sun was shining as it always did, warming your skin and filling the air with something sweet and floral, a serpent, greener and brightly scaled than you had ever seen, came slithering down the brown bark of the Tree of Knowledge.

You grinned at the creature, delighted to have the company of one of God's creations as you grasped it, allowing it to slide across your arms and legs until it wrapped around your torso, head resting between the mounds of flesh on your chest. Its pink, forked tongue tickled the sensitive skin there, causing giggles as it ventured further up until its emerald body wound around your neck and shoulders, smooth scales caressing the skin.

"Did God say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" asked the serpent, and you were startled.

No animal had ever spoken to you before, and it sent a jolt of surprise through your limbs at something so foreign and unusual within your serene garden.

"We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, we must not eat fruit from the one that is in the middle of it, and we must not touch it, or we will die," you answered thoughtfully, a smile on your face as the snake's tongue tickled the shell of your ear.

You attempted to pull it away, slightly uncomfortable but still joyful with how close it was to your face, but the animal only swirled around your countenance and into your hair and nestled on the opposite side.

"You will not certainly die," the serpent said to you, voice sure. "For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like him, knowing good and evil."

Gazing at the Fruit, then back to the slit, amber eyes of the snake, you faltered. Undoubtedly, the Lord would never bar you from something like this. He loved you. You and Adam were his creations. He would never keep you from something good for you. Why would God lie if the serpent's words were valid?

"There is much wonder ahead of you, little Eve. All you must do is only take one bite."

His words were convincing, poisoning your already tainted mind into disobeying God's commands. Still, you shook your head, trying to pry the snake off, but it only slithered down your body, nestling between the flesh of your legs, small head resting on the thatch of dark hair as it peered up at you.

"No, snake," you declared with defiance, brows furrowed and plump lips pouted. "He said we would die. Why would God lie to us? He loves us!"

Aemond thought you looked so beautiful then, even more beautiful than himself with the ethereal glow that radiated from your form, but he swiftly pushed the notion aside.

"Because, if you eat the Fruit in which he commanded you not to, your eyes will be opened for what the world is. You'll understand right from wrong. You will be like him," the snake whispered, his forked tongue flicking with every sentence. "If God truly loved you, he wouldn't keep all this knowledge to himself."

Aemond could see the defiance slowly leave your expression, considering what he declared the truth. "He'll never know, little lamb. I shall never tell him. You have my word." He knew you needed one more push, the correct phrases to convince you to commit the only sin you could. "You deserve to understand. You deserve to be free from the self-sacrificing chains that bind you."

Aemond moved his scaly body from yours, sliding within the knee-high grass and into the Tree. He bit into the flesh of the Fruit as he turned to your uncertain form. He swallowed the chunk into his throat, the juice sliding down his fangs as his amber eyes stared into your wide ones.

Trepidation began to leave your mind, taking a tentative step forward as you saw that the serpent did not perish. The snake took another bite, wrapping its veridian tail around a winding branch, holding the piece out, wordlessly telling you to have a taste. You inhaled a shaky breath, an emotion you had never experienced before warming your gut and the place betwixt your thighs as you leaned, taking the golden fruit from it with your teeth.

The sweet flavor washed over your tongue, some juice dribbling past your lips and sliding down your chin as your eyes shut. You felt your mind become free, a moan breaking from the confines of your chest. Opening your eyes, the Fruit slid down your throat and settled into your stomach as you gazed at the world around you.

Suddenly, you understood everything.

Why water fell from the sky, why the grass grew, why the day always followed the night, why God told you never to eat the Fruit. You did not become his omnipotent equal as the serpent claimed. You became knowledgeable. You could comprehend the vast questions of the universe that the only answer you were told was God. You now had the free will to choose what you thought and what you did. You could decide who and what you worshiped.

God could no longer control you, so he forbade you from eating the Fruits on the Tree of Knowledge.

The snake was no longer in its place; instead stood a man with features not of this world. He adorned a crown of silver longer than your own, a pale stomach chiseled and defined with muscles and scars, a light dusting of hair trailing down to where his manhood was covered with weaved fig leaves. A long, pink scar sliced the left side of his face, the socket in which his eye should be a bright blue sapphire gem complimenting the near obsidian of the other.

Abruptly, you realized you were naked in front of an unknown man, quickly covering your breasts with your arms as he only observed.

"Who-" you stuttered, warmth filling your cheeks, "who are you?"

The man smirked, the grin pulling at his cheeks in a malicious, knowing manner that sent chills down your spine. "He never told you, did he?" the man questioned with the proud quirk of his brow, stepping closer to your trembling form. "I am called many names, sweet lamb. Satan, Lucifer, Devil, the Morning Star, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Iblis, the Father of Lies, and much more, but you," he answered, his now single tongue licking his white teeth, "may call me Aemond."

Your lungs shuttered, legs threatening to give out as he stood nearly a hair's breadth away. You extended an arm out, preventing him from coming closer, palm touching the smooth planes of his abdomen as you cowered under his dark gaze.

"Please, do not come any closer. I am ashamed," you implored, voice quivering as tears collected at the brim of your lashes.

"What for, little lamb? Are you now feeling the shame of having disobeyed your God, now knowing he will never love you again?" You tasted the briny water on your tongue before you felt them, whimpering and flinching as Aemond brought his thumb to your cheek, stroking the tears that clumped your lashes. "I shall love you, Eve, more than your God ever could."

A scream scratched your throat as Satan's hands grabbed your waist, fingers digging into the soft skin until you were sure they would burrow through, your bare breasts touching his sculpted chest.

"You-you tricked me!" you sobbed, head moving far away from him as he licked a stripe of saltwater on your temple, groaning at the erotic taste.

"Tricked you?" he guffawed, snatching your hair. "No, sweet lamb, I saved you."

"No! No! You said I would be as God! You lied to me!" Words poured from your lips like the tears from your eyes, choking you with their excess wetness. How could you have been so foolish as to believe a talking snake? The Lord was above all and only cared for you. He provided all that you needed, yet you still gave into temptation.

"Is it power that you desire, my ignorant lamb?" he questioned, a smirk pulling at his thin, pink lips. "Do not fret, for I shall give you all that you desire and more."

Aemond's mouth slotted with yours, spearing his tongue into the wetness and exploring the soft flesh your lips kept hidden. You struggled against him in vain, nails clawing at his chest and face until they left red welts on his porcelain skin. He merely chuckled against you, grinning into the kiss as his knee made it home between your legs. You vehemently shook your skull, attempting to break from his vice-like grip on your hair.

You now understood where this was going as Aemond released you with a sickening pop only when he decided you had enough.

"Stop. I do not want this," you protested, pulling your face away from his against the force of his hand.

"But, dear Eve, you are positively wet down there. It would be a sin to leave it untouched." You could sense Aemond's grin against your skin, his lips trailing down your jaw and onto the sensitive skin of your neck, inhaling the aromatic scent of your flesh.

It had been millennia since he last had the taste of sex. He spent all that time either within the solitude of his own making or that of his fellow fallen angels. He knew that those times would not be as fulfilling as now, and a part of Aemond, deep within himself, understood that he would never wish to live without it again.

He left damp patches in his wake, unceasing in his movements until he reached the tender globe of your breast, wrapping his lips around the pert nipple and suckling like a child. The jolt of pleasure that wracked through your body was paralyzing, causing you to momentarily drop your defenses as he forced you into the tall grass below. Aemond's body weight trapped you under him, feeling every ridge and curve of his body on your own. His manhood poked at your thigh, thumping in time to the beat of your erratic heart.

"Please, have mercy on me," you cried into the heavens, hearing nothing but Satan's heavy breathing on your bosom as he moved to the other, fingers snaking down to toy at the place between your legs. "Do not touch me there! That is a place for my husband only!"

Aemond grunted, the sound vibrating your chest as he unlatched with a half-lidded expression. "And who told you that, little lamb? Your God? The same God who kept you from all the world has to offer?"

You couldn't deny his words, gazing away from the beast before you. Aemond's arms wound themselves around your legs, keeping you at his mercy as he brought your womanhood onto his watering mouth. You shuddered uncontrollably with every lick he placed onto your throbbing core, unable to silence the high-pitched mewls that escaped your throat at the actions.

His tongue was so warm and soft, involuntarily making your muscles relax in his embrace as he lapped at your folds, moldable lips curling around the bud at the top to lav it in particular attention. It felt so good you could not help but buck your hips into him, curling your digits into his hair and back arching as the wet muscle slid into your entrance. Aemond's tongue caressed your insides with the tenderness of a butterfly's kiss, stroking along a rough patch that had you seeing the stars above.

You were unsure of what came over you. The only thought in your mind and nerves being more, more, more as your movements became greedy. You ground your womanhood onto his face and shoved his nose further into you, the bridge of it providing delicious friction onto your bud. You did not care if he could breathe. It felt like a beast had possessed you, puppeteering your movements with only one goal.

Release.

You grew impervious if God or Adam heard your cries of pleasure, knowing only of the Devil betwixt your thighs that now suckled your bud as if it were your breast, causing your heels to dig into the soft soil. At this moment, you did not regret taking a bite from the Forbidden Fruit. It brought you the knowledge of ecstasy you had no idea existed. If all sins brought you the promise of this pleasure, then you would gladly and unthinkingly commit them.

A fist formed within your stomach, tensing your gut as Aemond opened his jaw wider to incorporate all of your meat into his mouth, swallowing your juices as he did to the Fruit.

He knew he had you hooked, his cock thudding painfully with arousal as he rutted in the dirt. This was just as gratifying for him as it was for you. Not only did he have the satisfaction of corrupting God's favorite in the Garden of his creation, but he also had her begging and wanton within the palm of his hand, ripe for the taking. Aemond understood there was only one last thing he must do before he could finally destroy God's most precious creation.

He knew you were close. You only needed one more push, as you did before, to finally fall off the edge so you could become his in sin. He doubled his efforts, slurping obscenely at your puffy cunt until it nearly drowned out your moans.

You couldn't breathe, your breath coming out in pants as your legs clamped down on Aemond's perfect silver head, shrieking into the skies as you felt your first peak crash into you. Wave after wave hit your body as never before, tears leaking onto your temples as your back arched in ecstasy. It felt like honey had been poured into your veins, leaking onto Aemond's face as you spasmed around him.

His thumbs delicately stroked the skin of your thighs as you became lax against him, body trembling. A smirk wound its way onto his lips as he let you go, licking your release from his lips as he eyed your drooling cunt. It was simply begging to be filled, the hole weeping for him to enter as he situated his legs under yours, settling on his haunches and tearing the fig leaves from his groin.

You were too blissed out to comprehend the happenings around you, head lulled to the side and eyes shut as he parted your glistening folds with his thumbs. Finally, you looked down at Aemond's ruddy cockhead kissing your entrance. Long-forgotten fear suddenly filled your chest, replacing the pleasure you had found before.

You did not want him to take you. While you had gone against your husband and God with his mouth on your flesh, you did not desire for your virtue to be stolen by him. It was still Adam's right to do so, and you quickly squirmed beneath him, attempting to slide your back along the flattened grass. Aemond grunted in admonishment, pulling your hips back to his own as he locked them around his waist.

"You run from me still," he stated more than asked with a curious tilt of his head. If you had not known better, you would've sensed the slight hurt laced under the bass of his voice. "There is nowhere for you to go, sweet Eve. Your God will not possibly love you after what you have committed here."

Tears, not from pleasure, welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. His face was impassive, concentrating on lining his cock with your virginal hole. When Aemond finally breached the tight entrance, your cries were heard in the heavens, causing the unseen eyes of God to search for you.

It hurt, impossibly so, and the pain did not stay within the assaulted area, traveling through your walls and down to the tips of your toes. You sobbed uncontrollably, vision blurred from agony and tears as he tore through you to the hilt.

"Oh, God, please," you blubbered, unable to withhold your sobs of torment any longer. "Please, have mercy, I beg of you."

"Does it hurt?" Aemond asked saccharine, disregarding your pain with a mock tenderness in his tone. You nodded, weakly pushing at his pelvis as another stretch of pain speared you. "Do not worry. It shall only last for a moment. It will be nothing compared to the hundreds I have spent locked away within the depths of Hell, cast out as no longer one of God's favorites."

You whimpered, tears leaking from your eyes and muddying the ground below. You felt a dampness between your legs, different from the previous sensation, and trained your gaze onto Aemond's manhood. Blood covered his shaft and porcelain thighs, smearing the viscous liquid across his pelvis and staining the light dusting of hair there red.

Aemond wanted this to be painful for you-wanted you to feel every ounce of heart-wrenching agony he felt when his Father cast him out of the heavens. It was the closest he could get to hurting the one he desired.

"Please, stop," you choked, attempting in vain to free yourself once more. "It's too much. I-I cannot take it." You felt your head become full, a disorientating wave rolling through your mind as your vision darkened.

Aemond did not let you stay in that unfeeling state for long, moving his digits to rub circles over your swollen bud and sparking your body back to life with a drawn-out whine. He could not have you unconscious for this. He wanted you to feel everything-every shiver that ran up your spine, every touch of his skin on yours, every begrudging clench of your suffocating walls around his girth as he rutted into you.

Soon, that familiar tingle within your stomach began to grow, causing a wet clicking sound to emanate from your womanhood and a creamy, white ring to form around the base of his cock. The shame mixed with slowly rising high fogged your brain, unable to focus on anything other than the moist slap, slap, slap of Aemond's hips against yours.

You could no longer stand the sight of his sculpted body above yours, sun rays shining behind his silver hair in a juxtaposing halo as you turned your vision to the swaying blades of grass beside you. He cooed tenderly at your disgrace, bow lips forming a mock pout and grabbing your jaw to return your misty eyes to his.

"So pretty. Prettier than me," Aemond murmured to himself rather than you, cheeks squished underneath the pressure of his digits. "God did well with you, I am loathed to confess."

You struggled to remove your face from his grip, his fingers digging in meanly in response to your resistance as pleasure mounted with every kiss of his head to your sweet spot. Hiccuping in time with his thrusts, you sobbed, eyes rolling into their sockets as Aemond continued to swirl your abused nub until more wetness was released from inside.

"Poor thing," he purred, an uneasy grin wrinkling the blushed scar on his face. "Sweet little lamb, there is no use resisting the evils of this world. Give in to me once more, and you shall be free from all that ails you. Free from a God who does not love you... not like I can."

You tried to deny his words, refuting his claims internally with a shake of your head. God's love was unyielding; it was more bountiful than the fruits and vegetables in the Garden of Eden. Satan could not possibly love you more than him-accept you more than your creator did. He was a liar. Aemond was a snake. He deceived you once before, and he was doing it again.

Only God could love you unconditionally for who you were, sins and all. You trusted that he would see your innocence in all this and allow you a chance of forgiveness. He would absolve you of your transgressions here today, for he was a benevolent being who understood you were the victim of Satan's trickery.

That was the only fact in which consoled you enough for your walls to finally release, gushing your second peak all over Aemond's glistening, scarlet cock. It enveloped you in rapture, causing you to shriek and uncontrollably quiver as it ran through your bones like the stampede of wild horses that frolicked in the Garden.

Aemond sang your praises from above, reminding you of the hymns the angels recited as his movements became rougher, more frantic as if to chase something. It prolonged your high just that much longer, and you were powerless to hold still with the animalistic positioning of his hips, both fists burrowing into your waist as his strength rubbed your back raw on the flattened foliage.

Aemond came with a shuddering growl, thrusting into you to extend his peak to the fullest. "Yes, take it. Fucking take my seed and give me my army like the good little lamb you are."

Your limbs twitched as the aftershocks of your release wore through you, his words lost on your ears. Mind numb and form pliant his movements slowed, noiseless groans rumbling the hollow of Aemond's chest. He had not felt this fulfilled since the day he was constructed, observing the pearly liquid leak from your overfilled cunt as he parted your folds with his thumbs.

You indeed were a sight to behold, and although he abhorred the notion, he believed you were God's most extraordinary conception, above even that of himself. His pride would never allow him to admit such a thing aloud, and he was content with the idea that no one but himself would ever know of it.

Aemond pulled out of your abused heat with a squelch and a quiet whimper from you, observing his seed as it ran to the ground below. He had planted in more ways than one and was content with the thought as he slipped into the shadows of his serpentine form. Still there as before, always watching yet unseen with a grin crinkling the corners of his vision.

His exit went unnoticed by you, too blissed to realize he had abandoned you despite your fragile state. Your chest heaved as you regained your breath, wiping away the sweat at the back of your brow as you slowly return your gaze to between your legs, finally understanding that Aemond was no longer within your presence. It caused a sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach, a frown adorning your once glowing features as you looked to the uninhabited Garden, confusion furrowing your brow.

Why had Aemond abandoned you? Had you done something wrong?

You could not help the feeling of loneliness that crept up your body, caging you within its dark claws. Releasing a shuddering breath, you sniffled, steeling your will as you attempted to stand, seeking the physical and spiritual comfort that only Adam and God could provide. A sharp, burning sensation radiated from your womanhood and caused you to crumble to your knees. You did not withhold your tears as they stung your eyes, wincing in great pain as you tried to stand once more, only to fail.

The sound of the softly crunching grass perked your ears, revealing that you were soon not alone. Hastily, you hid behind a tree, its tall trunk obscuring your naked body from the visitor.

"Where are you?" the voice of God called out, searching for his beloved creation. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mouth becoming dry as anxiety cinched your heart.

The air no longer held its same warmth, filling you with unease.

"Here, my Lord," you answered shakily, voice softer than the breeze that swept through your locks as you poked your head from behind the tree.

"Why are you hiding?" he asked kindly, and with no hint that he knew what you had done, the smell of incense wafting into your nose.

"I heard you in the Garden, and I was afraid because I was naked," you responded demurely, eye focused on the ground below, "so I hid."

God's silence scared you enough to bring your tearful gaze to his, body shrinking into itself as he observed you. "Who told you that you were naked? Have you ate from the Tree in which I commanded you not to?"

You did not answer him right away, inhaling a shaky breath of aromatic wind as you hugged your arms closer to your body. Shame filled you to your core, having lost the confidence in God's forgiveness now that you were met face to face.

"The serpent deceived me, and I ate," you cried, falling at his bare feet in humiliation. "I fell into temptation and disobeyed your command. Please, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned in the only way you told me not to!" you begged, hands clasped into a fist, uncaring of your bare form before his eyes.

God no longer looked at you with the same love and adoration as you were accustomed to, eyes now filled with fury and hate you never knew him capable of. He turned away from you, vision trained on something within the lush, knee-high grass you could not see.

"Because you have done this, cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly, and you will eat dust all the days of your life!" he raged at the emerald serpent, who only stared at him with unblinking, slanted, amber eyes.

So Aemond had not abandoned you, you realized fleetingly, a flame of hope and gratitude flickering in your chest before God turned to you again.

"I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor, you will give birth to children. Adam shall not receive the punishment I bestow upon you, and your desire will be for your husband, who will rule over you," he seethed, index finger pointing accusingly. "Cursed is the ground because of you! Through painful toil, you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow, you will consume your food until you return to the ground since you were taken from it!"

You wailed, helplessly so, crumbling on your knees before God as you prayed the forgiveness he claimed his love rought but received none. "For dust you are, and to dust you will return," he declared, a roar of thunder clapping through the sky despite the blue of it as he vanished as quickly as he came.

You collapsed on all fours, digging your fingers into the soil, sod sticking under your nails as you sobbed. Cries of despair shook your body, clawing your throat raw as your tears watered the grass below.

God had abandoned you when you needed him most. He scorned you as blood stained your thighs and bruises littered your skin. You felt hopeless-helpless in your isolation that combined with bitterness in your broken heart.

What kind of God disregarded those who worshiped the ground he walked on? You devoted your existence to glorifying him, you put your undying trust into him, and when you needed him most, he punished you. This was his fault.

You confided your troubles to the Father, who dismissed you, blaming you for your plights and saying that the only solution would be sacrificing more of yourself until nothing was left. And you listened ignorantly. You followed the shepherd God like the lamb Satan claimed you to be, and this is where he left you. Alone with only the sounds of chirping birds and crickets with the scent of mud clinging to your flesh.

Fury scratched its way out of your soul as you screamed, pounding your fists again and again and again into the dampened sod until you left impactions in your wake. You mourned for the loss of the life you once knew, now replaced with hardship and permanent subservience to your already king husband.

You hated Adam for dismissing you. You hated God for condemning you. An inferno of emotions you had never felt burned at your insides, charring them until nothing was left but blackened rot.

You felt the familiar smooth scales of a snake wind itself across your torso in an almost comforting manner, slithering down your arm and raising gooseflesh before you quickly snatched it by the hinge of its jaw.

You stared into the tan color of its iris, your tears drying and cracking your cheeks. "I should kill you," you spat, meanly pinching the vertebrae behind the serpent's glimmering green head.

"Do it, little lamb. Kill me," he hissed, a challenging gleam in his beady stare. He knew you could not do it just as you did, but it did not quell the anger in your heart.

You glared at Aemond in rage, eyes puffy and red as your chin trembled. The idea ran through your head as if it happened before you, smashing his small arrow-shaped skull with a stone until his bones and brains were mush. It gave you great joy to imagine, envisioning the smell of his coppery blood as it stained the ground as your tears did, yet you did not move. You stared at Aemond, teeth clenched as you observed the rosey flicking of his forked tongue.

"Show yourself to me," you declared, placing his slender body on the ground as your brows set in a firm line.

Slowly, before your eyes, you no longer saw a serpent but a man. The same man who stole your virtue and surrendered you to ensure the wrath of God alone, kneeling in front of you.

"You left me." The words weighed on your tongue like rocks, not fully admitting what you wanted to say due to your pride.

Aemond's gaze flicked over your naked form, taking note of the welts and essence he left behind. "I did," he replied, voice impassive.

You let the silence hang, ire still evident in your expressions as you observed his stoic face. What would ending his life do? While it would give you great pleasure to seek revenge on someone, it would not change God's decision or your fate. It would not make Adam see you as an equal and not a being less than him.

As if Aemond could sense your inner turmoil, he took your shaking hand in his, steadying it with a gentleness you did not know him capable of. It startled you, causing you to flinch, but he held firm. Was this the true Aemond or another side of him? Was he as wicked and cruel as he was when he stole your virtue, or was that simply a response to the same abandonment he felt from the Lord?

Suddenly, you understood him. You were both creatures victim of a callus and vengeful God who only found love in blind obedience-a God who did not want his ultimate authority ever brought into question. He did not like those who did not follow him in unthinking faith. He wanted lambs, not autonomous beings with thoughts and ideals. He desired those who would serve him and his teachings without question, no matter the harm it would do.

You would serve no God or man but yourself.

Swiftly, you shoved Aemond onto his back with a thud, straddling his waist as you pinned his wrists beside his fanned-out silver hair. You gazed into his eyes, a completely black obsidian orb and an expressionless sapphire one staring back, searching for something as you leaned over his sculpted face, your breath fanning across his skin. Slotting your nose with his, you felt a surge of possession overcome you, poking your moist tongue from between your lips and licking a stripe up the raised flesh of his scar.

Aemond shuddered beneath you, his hardening cock stirring to life between your folds. It felt empowering to know that you affected him as much as he did you, and a smile graced your wet mouth at the realization. You removed yourself from him, observing the way his glistening chest heaved, gradually forming a blush to the pale flesh from the heat of your body.

The dried blood and spent coating your thighs flaked annoyingly on your skin, sticking onto Aemond's hips in brittle chunks as a smirk adorned your features. "You ought to clean me up after what you did," you jeered, sliding your palms down his arms. "It is disgraceful to leave the woman you fucked in such a disheveled state."

Aemond watched you in what only could be described as wonder as you brought your womanhood to hover over his visage, hands now digging into your plush waist. His mouth watered at the sight before him, the blood coating your groin, his seed still weeping from your entrance. He was proud to have left his mark on your perfect body, spoiling you against God.

Oh, how you had changed from the sweet, innocent, unknowing little lamb he met you as...

You arched a quizzical brow, lips in a thin line as you waited for Aemond to stop his ogling and give what you asked. "Go on," you urged with the tilt of your head, voice holding a coldness you had never heard.

Aemond did not hesitate, bringing your core to his mouth as warmth spread throughout your body. He followed your commands earnestly, eagerly cleaning the mess as that familiar pleasure sprouted. You had not realized there was a tenseness to your muscles until his tongue forced you to relax, laving the crust of his seed and your essence around your cunt.

The sheer dominance at having the Devil himself betwixt your legs was intoxicating, releasing guttural, wanton moans as his aquiline nose brushed against your throbbing bud. Aemond let out a contented sound at the salty and coppery taste sliding down his throat, believing he had never had such a divine essence in his mouth until now.

"You are God's most vile creation, tricking and tempting innocents into your desires," you snarled, undulating your hips across his mouth. "Now, it is time for me to treat you the same."

You could see your blood staining the area around his mouth and nose, creating the most beautiful, debauched shade of scarlet on his skin as he focused his efforts on the button at the top of your mound. Uncaring whether Aemond could breathe, you dug your fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots as your legs tightened around his head.

He began to lap at your entrance, his spit stinging the raw skin and creating a delicious burn of pain and pleasure as he stroked the rough patch between your walls. You were in control, the vicelike grip around Aemond's skull giving him no choice but to bring you the ecstasy, the thought setting your nerves a light. It filled you with more satisfaction than when he was there previously, having him at your mercy. You were his God now. He worshiped your cunt as you did the Lord every moment of your life.

Removing your fingers from Ameond's hair, you intertwined them with yours, guiding them to your neglected breasts as you continued to grind against his face. He pinched and flicked your nipples taught, sending jolts of bliss through your veins and straight to your aching cunt.

The musky scent of sweat and bodies hung in the once-floral environment, infecting the air with your shared sins. Aemond's darkness infiltrated your head, the toxic sludge poisoning your mind further into wanting things only the most despicable creatures desired. You hoped for Adam to happen upon you both, to see what he was missing under God's thumb, to have him realize that you were not less than simply because the Lord told him so.

The same knot as before wound inside your stomach, your body trembling and tensing all over as Aemond's fists left your soft breasts and landed on your hips, pushing your core further onto his mouth. Your muscles went slack at the intensity of his movements, leaning back and balancing your weight on your palms on both sides of him.

Aemond's cock flickered at the edge of your vision, a ruddy and almost angry-looking head weeping a pearlescent liquid. You had not seen his cock in its full glory until now, bluish veins running along the underside of his long, flesh-colored shaft as it twitched with every flick of his tongue.

The sight made your mouth water, wishing to take him as he did you, but could not from this angle. You instead held a shaking arm out, grasping his member in your delicate hand. Aemond's hips bucked in response, surprise covering his chiseled, angelic features, focus unfaltering. You pumped him experimentally a few times, observing which strokes and squeezes made his toes curl and legs bend.

You eventually discovered a pace and grip that had him moaning into your core, sending a gratifying vibration through you, watching as Aemond's slit leaked more milky liquid, nearly disappearing under the blanket of his blushed foreskin. His ministrations plucked at the knotted threads one by one, leading you closer and closer to your release before you stopped yourself short, lungs stuttering at the loss of ecstasy.

Hastily, you removed your cunt from his mouth, his lips and tongue chasing after it in want. You smiled at the slight frown on his glistening lips, placing your womanhood on the throbbing heat of his cock and leisurely grinding your hips against him. Aemond groaned throatily into himself, attempting to stifle it with a thrust, palms finding themselves back on your waist to assist.

"Put it in you," he demanded, voice hoarse as his hips rolled with yours. While he wanted to give you the lead, he could only take so much, perspiration dampening his brow and testing his patience.

You ceased your movements, roughly snatching his cock in a brutal ironclad grip and gracing a reprimanding slap to his cheek as punishment for his demands. "You shall not command me," you growled, harshly stroking the smooth flesh until he hissed in discomfort. "No longer shall I wait hand and foot on men or follow those in blind faith. I will serve only myself for I am my own creation."

Aemond could not hide his lopsided smirk at your words, pride filling his chest. His plans had come to fruition. He caused God's favorite daughter to go astray and see him for what he was. Finally, another being in the vast cosmos understood his pain. It bound you to him, a realization you were gradually accepting.

"I am the neglected child that burns the village down to feel its warmth. I will spurn God and all men he creates," you hissed, positioning your hips above his cock with agonizingly slow movement.

Yes, Aemond thought. Yes, yes, yes, succumb to your dark desires.

"I will sow the seed of doubt and sin with the fruits of my labors. My children will infect their minds and bodies, inspire animosity and harm to others. They shall start wars and believe in gods that are not true," you declared, the heat of your rage warming Aemond's cold heart.

You slid him inside, your walls choking his cock with a profound sigh. He stretched you deliciously, the hurt a welcomed feeling as his head reached so far inside you felt as if it kissed your womb. You began to slowly work yourself atop him, still unaccustomed to the feeling and letting out noiseless mewls of satisfaction. Aemond's cockhead rubbed at your sweet spot with every undulation, sending webs of pleasure to stick to your bones.

Control was intoxicating, watching Aemond puff and struggle to accept that he was beneath you, helpless but to take the same pleasure he forced on you. You understand now why God kept you from the Tree. No one should have this much authority.

"No longer am I the sheep but now the wolf that kills the herd and the shepherd," you express with a prolonged breath.

Aemond sighed and nodded his head briskly, agreeing to whatever you said so long as you kept him inside your warm cunt. You continued to grind yourself against him; the combination of satisfaction within your body and on the out sent a new wave of slickness from your core. Your bud tantalizingly rubbed the firm muscle of Aemond's pubic mound, the hairs adding a different texture that spread a great heat underneath your skin.

"I will supply you an army of my blood and your seed. We shall wreak vengeance on God. He will know the pain he has caused ten-fold," you gasped, moving yourself up and down with the muscles of your abdomen and thighs.

Aemond wished for you to go slower, yet faster. The sensation of just laying there, taking it, unable to regain control he had grappled with all his life, was mind-numbing. Your words kindled the flames that licked his gut. The idea of you creating life with your flesh, the unspoken sacrifice of excruciating agony you would willingly put yours through, made him combust, his hot seed sprouting and planting into your walls at an embarrassing speed.

You grinned at the feeling of his spend taking home inside you, having only been riding him for mere moments before he came. It stoked your ego, inflating it into a size that rivaled Aemond's as he whimpered below you, curling into himself. You refused to stop despite his pleas of overstimulation. You had not reached your fulfillment yet, and you had no intention of halting it.

Men like him deserved to suffer, albeit pleasurably. If Aemond meant what he said when he convinced you to eat the Fruit, that you would have the power you subconsciously craved, this would be a consequence. You would push him to the brink of painful ecstasy to ensure your end, as he certainly would for you. It was equality, after all.

"Does it hurt?" you cooed, repeating his words as you leaned over his heaving body, continuing your ministrations. "Now you know how it feels to be so helpless to your body, to the pleasures of the flesh one can give you."

Aemond understood with the voice in the back of his mind that he could easily overwhelm you. Your physical strengths were no match for him, but he wanted you to have a taste of the power beings like him and God possessed.

You stroked the delicate skin of Aemond's visage tenderly, contrasting the intricate movements of your hips as you greedily chased your high. You were smashing your lips against his, creating a mess of teeth and moans as you led his hand down to the apex of your thighs, wordlessly commanding him. Aemond bucked and twitched, unable to control himself as he felt another agonizing release crest at his lower back. If Aemond wanted this torture to be over, he would have to earn it.

Your ethereal glow had vanished, no doubt as punishment for your disobedience, but he did not believe it affected your beauty. You were divine in Aemond's eyes, not only in appearance but in representation. The Lord could create things out of dust, but you, you could make things out of your essence. While God still could raise his creations with love and dominance, they could always reject their Father, for they were made from nothing, but your children could not escape you, their mother's blood. This was a power God would never possess, a strength he had kept hidden from you until Aemond opened your eyes.

You forced his fingers to draw firm, sloppy circles around your swollen bud, groaning as a shudder wracked your body, your release winding right in your stomach. Finally, you removed your mouth from Aemond's, sucking in a ragged breath of air. You felt your peak rising with every swipe of Aemond's digits and every tremble of your legs, chest heaving and sweat dripping down your sternum. Eventually, Aemond's overstimulation gave way to pleasure, helpless and near lightheaded as he attempted to chase the salty droplets on your breasts. He licked and sucked at your nipples, rolling them between his tongue and teeth with every groan.

Finally, you came with an Earth-shattering cry, your walls subconsciously milking Aemond for all his worth as his movements continued on your bud. You shivered and shuddered as your climax seized your muscles, lungs unable to inhale a grounding breath as each wave crashed into you and rattled your bones. He wanted to prolong your high, seeking gratification in your own until he busted, cock once again filling your womb with his seed. He whimpered underneath you, back arching and legs bowing, the sound like the sticky, saccharine honey you licked from your fingers for breakfast every morning.

Collapsing into Aemond's hard chest, you felt his spend leak from your cunt. You had never felt so complete, so unequivocally stuffed and sated, that you felt yourself drift into a plane of the unknown existence. Perhaps this was what heaven felt like? The thought rattled in your brain as you blinked leisurely, gaze fuzzy. Perhaps pleasure like this was what God wanted to protect you from, not autonomy and sentience. Maybe he knew that if you or Adam ate the Forbidden Fruit, your mind and body would be opened to vices of the flesh.

He believed that the Lord purposely kept you blind from this quality of yourself. It was partially the reason why he groomed you to think you were less than him and Adam, for if you knew the true power that was made into the very biological code of your being, you would understand that you and God were equal. There is no influence as powerful as a mother's, and even God could not deny that.

It did not matter now. What was done was done. God abandoned you and condemned you to a life of hardship, subservience, and mental and physical anguish. He left you without a care for your well-being, with blood between your legs and your innocence stolen.

Resentment reignited in your chest, pushing yourself off Aemond with a subdued grunt. He eyed you with a quirked brow, his seeing-eye now a prominent blue matching the sapphire that reflected the sun's rays in a caleidoscope of cerulean across your countenance.

You stood over Aemond's prone form, his arms winding behind his head as he gazed up at you quizzically. You could not help but admire his lithe form, body toned, the muscles of his arms and legs sculpted around his bones, tendons rippling as he stretched lazily. He was the most magnificently shaped being you had ever seen, and Aemond knew it, smirking beside himself as he watched your gaze drift to his softened member.

He suddenly seemed so much more human, the realization flicking a switch inside your mind. Aemond was an angel, yes, God's former morning star, but you did not see him above you anymore. He was no longer Lucifer, Satan, or Mephistopheles, the ruler of Hell, God's fallen attendant. To you, he was simply Aemond, a being that had titles that meant nothing now.

Yet you were no longer just Eve, for that name felt like the title of a dead woman, a woman who was blind, reedy, and ignorant to the reality of what the world had to offer, a woman who lived with blinders on her face until a serpent opened her mind. You would not thank Aemond for doing so. He did not do it out of the goodness of his heart. Just like now, how you vowed to repudiate God's will, you were a part of his plan, though you did not believe he thought it would end in this turn of events.

Aemond smiled above at you, his scar wrinkling as he raised his arm in your direction, an invitation to join him at his side. You stared at his offering with reservation, swallowing a lump you didn't realize had formed. You understood that this action was more than just an invitation to touch, your future weighing heavily in his palm. He was wordlessly giving you the option to turn away from the road ahead, to run back into the comfort of the known and away from the discomfort of the unknown. He placed before you autonomy and control of your fate, and it caused you to pause.

What would life be with the Devil at your side? Would he force you to become his servant as God did? You gave Aemond your body and womb, parts of you that you did not realize you could provide to others, and he used it to further his agenda. Yes, you were enraged that he treated you as a tool, but you knew you could do the same for him as quickly. If not for you, Aemond wouldn't have his army. He would still be stuck in the fire and brimstone below, fuming and plotting the perfect moment for his vengeance.

"I will be your equal, not your disciple." Your voice rang out through the Garden, now smooth and authoritative, reminding you of your vindictive God.

Aemond only smiled. He looked as if he was the one who resided on Earth, and you were the fallen angel, curling his toes and lengthening his torso as he adjusted atop the flattened grass.

"Did I imply you would not be?" he inquired with a raised, lightly colored brow.

You took Aemond's hand in yours, intertwining them together. He was surprisingly warm, tucking you into his side as a noiseless gasp escaped your lips, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. The action sent a shudder down your spine, having never been in a purely soft, intimate position with a man, even Adam, as your body relaxed.

From your blood, you would create the demons of the world. The thoughts inside your fellow human heads that told them to steal that toy from your friend simply because you wanted it. You would never forgive God for what he did. Those who claimed to understand what was best for you-loved you did not punish you with pain and suffering for actions that were not your own.

Your eyes flitted across his toned abdomen, eyes drifting down his stomach and to his fleshy cock, pink and beating with life.

No longer would you be subservient to others; you would raise your children with loving yet gentle hands, allowing them to choose how they conducted their business and protecting them from those who sought harm. Your love would be unyielding and unending, unlike your so-called benevolent God, and then, he would finally see the depths of which the true devotion of love could bring.

Masterlist of Works

Thank you so much for reading, and make sure to leave a comment on what you think!

And now, back to our regularly scheduled fanfics...

May God have mercy on our souls.

[inheartofwinter]

DRARRY FIC REC

Drarry x Fandom

I have made many fic rec lists, almost always at someone's request, although I don't often post them publicly. However, there are fic rec lists I compiled simply because I like a particular troupe. I often keep copies of these lists in the notes in my phone so that I can respond quickly to a request for fic recs. Long story short, the notes pile up and now I need to delete some before I can't find anything anymore. But I don't want to just let those rec lists disappear, so I decided to share them.

The list I want to share with you today is Drarry fics in which fandom plays an important role.

- Draco Potter and the Day the World Ended (G; 3,2k) by gracefully_slytherin

Draco Potter (nee Malfoy) was known for many things.

He was a Death Eater who was acquitted of all his war crimes; he was the first Mind Healer that St. Mungo's had hired; he was the Savior of the Wizarding World's husband; and he was the popular fanfiction author sassysnakeprince on Archive of Our Own.

And life was peaceful until his beloved fanfiction website stopped working overnight. The world, it seemed, had chosen to die that day.

I'm pretty sure this is a very relatable story to many of us 🤣

- Pass the Chocolate (T; 1,6k) by @romaine2424

Harry writes a fanfic for Draco, but it doesn’t quite work out the way he planned.

- Pass the Ogden's (T; 660) by @romaine2424

Harry has the blues about h/d fandom. He thinks they're getting old.

This story is a continuation of 'Pass the Chocolate'. Once again, Harry is having problems with fandom and Draco tries to help.

- The True Veela Story (PG; 700) by Faith Wood

Draco is a veela. He has to mate with Harry or die. Naturally, he chooses to die.

- Harry Discovers Slash (E; 907) by @astolat

The obligatory the-characters-learn-about-slash story. (Harry/Draco)

- Draco Malfoy: Fangirl ( M; 3,7k) by pir8fancier

Harry discovers that Draco is a fangirl.

- Fanboy series (?; 2k) by scudeliwu

Draco is caught coming back from a fan-convention.

- Draco Malfoy is a Stupid Wanker (M; 6,8k) by @emmagrant01

During the course of HBP, Romilda Vane's crush on Harry Potter evolves into a slashy obsession with Harry and Draco. (Harry/Draco, if only in Romilda's mind...)

I would love it if you can spare some time to check these fics out and leave kudos to the authors. Honestly, some of these are so underrated even though they are so good.

Anyway, have fun reading!

[quillbard]

Okay I hope I’m doing this right!

Favourite chapter in Don’t You Wish You Had Faith - I think it’s probably chapter 28. Christmas fluff but happiness for our 2 Slayers and for everyone else. Tara and Willow are okay, Giles and Helena, Angel, Wesley, Cordy Jenny. Good Vibes all round. Yeah it’s corny but who cares!

Favourite ship I’ve written for - Fuffy without question but I have a soft spot for Melinda Pappas / Janice Covington (Xena and Gabrielle’s 40s reincarnations). Wish there’d been more canon episodes with those two.

Something I wish you’d write - more Fuffy! Coexist was brilliant and I’d love to read more.

Thanks for the post!

Don't You Wish You Had Faith? 2, 4 + 11 if you're still doing the fanfic ask game?

I’m happy to answer! Just came across the ask game, am I doing it right? 🙂

[catto-nade]

Narilamb fanfic idea that I’m working on! (If someone already made this Idea I will simply cry/j)

The Lamb spares Narinder, and brings him back to the cult to be indoctrinated. However, Narinder fights tooth and nail the moment he’s on the grounds, and immediately makes a break for it. (Debating if I’ll have Narinder be in the cult for a few days or if he’ll sneakily leave, I’ll see what works out)

Narinder, now a vagabond, is just trying desperately to survive. Each day is humbling him; He’s no longer powerful. At this point, it’s mere luck he’s managed to get this far. And all the while he muses to himself, where did he go wrong? Was it truly the lambs fault, or was it his for placing faith in him? Did he leave leave the Lamb go unchecked? Or was it from the very start, when he considered his siblings family? And eventually he questions, how did he become a God in the first place? It was so long ago, he couldn’t tell if it was the crown that made him almighty, or if he was just born omnipotent. Not that it matters; He was once Death itself, and now he was just a dead man.

He’ll build a cult, foster its devotion, and ascend. Yet, it was painful, humiliating even. And worse, he’d inevitably meet the lamb again. Doubts plagued his mind, he wouldn’t even know what his gospel would be.

And what is stronger than death?

The answer was one he couldn’t get to choose. It came naturally, wether it be from him his own nature or the crowns influence. He couldn’t triumph death, but he didn’t need to.

For he would be the God of Regret

Everyone will face regret before they die, and even after. As one dies, they’ll envision each little mistake taken, or a path that was never chosen. Some may regret just having to die. Others May regret continuing to live.

This is what gets people to convert, because it’s so utterly human. It’s not something you’d expect from a God. That maybe, their regrets will be smoothed over. A resurrection May give one everlasting opportunities to make peace with one’s life choices, but most would just stall. It could be from cowardice or idiocy, or maybe even just irrational thinking, but everyone has a regret. Maybe even the Lamb has one.

Narinder sure does.

(Anyways I’m still workshopping this premise, but I already have some irons in the fire.)

(This is also a reupload bc I might’ve posted this on main accidentally lol)

[linkspooky]

Hey, love your fanfic and your metas. I have a thing that's been bothering me since I read your Azula rant a few months ago (which aside from this one thing, was AWESOME. GO THE FUCK OFF.). You bring up how Azula protected Zuko and looked out for him and he repaid her by treating her like she was a live wire meant to be pitied instead of helped. I agree that Azula was done dirty by the narrative, especially with your points added, but I couldn't help but feel that your reasoning for Azula being a better sibling to Zuko was based mostly on conjecture for her motivations rather than what was told to us from the show. So that brings me to my actual question: Should Zuko help Azula because he's supposed to as her family or because he's supposed to be a hero? And will the fic acknowledge their equal share in their toxic dynamic in later chapters?

I agree that most of my arguments on Azula's motivations are based on inference and not directly stated in text. If you don't find my arguments convincing than that's that. I can only argue my interpretation I can't tell you how to read it.

However, briefly I'd like to point out that Azula's motivations are muddled at best. I used killing the avatar as an example, because unless Azula is omniscient she had no way of knowing that Aang could have lived. She reacted with complete surprise when Zuko questioned if the avatar was really dead. If the show was telling us that Azula planned all along to throw her brother under the bus in case the avatar turned out to be alive, that doesn't really make sense. Azula's motivations aren't really made clear to us because 90% of the time she's being shown to us through Zuko's perspective who has very mixed feelings about his sister at best. Azula is also ultimately intended as just to be a part of Zuko's arc and foil to him not really her own independent character so like, I kind of have to infer her motivations.

Anyway, to addressing your actual question. I'm going to use an example to show what I think is the ideal development for Zuko and Azula's relationship by comparing it to another media. Namely, the redemption arc of Faith in Angel the Series. It's briefly covered in this video redemption for her but I'm going to write my own spin.

Faith is the other slayer, a girl chosen to hunt vampires in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Her intention with the start is similiar to Azula's, she's meant to serve as a dark foil to the main character and while Buffy triumphs Faith was destined from the start to take a fall. Faith is also the bad victim to Buffy's good victim. They've both suffered from severe physical and sexual abuse, but Buffy ultimately has a support system while Faith does not. Buffy is also unable to save Faith and basically gives up on trying, because she's suffered very personal abuse under Faith's hands.

Faith takes a fall from lack of any real support system just like Azula. She envies Buffy for the fact that Buffy has everything, a mom, a watcher, firends the same way that people in Azula's life (her mom, her uncle, Mai and Ty Lee also sidenote Mai and Ty lee aren't obligated to choose Azula she made those relationships toxic but like Azula's mother and uncle war criminal are just playing favorites) have always chosen Zuko over her.

Buffy: Why, Faith? What's in it for you? Faith: What isn't? You know, I come to Sunnydale. I'm the Slayer. I do my job kicking ass better than anyone. What do I hear about everywhere I go? Buffy. So I slay, I behave, I do the good little girl routine. And who's everybody thank? Buffy. Buffy: It's not my fault. Faith: Everybody always asks, why can't you be more like Buffy? But did anyone ever ask if you could be more like me? Angel: I know I didn't. Faith: You get the Watcher. You get the mom. You get the little Scooby gang. What do I get? Jack squat. This is supposed to be my town!

Faith basically has nothing, and she's defined by her lack of stability and identity. Similarly to Azula's breakdown, she's almost terrified by the idea of love. Azula can't trust people and can only resort to controlling them with fear because the person who should have loved her unconditional abandoned her and the only parent who showed her attention made her earn it and the person who modeled her relationships showed her how to control others through fear and obedience and that taints all her other relationships. Azula is a toxic individual who doesn't deserve Mai and Ty Lee's forgiveness, and she's also literally never been shown what a healthy relationship looks like and people can't understand that if they've never been taugh tit both of these things are true simultaneously. Faith envies Buffy's life but she's also terrified of unconditional love because abuse and abandonment is basically all she knows.

[Riley is on top of Buffy, looking down at her.] Riley: I love you. Faith in Buffy's body: Uggnnh Get off. No. No. No! [Pushing Riley away]Get-get off! No. Off me. Get off. No, no-o. G-get [Buffy stands] Riley: Buffy...What? What's wrong? Faith: (gasping) Who are you? What do you want from h-her? Riley: Should I not have...? Faith: This is meaningless. Riley: You're shaking. [He gets up and puts a blanket/sheet on her.] Faith: Nnnh. Riley: What happened? Faith: Nothing. Nothing.

Faith is committing sexual assault here, just by the way. Faith is honestly worse than Azula (they both try to do a mass murder for their daddies) and gets shown way more narrative sympathy than Azula ever does. But you know, Faith is also her own fully fledged character while Azula only exists to be a part of Zuko's arc and most of her deeper writing was Aaron Ehasz champining her cause. I guess Faith exists in a show where the writers allow women to be messy human beings.

Ursa: [appearing in the mirror] What a shame. You always had such beautiful hair. Azula: What are you doing here? Ursa: I didn't want to miss my own daughter's coronation. Azula: Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster. Ursa: I think you're confused. All your life you've used fear to control people. Like your friends Mai and Ty Lee. Azula: [hysterically] Well what choice do I have? Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me. Ursa: [gently] No. I love you, Azula. I do. [Azula screams and hurls the brush at her mirror, breaking it; then collapses, sobbing]

As one final parallel both of them are aware on some level that they are a monster, and that their actions are bad. Ursa is just Azula's own mind telling her, so if Ursa is telling her that using fear to control Mai and Ty Lee is wrong then Azula is on some level aware of that. Faith and Azula define themselves as the bad one, and use that as a personal shield from both guilt and other's people rejection.

AZULA: "My own mother thought I was a monster... she was right of course, but it still hurt." vs. ANGEL: You can't imagine the true price of evil. FAITH: Yeah? I hope evil takes mastercard.

While Faith shares many parallels with Azula, I'd also like to point out the parallels between Angel and Zuko. They are both marked as having "the redemption arc" for their show. That's literally Angel's concept from day one, he's a vampire with a soul trying to atone for his past deeds. His entire spinoff show is Angel trying to find redemption by saving others. Zuko on the other hand is not only considered like one of THE REDEMPTION ARCS of all time but also his entire arc is learning that the fire nation was wrong and redeeming himself by joining the avatar the person he used to hunt and atoning for the ways he hurt Aang and his friends.

I think Zuko's character arc is much more similar to Angel's than Spike's to be honest (they're both characters in buffy who receive redemption). In that as you said above in your ask Zuko's arc is about him learning to be a proper hero. We don't really get to the part where Zuko like, develops his identity as a person outside of being a hero who saves others. Zuko does like learn to calm down and not express his rage and learns about unconditional love from Iroh but like his act of redeeming himself is switching sides and helping the heroes. Spike swithces sides too but that doesn't redeem him, Spike's redemption is gaining a soul himself and learning to develop his own morality and do good deeds for the right reason and not because he wants to get Buffy's approval.

In my writing I'm planning to continue it so Zuko has to let go of the notion of redeeming himself through heroism and instead has to learn that real redemption is trying to be a better person every single day, not defeating the fire lord and being a GOOD KING TM.

Back to Angel, he's a vampire with a soul. Rather he spent 200 years as a soulless vampire killing people and then he was cursed to have a soul and suddenly feel guilt and remorse for his actions. It's like how Zuko eventually realized he was on the wrong side. Angel can deeply empathize with Faith because he has been where she has. At the same time there's a marked difference. Angel's redemption was basically handed to him on a silver platter. He didn't decide to get a soul and start feeling guilt for his actions again it was forced on him.

The parallels between them culminate in Five by Five, one of my favorite episodes of television ever. Basically Faith has escaped the consequences of her actions and is running away from Buffy. She goes to LA and gets a contract to kill angel at which point a lawfirm will drop all murder charges against her and also continue to pay her to kill people form them.

While Faith is hunting Angel down, the episode flashes back several times to the series of events that started angel's redemption. First Angel deciding to murder a young girl, and getting cursed by her family to regain his soul and feel the guilt for what he did forever.

The next flashback depicts angel's mental breakdown after his ability to feel guilt is restored. He's immediately abandoned by his partner, another soulless vampire who finds his guilt and his soul disgusting. He's left alone with his guilt and there's no comfort in the world for him.

In the third flashback in spite of his guilt, Angel tries to be a monster again and go back to his old self by feeding on a woman in an alleyway only to find the guilt is too strong and he can't bring himself to kill her so he runs away in shame.

Buffy walks the really fine line between the fact that just because you feel guilty doesn't mean you're owed forgiveness or your feelings of guilt take priority over the people you hurt and also that it's painful feeling guilt and everyone at some time feels and struggles with guilt after hurting someone.

Angel is a mass murderer who feels guilty, which like yeah you should feel guilty. He's also a human being feeling genuine remorse with no idea how to make up for his actions.

Angel is able to sympathize with Faith because he knows that guilt, he knows that feeling that there's nothing you can ever do to apologize for your actions and it seems almost better to just kill yourself. To be so hopeless to believe you're just not capable of good.

Angel: (harshly) I can't do it again, Buffy. I can't become a k*ller. Buffy: Then fight it. Angel: It's too hard. Buffy: (desperately) Angel, please, you *have* to get inside. Angel: It told me to k*ll you. You were in the dream. You know. It told me to lose my soul in you and become a monster again. Buffy: I know what it told you. What does it matter? Angel: (raises his voice) Because I wanted to! Because I want you so badly! I want to take comfort in you, and I know it'll cost me my soul, and a part of me doesn't care. He sobs. Buffy is at a loss for words. Angel: Look, I'm weak. I've never been anything else. It's not the demon in me that needs k*lling, Buffy. It's the man. Buffy: You're weak. Everybody is. Everybody fails. Maybe this evil did bring you back, but if it did, it's because it needs you. And that means that you can hurt it. Angel doesn't want to believe her. Buffy: (pleadingly) Angel, you have the power to do real good, to make amends. (raises her voice) But if you die now, then all that you ever were was a monster.

Angel has also previously in the show attempted suicide because he believed he wasn't capable of being better or ever apologizing for his actions and when that happened he had someone who believed in him unconditionally and urged him to keep living.

So, really what right does Angel have to deny Faith that same support? How can we believe Angel's truly grown as a person if he doesn't show other people the same kindness that's been taught to him?

Which leads to one of the most beautiful scenes in all of television.

Faith: "You're gonna die!" Wesley is almost done sawing through his ropes. Faith keeps hitting and kicking Angel. Halfway through this it starts to first rain then pour. Faith: "You hear me? - You don't know what evil is! - I'm bad! - Fight back!" Wesley has freed his hands and is untying the other ropes. Faith keeps whaling on Angel, sometimes he ducks, sometimes the hits connect. Angel grabs a hold of her: "Nice try, Faith." He tosses her away from him. Then walks after her. Angel: "I know what you want." She hits him and he hits back dropping her. She comes back up hitting and screaming, but not making much of a dent. Wesley leans out of the window and sees Faith beating up on Angel. He goes into the kitchen and grabs a butcher knife, then heads for the door. Angel as he dodges another hit: "I'm not gonna make it easy for you." Faith throws herself against Angel screaming: "I'm evil! I'm bad! I'm evil! Do you hear me? I'm bad! Angel, I'm bad! (She begins to sob, grabbing a hold of Angel's shirt and shaking him) I'm ba-ad. Do you hear me? I'm bad! I'm bad! I'm bad. Please. Angel, please, just do it." Wesley comes running out of the house. Faith sobbing: "Angel please, just do it. Just do it. Just k*ll me. Just k*ll me." Angel wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her against him. She over balances them and they sink to their knees, Angel still holding her as she cries. Angel: "Shh. It's all right. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh."

As I said in my longass Avatar post we could have gotten this scene with Zuko and Azula. Zuko doesn't even have to necessarily forgive her, but we could have seen him at least embrace Azula out of sympathy at the lowest point in her life.

It would have been a parallel to the way when Zuko reunited with Iroh the first thing he did was hug him after Zuko was so worried his Uncle would never forgive him. Even if we didn't get a full redemption arc we could have just gotten this as a start, a sign that things might get better for Azula one day.

This is how I plan on writing Zuko and Azula's arc though. Zuko eventually needs to reach a place of self-awareness where he can help Azula get through the crushing guilt she feels because he's been there too. He had help when he was struggling at his lowest point, and now Zuko being that support for someone else is a way to demonstrate his growth as a person. That's a major theme I want to tackle in this fic, that helping the avatar and being a good firelord isn't the end to Zuko's development.

He can also do that while still holding Azula accountable for the hurt she's caused others and him. To emphasize she needs to actually do something to better herself, because feeling guilt isn't enough.

Faith: "Oh, maybe we - just don't mention it then." Angel: "Maybe we do." Faith: "Are you saying I got to apologize?" Angel: "Think you can?" Faith: "I don’t' know. - How do you say 'Gee, I'm really sorry tortured you I nearly to death?'" Angel: "Well, first off I think I'd leave off the 'Gee.' And secondly I think you have to ask yourself: are you?" Faith: "What?" Angel: "Sorry." Faith: "And what if I *can't* say it? There are some things you can't just take back, no matter how sorry you *are*, right?" Angel: "Yeah, there are. I've got some experience in that area." Faith: "Right. And you've been doing this for a hundred years! I'm not gonna make it through the next ten minutes." Angel: "So make it through the next five, the next minute." Faith: "I don't think I can." Angel: "Yes, you can." Faith walks away: "God, it hurts. I hate that it hurts like this." Angel follows her: "Oh well, it's supposed to hurt. All that pain, all that suffering you caused is coming back on you. Feel it! Deal with it! Then maybe you've got a shot at being free." Faith lets out something between a laugh and a sob: "I've got to be the first Slayer in history sponsored by a vampire." Angel: "Yeah, well, I've got some experience in that area, too."

Once again the fine line between "Yeah, you should feel guilty when you hurt people that's how it works" and also "You can still live with the guilt and get better."

As for Azula and Zuko's relationship and the way I plan on writing it, first and foremost I plan to make things get worse before they get better.

I do want to portray Zuko and Azula as being equally bad to each other. Azula was willing to throw Zuko under the bus for her father's favor. When Zuko is firelord though and the tables are turned and he has power over her, the way he treats her isn't exactly great let's say.

It's almost like abuse is born out of an unequal power dynamic and not just something that bad people do to innocent victims.

I know so far the narrative is incredibly slanted towards Azula, but one I'm just writing the way Zuko acted in the comisc, and two it's from Azula's perspective. Now that Zuko is finally getting his POV I plan on covering a lot of his pain from the way Azula hurt him too.

If you've ever read Interview with a Vampire and the Sequel Lestat, I'm planning on doing something similiar to Lestat and Louis' divorce arc. Each of them narrates a story from their own perspective and each of them paints the other in the worst light possible while highlighting their own qualties.

Also to some extent I do think Zuko believes that he's "the good one". That part of his treatment for Azula comes not from anything Azula's done, but from projecting his worst flaws onto Azula because they were both groomed by Ozai and wanting to convince himself he's NOT LIKE THAT.

Whereas Azula views Zuko as an ungrateful trait. I think they'd both have to essentially get over it. Zuko betrayed the fire nation because the way Azula and Ozai treated him was wrong and the fire nation was wrong. Zuko can't play good victim bad victim. You don't become a good person by pointing the finger and scapegoating someone else as evil, you do it by working on yourself every day.

The way I want to model their relationship is something like Sanemi and Giyu, or Blackfire and Starfire. The pain that they caused each other is legitimate and shouldn't be shied away from but also both ulitmately grew up and survived the same abusive household together. That's a special kind of understanding that they have for each other that no one else does, and I think Zuko needs that understanding from someone. Ursa ran away, Kiyi is an innocent kid, I don't think he could connect with either of them the way that he could with Azula who shared Zuko's same abuse.

Forgiving Azula and seeing how her trauma affected her can also be a way of Zuko forgiving himself and learning about himself. He can look at Azula's abusive behaviors and be like, oh I do that too. I'm not quite over that yet. It's impossible to be truly over the ways my abuse affected me, but I can keep working on it.

This is basically the note I want both of them to end on where they're both still working on redemption together.

ANGEL Faith, wake up! FAITH (wakes) I've rolled the bones. You for me. ANGEL (walks away from the fight with Angelus to talk to Faith) I used to think that. That there'd be a point when I'd paid my dues. ANGEL Faith, listen to me. You saw me drink. It doesn't get much lower than that. And I thought I could make up for it by disappearing. FAITH I did my time. ANGEL Our time is never up, Faith. We pay for everything. FAITH It hurts. ANGEL I know. I know.

Anyway, thnak you for the ask. I'm happy you're interested in my fic. If you have any more questions of comments on my fic feel free to send them.

[talk-danmei-to-me]

hello hello!! <3 for the danmei fanfic nightclub, how about some chengxian mafia au? with the 4 big sects being mafia clans too. (it could also be omegaverse if u want, but not necessary!) :D

I got so carried away with this! Honestly, I think it could be it's own multichapter fic. Anyways, thank you so much for the prompt, any excuse to write Chengxian ;) I gave it an omegaverse flavour as requested (Omega Jiang Cheng for the win). Oh also... shout out for Cuckji:

It had been four months since Jiang Fengmian sent Wei Wuxian to the Lan family as a show of good faith. Now, his adoptive father was dead, and Wei Wuxian allowed the gang leader’s youngest nephew to fuck him every day to assuage his boredom.

In all honesty, Wei Wuxian hadn’t given his relationship with Lan Zhan much thought, yet as he walked into the member’s area of the restaurant, which served as the preferred conference room of the four great families, he couldn’t help feeling a little guilty about what Jiang Cheng might think. Yet that guilt quickly morphed into excitement when he actually saw his adopted brother. Positioned at the head of the table, Jin Zixuan to his right and Nie Mingjue to his left, Jiang Cheng carried the manner of a man who’d led a crime family for years. It felt bizarre to acknowledge the drive by shooting that stole Jiang Fengmian’s life happened a mere week ago. The sight of him made Wei Wuxian’s heart swell. Though the second he sat down, he soon became aware of a familiar scent, thick in the air.

‘The Wens’ are invading our patch again,’ Jin Zixuan said, starting the meeting in earnest, ‘We need to do something about them!’

‘I already told you, our mole knows their next location. We can easily set a trap to take out Wen Chao. He’s always been weak to women, no one would be shocked if he turned up dead in the pleasure district.’ Lan Xichen said.

Both appeared completely oblivious to the growing stench around them. It was sweet. a little floral and terribly nostalgic. Wei Wuxian racked his brain, trying to recall where he’d smelt it before. The meeting continued around him, but he failed to pay any attention to the schemes being put forward due to his own growing arousal.  

‘Why does it have to be that club? Our girls are just as capable?’ Jiang Cheng wore an irritated expression.

‘I’m sorry, is nobody going to comment on that smell?’ Wei Wuxian asked unable to hide his frustration a second longer.

Lan Zhan frowned, ‘I assume an omega in heat is nearby.’

‘I know that! But why is it so strong in here?’ Wei Wuxian shot a pointed look at Jiang Cheng.

The other man’s face turned a shade pinker as he scowled, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘Obviously not!’

Jiang Cheng covered his eyes with his hand, ‘You always ruin everything,’ he seethed before withdrawing his hand, ‘I wasn’t going to say anything until the end of the meeting, but apparently my brother is incapable of ignoring the obvious.’

He pointed to the door that led out to the car park, ‘Outside, a van is filled with some of our best omegas, all are in heat, all are skilled in delivering pleasure and have been chosen specifically to match your desires.              Consider it my gift to you all. A thank you, for your support in the wake of my father’s murder.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ Lan Zhan said.

Jiang Cheng glared at him, lifted his cup to his lips and downed the contents before he replied, ‘If you don’t want one, you can go home.’

‘I’ll take two,’ Nie Mingjue said, ‘So, let’s settle the matter of the Wens quickly, shall we?’

Wei Wuxian failed to listen to the outcome of the Wen issue. Instead, he studied Jiang Cheng for the remainder of the meeting, as though he were a science experiment. A faint sheen of sweat began to form on Jiang Cheng’s skin causing him to glisten when the light hit him just right, his breathing became increasingly erratic the longer the other crime families argued. Perhaps Wei Wuxian’s favourite observation was the way Jiang Cheng shifted uncomfortably on his seat every now and then, seeking friction, seeking release. It was equal parts dangerous and obscene. Jiang Cheng’s slick had always gushed from him, staining countless amounts of furniture and bed sheets. That he was allowing himself to be so lewd in front of the other crime families made Wei Wuxian’s cock rock hard. He imagined pulling him onto the table and defiling him right then and there, audience be damned. But if their criminal empire discovered one of it’s most well-respected families was run by an omega, a drive by shooting wouldn’t be punishment enough. Wei Wuxian knew what the men around him were like. If Jiang Cheng continued to push through, he’d find himself in a brothel serving all manner of pond scum by the end of the night.

The only option available to Wei Wuxian was to shuffle further under the desk to conceal his body’s reaction and hope Jiang Cheng was smart enough to wrap up the meeting sooner rather than later.  He continued to talk and so Wei Wuxian downed the jug of Emperor’s Smile in front of him.

Once all eyes were on him, he wiped his mouth and asked, ‘So, when do we get the omegas?’

He felt Lan Zhan bristle beside him, but Wei Wuxian didn’t care. That was a problem that could be solved back in Gusu, with a well-timed blow job.

Jiang Cheng moved to the door without preamble, ‘So impatient, have them now why don’t you!’ 

He opened the door  and the members of the Jiang family that manned it suddenly sprang into action. They opened the van’s back doors. As promised, a handful of barely dressed omega’s, slick shining between their thighs, rushed in, seeking an appropriate alpha to fill them up. Jiang Cheng managed to vanish in the chaos.

‘Let’s go,’ Lan Zhan said.

Wei Wuxian nodded and followed him into the corridor, the smell of Jiang Cheng’s heat assaulted his nostrils once more, subconsciously he raised a hand to his face.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, nothing!’ Wei Wuxian waved the hand that covered his nose in front of his eyes, in a pitiful attempt to look casual, ‘I need the toilet before we go. Wait in the car for me?’

‘I can wait here.’

‘No! What if one of those omega’s comes out and tries to get you! I’d be so jealous! The car is much better. Please?’ Wei Wuxian punctuated his sentence with an adorable beam.

‘Mhm.’

With that, Lan Zhan left the restaurant. Finally alone, Wei Wuxian headed for the place he was certain to find Jiang Cheng.

As a result of the restaurant being Jiang Fengmian’s favourite, he’d been granted his own private room. A room Jiang Cheng now had access to. Wei Wuxian headed there without a second thought. Jiang Cheng was in a very sorry state, crouched in the corner, one hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his moans as the fingers of the other hand pistoned within him at a punishing pace. His trousers and underwear tossed to one side, ruined by slick after he’d tortured himself for forty-five minutes in a room full of alphas. In the close confines, Jiang Cheng’s scent was too much to bear and Wei Wuxian flew across the room to him like a wild animal. One hand clasped around his throat whilst the other pulled his hand away from pleasuring himself. Without even giving Jiang Cheng chance to respond, he shoved three fingers inside his wet hole, bending them just so, he brushed against Jiang Cheng’s sweet spot again and again and again.

Jiang Cheng instantly threw his head back and bucked his hips wildly, grinding against Wei Wuxian’s palm as he chased the sensations his brother provided. 

‘What the hell were you thinking? Coming here in this state? Why didn’t you take your pills?’

‘Aah! I wanted – fuck- wanted you to notice me.’

Wei Wuxian ignored the way his own cock strained against the confines of his trousers and leaned in closer to press a kiss to the corner of Jiang Cheng’s parted mouth, ‘Don’t I always notice you?’

Somehow the question summoned a sense of lucidity within Jiang Cheng. He wrapped his arms around Wei Wuxian’s shoulders and pulled himself onto his lap, rocking against his erection he said, ‘I know you’re fucking him.’

‘I’m not,’ Wei Wuxian said. He retracted his fingers from Jiang Cheng’s eager hole and set to work unfastening his own belt.

Jiang Cheng whined from the loss, though he continued to dry hump him like a dog, ‘You’re such a liar,’ he forced the words out between pants and moans.  

‘I’m not,’ Wei Wuxian promised, stilling Jiang Cheng with a firm hand so he could line his cock up with his entrance and take him properly, ‘He fucks me.’  

[partyinthemysterymachine]

hello, everyone. this will be my first and only time i will be publicly addressing this. i am not answering questions about this, and for the first time ever, i am also disallowing anons.

first of all, i want to say that i've chosen to address this now out of my own volition. because i do not find it fair at all that i have felt that i could NOT address it at any point in order to maintain peace and harmony during, and in the wake of the event.

however, i feel that due to the nature of what happened, and the absolute damage that it has done to my mental health, that i must, in order to further my own recovery from it all, and as so no longer feel bullied into silence.

there will be no names mentioned. this is not a vaguepost. this is my formal statement for my own peace of mind and progressing on my path towards recovery.

if you know, you know; and if you don't, you don't.

so.

let's talk.

throughout this past year i have been the target of a smear campaign concerning GOOMT. it actually began late 2022, but escalated long into 2023.

what entailed was nothing short of bad faith reading and interpretation from someone whose skill in character analysis was something i'd admired. in fact, i had agreed many a time with how they'd interpreted characters and the world of Silent Hill. although my interaction with said person had historically been minimal, it had been civil, and i strived to be respectful of them.

i am unfortunately unsure of what caused this, or why it happened at all; and i do not think they know either. what i do know is that many upon many lies were told about what i write, and that it turned needlessly personal on many occasions. people were turned against me for one reason another, and i'm saddened to have seen this happen.

i stayed quiet during it all. i did what many people facing ruthless targeted harassment do, and pretended i didn't know in hopes of minimizing damage, and in hopes of responsible parties losing interest; but this did not happen. i was sent bad faith anons, i was subject to lies, and saw hypocrisy.

and i understood who they were and why they were here. they were looking for "gotcha's!" that didn't exist, digging for reasons to further vilify me.

worse, the bullying was praised. it was encouraged, and it was near-constant. a whole tag was created. the intent was to hurt and isolate me, and it did. it did hurt me, and it did make me feel isolated, and i withdrew quite a bit.

but i did not stop writing. it took longer for me to post, but i did not stop writing.

and moreover?

i REFUSE to stop writing.

i write a fanfic for a fandom i love. i am as how you see me and how i present myself. i'm enthusiastic and encouraging to others because that is genuinely how i feel. i LOVE to see others create. i LOVE to see the vast amount of interpretations, and silliness, and new OCs and pairings and OC/canon pairings, and i LOVE to see others thrive.

and i am in competition with exactly no one.

i did nothing wrong. i KNOW i did nothing wrong. i also know that those involved know that i did nothing wrong, and i did nothing to deserve the treatment i received, no matter how they try to justify it to themselves.

the behavior i faced, and how others reacted with encouragement and cheer is becoming too common and too normalized.

and it needs to stop.

i've been in therapy for the better part of my life. although i've been without a therapist since i've moved, i've finally found one to not only continue my lifelong recovery in other matters, but to help myself recover from what i faced this year.

i am extremely hurt. i know that this was the goal, and it has succeeded. if hearing this fills those involved with pride and glee, then something is wrong, because that should not elicit that reaction. i am extremely, deeply disappointed in those involved for this, and all the hypocrisy, and all the contradictions, and all the willful bad faith asks sent and posts made.

and i have done nothing wrong.

i do not hate anyone. i do not hate who started this, or even who engaged with them; and i never did.

it is okay if someone doesn't like what or how i write. in fact, i have made multiple posts about how i view my attitude towards my writing. one of the points i have made is that i encourage people who do not like what i write, to NOT read it.

there is a very old saying on fandom internet: Don't Like? Don't Read. now, this should be obvious, but the practice of hate-reading is an extremely unhealthy behavior that has, again, become unfortunately normalized in the recent handful of years.

unlearn hate-reading. you do not read to read anything you do not like. it, in many cases, can actually constitute as self-harm. and if you choose to do this, it is not the author's fault.

it is yours. and you need to take responsibility for your own actions.

there are people here who were needlessly cruel to me and who i feel do not feel a lick of remorse for what they've done. i hope some day that they can reflect with a clearer head and understand, and take some responsibility for their actions.

and i genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, with full raw sincerity, hope that they do get to heal; that they do learn and grow; that they UNlearn these toxic behaviors; are able to move away from people who exhibit them; find the courage and strength to stand up for themselves and/or others, to end the cycle; and that they understand that i do not hate them, and that i wish them full success in their future health and endeavors.

that said, i hope all involved will never forget the harm they have done. i hope they cringe. i hope it keeps them up at night, and i dearly hope they actually regret their actions, or at some point come to regret it.

i do not hate any one of them, and i won't. i never will.

and never will anyone involved ever be forgiven for it either.

most of all - and on a much lighter note - i want to say thank you to those who supported me during this time. your patience and reassurance has been a saving grace that words unfortunately cannot do justice. you are precious to me, and i love you all, and i hope that i can be just as strong and supportive to you in your times of need.

thank you too to all my readers, my followers, and my friends. i'm sorry to have been largely absent this past year, but this was the reason why. next year it will be better, not just for me, but for all of us. i promise. i love you all.

i also love me, my art, my writing as a whole, and myself. i am a tough cookie. i may have cried a lot, i may have gotten frustrated and angry, but i am human. i'm allowed to feel this way, and i will feel this way for a while as i heal, yet i refuse to be bitter; and i refuse to stop loving what i do.

because i love GOOMT. i love developing GOOMT, i love drawing for GOOMT, and i love writing GOOMT. i always will love GOOMT, no matter how many years more it takes for me to write it. so thank you to all who have read and enjoyed GOOMT, and have matched my enthusiasm for it and its future. i am so, SO blessed to have you here, and i am SO excited to spin my story.

and i am so, SO glad to be alive to be able to share my piece of this silly foggy world with you.

cheers, mates. i look forward to a new year, better health for me and all, and to what beautiful things we can create and share together.

i love you - and i promise that we will be okay.

for we are alive, and with wounds that WILL heal.

[llamamamarisen92]

The writing prompt:

Here we go with a little God Gale fanfic:

Shinurah was in the kitchen washing dishes. Despite being the consort of a god she still treasured mundane tasks that reminded her of a life that was much simpler. Gale was often gone to attend to his realm. His time in the Heavens stretching longer each time he disappeared.

"He still loves you." She reminded herself as she took time to dry off a plate before stacking it with the others. He promised to make her a goddess and she kept faith he wouldn't break that promise. But he insisted it would take time. Her life consisted of serving as high priestess in his tower in Waterdeep. It had been converted to a temple and the center of his worship. Three years had passed since they conquered the Netherbrain, Gale claiming the Crown of Karsus for himself. She placed the last fork back into its place and dried her hands off. It was almost noon.

She made her way down the hall way to the ceremonial room. In the center was a large statue of Gale as he is now. When she looked at it sadness filled her. It didn't resemble the kind, gentle wizard who she fell in love with. Warm brown eyes replaced by glowing stones of silver. His salt infused dark hair that she loved to run her fingers through were now strands of untouchable light that never fell out of place. He strove for an image of power and perfection.

A supplicant walked through the temple door and she quickly wiped her tears away. She smiled as she welcomed the stranger in.

"How may I be of service to you?" She held out her hand for the elf to kiss in supplication. He remained bowed as he spoke his desires. She hardly paid attention as he proclaimed his desire to curate the worlds grandest collection of gems. She took his offering of coin and rare scrolls and placed them on the altar below Gale's statue. Her chants came out half hearted as the elf grinned. When she was done her chanting and lit a candle to confirm that his prayers were heard he thanked her profusely and left.

Vapid desires. All of his followers only seemed to desire such surface level things. Rich household or the ability to rule some island she couldn't bother to remember the name of. After her days work in the temple she walked up the tower steps to her bedroom. She would be the only one to occupy the bed tonight. As it was for many nights. Her only desire. Her ambition. It was just to spend the rest of her life falling asleep in Gale's arms. She stood at the window and looked up at the constellation that hovered above in the night sky. A collection of stars that stamped his symbol into the heavens.

The sound of electricity filled the air. It turned out she wouldn't be spending the night alone. Turning around she saw him standing there, his arms outstretched to her. He smiled down at her. Not the smile of a man in love desperately seeking her company. It was the same look one would give a favored pet. She tried to hold herself together as she walked towards him. The last time she brought up her concerns he had vanished for six months. But when he kissed her all of her composure dissolved.

She fell to her knees and tried her best to stifle her cries with her hand. He placed his hand upon her head, stroking her hair in an effort to comfort her. But he never got on his knees. Dekarios the Divine never got on his knees for anyone. Not even for her.

"What's wrong my love?" His voice sounded like thunder across the sky. He no longer bothered to hide the annoyance in his tone. She should be happy and grateful for the life they had. She should be thanking him every day that she was able to share the bed of a god. The chosen whom he would elevate to goddess at the right time.

"I just.. I know we have been over this.." She whispered in low tones, not trusting her voice. "I just miss how things used to be."

He scoffed at her. "You mean the days where we were dirty and desperate? The days we were barely able to survive? The days that I was weak and pathetic. Basking in the shadow of a goddess who crushed me under her thumb." He began to walk away from her. Not willing to hear her.

"No! I miss sitting around the campfire and listening to your stories. Curled up under the stars, brushing my fingers along your chest as you whispered sweetly in my ear. I miss stupid little mundane things like cleaning up after everyone at the end of the day or reading a book in our tent." She got up and reached out to him. But when she touched his shoulder she quickly removed her hand as an electric shock hit her finger tips. He didn't stay to listen, dissapearing again.

She collapsed on the bed, trying to form images in her mind of the life she would never have with him as she cried herself to sleep.

[countrydionysia]

2023 Rural Dionysia Announcement

Io! The time of the year has come again for the Rural Dionysia!

How to participate

The Rural Dionysia is meant to be a smaller competition than its urban counterpart, as such, we have selected only 3 categories:

Freestyle poetry

Modern hymns

“Complete the fragment”

Freestyle poetry

Your poem can be about any chosen topic (myth, personal experience etc.) in any written format. It doesn't have to be religious in nature.

Modern hymn

An hymn must sing the praises of a deity of your choice. Unlike the "freestyle poetry", your work must be of religious nature to fit in this category.

Complete the Fragment

Each year, we choose a fragment from an Ancient Greek poet to work with. The challenge is that the initial fragment must be included somewhere in your piece in its original order. This means you can fill the gaps however you want, but you can’t switch the order of the words in your piece or remove words from the original fragment.

Here is the fragment selected for this 2023 edition: Paen 16 by Pindar (52q Oxyrhynchus papyrus; late 2nd century AD; trans. William H. Race; Loeb 56)

……………… ] Lord Apollo, .…] for I pray ….] with willing (mind?) to give ….] power suffices and you were judged to be ….] most gentle to mortals.

Here is the Greek text for reference. Note that because the word "mind" is unsure in this translation, it will be acceptable to keep or modify this word.

-

If in doubt for any of these categories, remember that you can check submissions from the previous years to get an idea of how others have done before.

Submitting your piece

Please submit your piece through submissions on this blog. All entries must be tagged for the category they are being submitted to. but you can only choose 1 category per piece and each person may only submit 1 entry per category each year.

Entries must also be tagged for potentially triggering content and squicks. If your entry needs a trigger warning, kindly add them at the end of your submission and we will take care of adding them in. Check the rules below for further information about submissions.

Calendar of the event

Nov. 10: Official announcement and opening of submissions. Dec. 10: Final submission day. Dec. 11: Vote opening. Dec. 18: Vote closing. Dec. 19-20: Announcement of the winners!

No worries though! We will be posting reminders about each step when the time comes.

General rules

Roleplay and fanfic are not acceptable submissions. This is a religious festival, please respect our faith and do not submit an entry if you are roleplaying or writing fanfiction.

Unlike with the City Dionysia, entries do not necessarily have to be about specific deities or Hellenic polytheism except for the “Modern Hymn” category, which has to be dedicated to one or many gods of your choice.

There are no meter restrictions. This is up to the writer.

All stories, myths, and poems must be entered using the submissions button.

All entries must be tagged for the category they are being submitted to. Entries must also be tagged for potentially triggering content and squicks.

An entry may only be submitted to a single category.

Each person may only submit one entry per category each year.

Winners for each category will be decided by popular vote.

Admins of this blog cannot participate, for obvious reasons. As for now, this includes @thegrapeandthefig @verdantlyviolet

Questions about the rules? Check the blog for past answers, your answer might be in there. And if it's not, simply submit an ask. We'll answer in the best delays possible.

[1-800-hopeless]

mileena.

cw: smut, mdni, mileena x reader.

an: this is my first time posting a fanfic here, so please go easy on me lol. I don't know if I really liked this but I always wanted to write some smut with Mileena, because I don't see many things with mk women here. English is not my first language, sorry for anything wrong.

You had prepared a special night for you and your wife, Mileena.  More specifically, a night to celebrate the anniversary of Mileena's final departure to your world — Outworld.

After the night Liu Kang and the Lin Kuei brothers showed up at your apartment, telling you that you were one of those chosen to join them in Mortal Kombat — a battle between beings from Outworld and Earthrealm, to keep the peace between the two worlds —, your life was never the same.

In Earthrealm, you met Mileena, the future queen of Earthrealm.  It wasn't an exaggeration to say that you fell in love with her the very moment you saw her, and she could also say the same for herself.

During preparation, you trained together and she taught you everything a warrior needed to know.

You trained together, learned together, got hurt together and fought side by side when necessary.  And when it was time to leave, you couldn't say goodbye.

You were completely willing to abandon your entire life in Outworld to become queen alongside your loved one, but Mileena decided that you had much more to lose than she did if you stayed in Earthrealm.  Thus, she chose to say goodbye to her world, her sister and mother, to live with you in Outworld.

Since then, you maintained the companionship you created during the battle, this time as faithful companions.

Mileena quickly learned to live in the same world as you and you taught her everything she needed to know to be an Outworlder.

A year later, you were more in love than ever and deserved a celebration.

The initial idea would be a surprise from you to your wife.  As soon as she got home after another day at work, she found you in the living room of your house, wearing only red lingerie and a pair of black heels.  For her, you bought a pair of pink lace lingerie — her favorite color — and Mileena hurried to put it on after a quick shower.

You smelled her perfume as she walked out of the bathroom of the suite you two shared and something inside you lit up.

“Wow… You look… amazing!”, you admired her, falling in love again.

She smiled shyly, as she was still not used to wearing those types of underwear.  Especially when it was something so sensual.

“I think these things look better on you than they do on me,” she said, clearly complimenting you.

“Don’t be silly,” you pulled her towards the bed.  “It looks perfect on you.  But don’t worry, I asked you to wear this just so I can take it off soon.”

She revealed a sexy smile and you sat on her lap, starting a kiss between you.  Mileena had her hands on your legs, but began to touch your ass.  Her fingers marked your skin and you felt the temperature rise.

Gently, you made her lie down, intensifying the kiss and rolling on your wife's belly.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.  Wait here".  You quickly went to the closet and brought a package.  “Open it,” you said, placing the box on the bed in front of Mileena.

“What is this?”, she looked at you suspiciously and you rolled your eyes.

“Open it and you will find out.”

She let out a sigh and began to undo the wrapping, until she opened the box completely.  You had bought a strap on, as Mileena was very curious to use one of those with you, after you showed her a catalog of sex toys — you had a good amount of them, in fact.  She learned to like this kind of thing because of you.

“My goodness… Y/N, baby, this is so cool!”, her instinct was to hug you tight and she did so.

“I’m glad you liked it”, you smiled sweetly but the expression soon changed.  “Can we use our new toy now, hmm?”

Leaving all initial embarrassment aside, Mileena closed her hand around her neck and replied: “I can't wait to hear you moaning like a slut, while I fuck you really hard.”

Fuck.  It was exactly what you wanted to hear.

“Take everything off,” she ordered, with a closed expression — which you found very sexy, but usually she only made that face when she was really angry.

You hurried to take off your lingerie and then lay down on the bed, with your legs open and touching yourself to tease your girl.

“Come on, your highness.  Make me suffer”, you moaned as you said.

Still with that frown on her face, Mileena climbed onto the bed, already dressed in the strap on, and approached you.  She fingered your dripping wet pussy, pushing two fingers into your slit, making you choke on your own moan.

“Fuck!”, you whimpered, sensitive to her touch. Certainly, her fingers did a much better job than yours.

With her fingers wet with your juice, Mileena raised her hand to yout mouth, forcing you to suck her fingers, looking into her eyes

“You dirty little whore,” she growled, feeling her own pussy throb.

Then, she held you across your thighs and held the rubber dick, rubbing the top against your needy entrance.

“Do you want this, baby?  You want my cock inside you”, she whispered in a sexy voice.

“Oh, yes… Please, Mommy,” you begged, knowing she liked it when you did that.

Slowly, she pushed the entire phallic, plasticized length into you and every inch that entered made your body spasm strongly.  And she had barely started.

Holding tight to his waist, Mileena pushed her own hips forward, making strong thrusts into your pussy.

“That’s right, Mimi… Fuck your little slut how you like”, you encouraged her.

“Y/N… Hhmm…”, she moaned too while fucking you.  Nothing gave her more pleasure than seeing you writhe in pleasure.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, in an attempt to bring Mileena closer and stop her from pulling out of you.  Your nails ripped off her arms and back, leaving red marks for you to admire later.

With a shaking hand, you placed the cloth of her bra to the side, massaging her chest.  You were fascinated by those breasts, you could spend hours touching, sucking and playing with the hard nipples.

“More, baby.  I’m cumming”, you warned, pulling Mileena by the back of her head and kissing her mouth quickly.

Her hips gained more speed, going back and forth, taking and putting in, making you go crazy.

Your back was arched, your mouth open and saliva dripping down the corner of your lips.

Mileena bit your neck and pinched your nipple between her fingers, helping you feel even more pleasure.

You reached your peak, trapping Mileena between your legs and arms, moaning in her ear and she in yours.

“Oh God… I love you, Mileena.”

She laughed.  It was always funny when you confessed that you loved her after an orgasm.  She loved it.

“I love you too, my girl.  A lot”, she caressed your face and kissed the tip of your nose.

“So, I guess now it’s my turn to use this on you and make you cum for me,” you bit your lip, smiling evilly.

“Again?”, Mileena smiled, squeezing her waist.

“It’s never enough, baby.”