#either that or reality is gaslighting me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginedanvrs · 11 months ago

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atonement

masterlist

camp counselor!wanda x reader

word count: 6k

warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda

a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never

It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time.

There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay.

Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.

You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.

“Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.

“Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms.

Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising.

“And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt.

It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner.

“Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise.

��Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally.

“I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her.

“I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.

“Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags.

“See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed.

Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp.

You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input.

As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all.

“When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.

“I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.

“You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly.

“A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her.

“And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with.

“There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent.

“The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation.

“I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well.

“And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired.

“I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation.

“Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.”

“Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.

“It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact.

“Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway.

“Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?”

“The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you.

Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation.

“Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed.

“Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”

You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes.

Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal.

“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started.

“Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.

“You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked.

“Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted.

“I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember.

“I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”

“Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”

“Four months.”

“What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him.

“What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”

“Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”

“Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.”

“Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”

“I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”

The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that.

You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology.

“I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you.

“We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp.

“Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James.

“Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was.

“What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.

“Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged.

“Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know.

“Sometimes.”

“You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed.

“I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did.

“And you want to kiss girls instead?”

“I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it.

“Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up.

“I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway.

“Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.

The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for.

She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-

“Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came.

You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him.

Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was.

As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being.

“I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously.

“And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib.

“I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently.

“What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that.

“God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it.

“Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it.

“There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp.

“Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”

“Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you.

“I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly.

“But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.

“It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone.

“Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard.

You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded.

“Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent.

“I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear.

“I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for.

“Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm.

“Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment.

“Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew.

“You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place.

In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless.

“You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad.

“Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride.

She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts.

It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her.

You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it.

“We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later.

“Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman.

“Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls.

“Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines.

Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly.

You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly.

Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt.

“Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda.

“So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all.

“See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.

#marvel #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!marvel #scarlet witch

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teaboot · 2 years ago

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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.

Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.

If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.

This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.

As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:

"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."

"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."

"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."

"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."

"I must have been wrong."

This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:

"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"

"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."

"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"

Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.

You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.

The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:

Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.

A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.

Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.

Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.

The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:

Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.

Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.

Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.

Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.

Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)

Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)

I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.

I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".

('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)

#Gaslighting #Abuse #Information #Psychological abuse

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lagomorphique · 27 days ago

Text

an overlooked curly line from the HFIM DLC which highlights curly's fundamental loneliness as a character.

he feels at home neither in space nor on earth. people who spend a lot of time in space in this universe losing touch with friends and family bc they've been away for so long.

jimmy is the one constant that he has. he thinks curly is the life of the party, but he strikes me as the kind of guy to have a lot of acquaintances but not so many friends. he knows a lot of people, but none of them really Know Him.

the way curly talks to anya about jimmy, it's clear that he knows jimmy is volatile and lashes out. when jimmy berates him, curly gives up defending himself immediately. i very much associate him with dog imagery - jimmy can do or say anything he wants to him. curly will keep going back for more, craving that dynamic even. although it hurts, it's familiar, and there's comfort in that pain's familiarity

by the time of the crash, curly doesn't even trust his own perception of reality any more. gaslighting gets thrown around a lot these days, but it's what jimmy does to him in the exact textbook sense of the word at several points in the game. 'your recollection of things is wrong. the way you feel is wrong. the way you felt and reacted was different to how you remember them.'

he has to keep this professional distance between himself and the crew. it's one of the things that stops him grabbing on to anya's olive branch of friendship. the end result is that both of them are so fucking lonely

the only one without a piece on the board... the crew choose to spend their leisure time together, even jimmy, but curly isn't there. is it because he's working? is he being self-sacrificing, because only four people can play the game? either way, he isolates himself from the others.

curly's hallucination/flashback/prophetic stress dream in ch3 (maybe out of chronological order?). he's alone, with nowhere to go but blindly onward. the broken off ladders that lead nowhere in either direction.. he can neither ascend nor descend, just stuck halfway up with cold, dark water constantly lapping at his heels

in all of curly's dialogue you get this profound sense of unfulfilment, of always trying to run away from something. he wants to be better, to do more, but the prospect of change terrifies him more than anything else.

tldr; curly is lonely as fuck and pretty much no sense of self

#mouthwashing #captain curly #analysis #tw gaslighting #tw abuse

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trustmypoison · 2 months ago

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SVT's red flags as partners

Requested? Yes! Request: 'Can you write svt as red flags?’ A/N: This is an obligatory ‘This is just for fun and I don’t actually know these people at all’ warning. Please take this one with a grain of salt. It’s just not that serious.

Seungcheol - Temperamental This one might be a little predictable. With a partner, I think this would mean that he might get frustrated easily, leading to an argument. I do have a feeling this temper of his is more in check than it was when he was younger, but it is what it is. I think he’ll be really apologetic when this sort of thing happens and really does his best to let out this frustration in healthy ways. Sometimes, it’s just a bad day. His just might be a little louder than other’s bad days might be.

Jeonghan - Avoids conflict I bet you thought I’d say gaslighting!!! To me, the thing that sticks out more is that he’s a Libra man and they avoid conflict like the plague (please just trust me on this). Yes… that avoidance may involve a little bit of gaslighting from time to time. But most often, I think he’d just swallow any comment he might have if he feels like it will start a fight. This would be a problem if it’s something that really bothers him and needs to be discussed openly.

Joshua - Wants to be serious immediately Might come away from a first date thinking about marriage and children. Knows that’s crazy and he’d never try to make that leap in logic a reality if he didn’t feel like you were on board with it yet. But still, when he knows he’s with the right person, he’s all in and completely invested. Serious? Good. Serious just moments after having a single conversation? Maybe not. He might cope with this by letting you set the pace of the relationship.

Jun - Co-dependent Would prefer to always be with you. This has a good and bad side to it. Good because quality time together is important. Bad because once he gets used to being with you all the time, he might struggle to go back to doing things on his own. There’s something sweet about how much he misses you, but it’s a necessity of life to do things on your own sometimes (or most of the time, depending who you are).

Hoshi - Love bombing I think when he’s in love, he feels it with his entire being. He’s physically attached to you every second you’re around, and if you aren’t, he’s glued to his phone to keep in contact with you. The compliments he gives you are super sweet, bordering on overzealous. He regularly asks if you’re still into him, needing the reassurance. I do think a lot of this is primarily in the beginning of the relationship when he’s not totally sure what the longevity of it will be.

Wonwoo - Holds a serious grudge I think it wouldn’t happen often, but if he gets mad, he stays mad for a hot minute. No amount of apologies or groveling will make him come around if he’s not ready. I think during this period of time, no discussion will really be had either so buckle up for a some silent treatment. Someone else might have to step in and knock some sense into him to let things go and accept an apology.

Woozi - Talks about himself a lot We all know he’s a workaholic. He lives and breathes SVT and all things music, and the passion is something that is attractive. But the flip side of it is that… well, he lives and breathes it. Sometimes he’s so focused on what he has to do and telling you about how things are going that he might forget to simply ask how your day was. Would feel horrible when he realizes this, but I fear that cycle might be destined to repeat from time to time.

DK - Doesn’t always take things seriously He likes to bring levity to everything, and might be uncomfortable when he can’t do that or when it’s inappropriate to do so. Serious conversations or situations might be hard to work through with him because he just… doesn’t like to do that. He knows it’s necessary sometimes, but it makes his skin crawl.

Mingyu - Jealousy I bet we all saw this one coming too. He likes attention, especially from you. And he doesn’t like when others might get a lot of it from you. I do think he tries to keep this in check. Like, of course you need to communicate with a coworker. But if it’s more than a couple messages back and forth, he’ll narrow his eyes because he just can’t help it. Will try to bite his tongue about this sort of thing, but sometimes a comment slips out.

Minghao - Might keep secrets from you Trust me, it’s a scorpio thing. He won’t mean to do it all the time and certainly never means it maliciously, but there are things that no one really needs to know. Not even you. He doesn’t do it to hurt your feelings and doesn’t keep the big, important things from you, but he won’t be terribly apologetic if you find out and seem a bit upset. There’s privacy within his relationship, but then there’s an extra layer of privacy for himself and himself alone.

Seungkwan - Constantly judging Have you seen this man’s side eye? He’s not shy about letting you know what he thinks about something, even if it’s something you said or did. There might be moments where that judgement hurts and I do think that he’d be apologetic about it if you express that, but it’s an instinct that he can’t always fight.

Vernon - Never plans a date Okay. I just don’t think he prioritizes the typical date night. It’s not something he thinks about. If you plan it, great, he’ll be there. If you want him to plan it though, I wouldn’t expect it often outside of special occasions like anniversaries or birthdays, etc. Will really do his best to plan more if it’s really important to you, but know that that dinner date every month or so is not for him, it’s for you.

Chan - Might make promises that he can’t keep Really has the best intentions. Yes, he’d love to go visit your family for the holidays. Yes, he’d love to take a trip this summer somewhere. Yes, he said he’d make dinner tonight. But there will be quite a few times that he didn’t think that through when he promised those things. He forgot he promised his family to visit during the holidays on the same day you mentioned. He forgot that they’re planning a comeback for the summer. He forgot a key ingredient to make said dinner. Naturally, some of these can be fixed one way or another, but he’ll feel bad at how you deflate when these things fall through.

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usoinked · 27 days ago

Note

Could you write a fic where us and Cody Rhodes have been working together for quite some time, he’s always been pretty stoic and silent towards you, the vibe is very tense between the two. Until one day at the arena in a closed off area they finally break the tension? (Please include some rough stuff?) pretty pleaaaaaaaaaaseeeeee

Don’t worry best friend I gotchu🤭

Tell Me The Truth (Cody Rhodes X Black Reader)

CW: 18+ MDNI, SMUT duhhh, Gaslighting, Rough sex, Creampie, Unprotected p in v, Homelander Rhodes, Manipulation, Choking, Crying (from pleasure), Begging, Squirting, Oral (m receiving), Cody is losing his sanity and taking it out on you 😮‍💨

Word Count: ??? Does it really matter sweetheart?

Cody Rhodes. Or should I say Homelander Rhodes, because that’s exactly who he started to remind you of. Ever since he’d teamed with Roman Reigns at Bad Blood, everything about him had been going downhill. He’d lost most of his friends, the locker room had started avoiding him, and then Randy got injured, courtesy of a piledriver from Kevin Owens. He lost K.O. as a friend in the process, and now, to make matters worse, he had a possible problem with Drew McIntyre and Seth Rollins on his hands. The only thing Cody had left was his title… the title he had to defend at Royal Rumble, along with the Winged Eagle Belt that Kevin had stolen from him after Saturday Night Main Event.

Cody was stressed, his mind a complete mess, and now he was lashing out at anyone who even thought about saying something bad about him. Cody used to be calm, stoic, and reserved—this version of him? He was unpredictable, volatile, and so much more terrifying. He’d go from smiling to suddenly being stone-faced, and you never knew what version of Cody you were getting anymore. He still wore his suits, but it felt like a ploy—like he was trying to convince everyone he was still the same person, when in reality, it was just a trap.

You’d been working with Cody for quite some time, and the tension between you two had been building for weeks now. He was always quiet, distant—no longer the man who used to check on you, give you advice, or congratulate you on your victories. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, no kindness, just…unpredictability and distance. But you still believed, deep down, that maybe—just maybe—you could break through, get the old Cody back. The one who’d been there for you.

But that would prove to be a daunting task because now, he was different. The title was the only thing he clung to. It was the only thing that kept his sanity together—or so it seemed.

Tonight though, you were on a mission. You’d been searching for him for what felt like ages. Your heels echoed through the hallways as you scoured the backstage area, trying to find where he’d slipped off to. You asked countless people and you were either met with no answer or a simple nod of no in response. People took notice of how Cody was acting and started to stay away from him and not bother him out of fear of possibly being ridiculed or hit. After running around for a few more minutes, finally, you saw him—standing alone in a closed-off part of the arena, staring at his title with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Blank. Empty. Detached.

You hesitated for just a second, then walked over to him. Sitting down beside him, you broke the silence, your voice shaking more than you wanted to admit. “Cody… are you okay?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on the title, his fingers tightening around the strap like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Then, his voice—low and harsh—cut through the silence. “I’m just fine.” He replied sarcastically before speaking again. “Does it look like I’m okay?” He didn’t even look at you when he spoke, but there was a sharp edge to his words, like he was just waiting for you to back off. His face tensed, his gaze still fixated on the title.

You swallowed, trying to steady your breath. “Cody, I…know you. I know when something’s wrong. You don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine, you can talk to me.”

He let out a small, bitter laugh, the sound cold and hollow. “Pretend? I’m not pretending anything. Pretending would be…”He trailed off, his eyes still on the title, his jaw tightening as if the weight of it was becoming too much. “It would be, hey Y/N you look nice today. I hope you’re ready for your match tonight because right now you look mighty unprepared”, towards the end his voice deepened and he had finally looked at you. But those eyes, there was no sincerity in them at all. In the beginning when he talked he put on that fake smile before his entire demeanor changed, that smile was a vindicative frown, his jaw was clenched, and his face was slightly scrunched.

Your heart ached as your face softened. This wasn’t the Cody you knew. The one who used to be kind, the one who’d been there through thick and thin. You wanted to help, but you didn’t know how. He was a different man now, someone you didn’t even recognize. But you couldn’t give up on him—not yet.

“Even though you’re going…through things, I’m still gonna be here for you,” you said softly, carefully choosing your words. “I’m staying here. We’ve been through too much together. You’re my friend Cody, I’m not going anywhere. I know you’re upset about everything that’s been going on with Kevin-“ but you got cut off, he didn’t let you finish and interrupted you with a spat.

“Friend? There’s no friends in this business Y/N. There’s no loyalty in this business, you know” he let out a soft chuckle once before letting his lips curl into a soft smile. “You…you’re really good at this. You’ll sit here and you’ll say we’re friends just to turn around and I find out you were betraying me the whole time. You don’t think I’ve seen that look you give to K.O. and Drew….hm? I know you” he said before standing up putting his title down, his eyes meeting yours as he bent down slightly. “And you can’t fool me” he said as he suddenly slammed his hand against the a wall behind you. “I see right through you.”

You jumped, your breath hitching as your breathing grew slightly heavier. “I am your friend” you said, your voice cracking in the process as you tried to stay unwavered. “I’m your friend and I care about you!” Your eyes started to water as you felt yourself getting angry, your heart raced as you stared up at Cody. A tear fell and Cody actually pulled back a bit before gently cupping your cheek, and wiping one of your tears away. “You think anybody cares about this? Tears? Really?” He said before pulling away sharply. “You’re an ass” you said sniffing as another tear fell. “What was that?” He asked in an attempt to egg you on. “I said you’re an asshole!” You screamed at him as you watched his expression go from blank to excited. His laugh echoed through the walls as he pulled his hand away from the wall and clapped. “See, see what I mean. You’re not caring, you’re not this sweet innocent woman you pretend to be. This is the real you.” He said before getting closer to your ear. “Do you hate me now, do you think I deserve this now?” He said as you pushed him away. “No! I don’t! I don’t think you should’ve teamed with Roman Reigns but I don’t think you deserve any of this! But I don’t deserve you taking your anger out on me either!” You shouted before Cody stared at you before giving a silent chuckle.

“No one deserves anything Y/N. No one deserves this!” He said pointing to his undisputed championship making you know who it belonged to. “You see that; it doesn’t have Kevin Owen’s name written on it, it has MY name written on those plates. My name written on that Wrestlemania 40 main event board. My name making history becoming a back to back royal rumble winner and you want to look…at Kevin Owens….that’s who you want to pay attention to.” His voice was quivering but his face wasn’t matching what his lips were saying.

His face had a mixture of emotions from anger to sadness, but his words came out as if he was distraught and jealous. It kept shifting but he continued to speak. “You’re just like him….you like him don’t you. Tell me the truth Y/N, I can handle it.” He said having tears well up in his eyes.

“I wasn’t looking at him because I like him! I was looking at him in disgust! For what he did to you, pile driving you like he did to Randy on Smackdown months ago! I don’t agree with what he did, why the hell would I?! I don’t think about him half the time! ”

Cody took a deep breath before those tears that were threatening to fall disappeared. He let out a laugh before gripping your shoulder with his hand causing you to freeze. “You really are something you know that.” He spoke before looking at you with a brief silence before letting words slip from his lips once again. “Listen if you really don’t think about him, tell me….no show me how much you think about me.” He said with a dangerously low tone.

You looked confused, your face held a mixture of curiousity and shock. “What?” You asked shifting your body before wiping your tears. “Show me how much you think about me, Y/N.” He said before taking off his tie and unbuckling his belt. “Someone will see you, what are you doing?!” You whisper yelled in a low tone looking around before Cody suddenly took your chin into his hand. “Did you not hear what I asked? Focus. You’re looking for nothing, no one’s here and we have four hours before the show. Even if someone did see, well they’ll just have one hell of a show now won’t they? Now…time is very important to me and my patience is wearing thin sweetheart.” He said his jaw clenching before brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes met his and all you could do was lean in and place a gentle kiss on his lips. It was the only way you knew you could calm him down especially with him acting like this.

His lips were soft, a contrast to his attitude, but the taste of them just weren’t enough, your mouth opened before letting his tongue slide over yours. Both your saliva collided with each other as a soft moan broke the sounds of your make out session. You felt Cody get closer as you suddenly gripped his shoulders deepening the kiss, air running thin as Cody grabbed the back of your head pulling you closer. The kiss was intoxicating, it was heated, and your body was giving into Cody despite the attitude he was currently having.

Upon pulling away and attempting to catch your breath, you pulled Cody’s belt loose further pushing him back a bit before getting on your knees and pulling his pants down revealing the tint in his boxers. Your hands glided over the tint earning a soft moan from him. Cody’s head leaned back, his Adams Apple shifting a bit as his hands glided through your braids before gripping them the moment he felt the cold air hit against his cock due to you pulling his briefs down. Your face heated up at the sight of him, he was around a good eight inches, hard as a rock, some veins were visible and it was currently throbbing. Apparently all that arguing and tension didn’t help the fact that Cody was pent up and his throbbing cock was living proof of it. He needed a release and he wanted you to give it to him which you proudly accepted.

Upon wrapping your hands around his thick length, your tongue moved before your mind even thought about it. Dragging your tongue across his mushroom shaped tip and from the middle, back to the tip was enough to have Cody’s moans on cue. As you wrapped your lips around his cock and devoured it, the breathless sigh that left his lips kicked your mouth into overdrive. You wanted to hear more of that and with the way your tongue wrapped around the his length and how his tip pushed further and further towards the back of your throat, you did.

“Look at how good you look down there with my dick in your mouth, this isn’t so bad is it? I couldn’t ask for any better help than this…” he trailed on before his grip on your hair tightened as he began to thrust his hips forward chasing the feeling he got from your mouth being wrapped around him.

You gagged slightly, your mouth widening slightly to allow the slightest bit of air inside of your lungs that was currently being ripped away by the man above you. With the friction of his thrusts and the pace of you bobbing your head, your mind started to become blank. Saliva and spit were welling up at the corners of your lips before some of it began to drip down into the floor below. The hum you let out against Cody’s cock, caused his moans to only grow louder.

“You’re so good at this you know that? The next time you see him, I want you to fucking think about the moment you had my cock down your throat, salivating all over it, got it? Huh?” He begged before thrusting his hips forward once more, his balls hitting the your lips, the taste of cock literally covering your oral surface. His tip began to hit your uvula and you were gagging even worse and the air was getting rigid. Your hand slowly let go of his cock before both of them gripped his legs, clinging to them tightly. Cody’s moans grew shallow for a moment before getting more heavier as he suddenly let out a long drawn out moan from releasing into your mouth. The taste of the warm salty liquid on your tongue only made your pussy throb even worse, the wetness between your legs undeniable as you felt it drip into your panties. As you swallowed, you could only look up at Cody with doe eyes, full of tears threatening to fall again yet they didn’t…not yet.

This was originally suppose to just be a conversation of you checking on a friend and it turned into this. It turned into your knees being on the cold floor in a closed off section of the arena, with your friends cock down your throat as you salivated all over it. To make matters worse, you loved being handled like this, your pussy was begging for even more of his attention. That was the truth. You didn’t give a damn about his attitude, his gaslighting, manipulation, or the fact he was reminded you of homelander. He was just Cody.

The quicker you looked passed that, the quicker your clothes had come off and became scattered all over the floor along with Cody’s. His tie, shirt, briefs, vest, dress pants, and belt were in various parts of the hallway as well as your heels, dress, panties, and belt. And the quicker he had you against the wall with one of your legs wrapped around his waist, while the other one stayed on the floor. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, his cock diving in and out of your pussy, as your moans filled the little space there was between the two of you.

“You’re so tight for me, look at you and how much of a mess you’re making down there.” He said with a hint of seduction and anger. Something about him speaking like that turned you on even more as his hand slid up the thigh wrapped around his waist. SMACK. He suddenly gave your ass a hard smack which caused you to moan aloud just before biting your lip in pleasure. Your inner walls became a home for this man’s cock, nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped this. He just made you cry not even an hour ago and within that same time frame you were preparing to cream all over him.

“You’re such a slut Y/N, crying and clenching around me at the same time. It just can’t get any better than that can it?” He asked, that smile quickly turning back to a slight frown as his other hand snaked its way up to your throat before wrapping around it. You were crying because of how good his cock was slamming in and out of your inner walls and because of intense build up of the orgasm that was on its way because of it. That’s how good it felt. How good he felt. Tears streamed down your face, the taste of the salt from them on your lips only added to Cody’s satisfaction of Cody and yourself because of how he reacted. “S-Shit! I’m g-gonna cum, you’re g-gonna make me c-cum!” You shouted to him feeling that knot in the lower half of your stomach constantly be pulled.

“Oh really? You’re gonna cum all over me yeah?” He said before he got closer to your ear whispering into it causing your legs to tremble as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Let go for me, let it all out” he said as he slammed his cock in and out of you even rougher, his hips thrusting forward as if he knew how greuling that tension was. The knot in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter, each thrust tugging on it further and further as Cody kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear and moaning from his high approaching as well.

“Oh my fucking g..od” your voice was barely here anymore from how hard Cody was pounding you against the wall behind you. “C-Cody!” You screamed out his name feeling your orgasm quickly approaching due to his cock constantly pushing against your inner walls. The sounds of ragged breaths, moans, and skin making contact filled the hall way of the closed off section of the arena. The pleasure felt so good the tears from earlier stuck to your face and Cody wasn’t letting you wipe them away. He liked it when you cried, especially if it was because of him. “God? There’s no god here, only you and me. You feel who’s inside you right now? That’s not god, that’s me. So call to me.” His grip around your neck tightened as you struggled to breathe but the thrill of passing out while also meeting your orgasm was too good. You didn’t ask him to stop or hold on because you didn’t want him to. It was the smart decision but when it came to this Cody there were no smart decisions. What came with him was a changing persona, gaslighting, and good dick but that last option made you forget the first two even existed. You weren’t even able to think clearly as your orgasm suddenly hit you like a truck, your body trembling as you threw your head back against the wall instinctively. Your breathing was heavy as your moans came out ragged, Cody whispered in your ear as your body trembled against his. “Look at how honest you were with yourself, we’re gonna do that one more time yeah?”

Your eyes snapped open as he pulled out of you and forced you against the wall, your face hitting the semi-cold tile as Cody got behind you rubbing his cock against your wetness before sliding back inside of you again. Your legs trembled still from the orgasm you had before and due to the fact that you were sensitive however Cody wasn’t paying any attention to that. If it was one thing it seemed that Cody loved, it was overstimulation. But that was okay with you, because you loved it even more. He lifted your left leg up putting it over his shoulder causing your body to turn half way towards him. “Don’t look anywhere else, look at me.” He commanded before starting to thrust his hips forward once again. “W-Wait what if s-someone comes b-back here?” You asked while your body was moving back and forth, your entrance getting wetter and wetter by the second before you felt something…else. You knew what a knot felt like but this…this was something different. It felt similar to a knot but it wasn’t that and you could tell, Cody felt it too because he suddenly began to thrust towards a certain spot inside of you that made your one of your toes curl, it felt so good, he was making a mess of you, literally. “F-Fuck!” You screamed out as your legs trembled even more as a milky ring formed at the base each time Cody’s cock pierced in and out of you. With the way you used your eyes to silently beg Cody not to stop, it only fueled him more as his free hand made his way over to your clit, his fingers flicking over it back and forth. Your body jolted and there it was again, that feeling, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore, whatever it was it had to end somehow. As he kept flicking his fingers your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your hips bucked and just as Cody pulled his fingers away, you squirted everywhere. Your juices spilled all over the floor as the sound of ‘splatter’ and moans filled the halls. Your body jolted as Cody only gave a satisfied grin. “That’s what I wanted to see, that right there sweetheart, we’re not finished yet.” He said as his moans suddenly grew and his jaw clenched. As your eyes slowly made their way back to Cody, his face told you everything along with how sloppy his thrusts started to get. “Let it out i-inside me p-please! Uhnnn!” You begged, more tears forming from the amount of pleasure you were receiving.

“You want that huh? You’re gonna fucking take it too” he said before thrusting up into you a couple of more times before emptying his thick load inside of you. A gasp slipped from your lips as you looked down at your stomach, feeling the warm liquid pool inside of you. Cody’s cock twitched as he rode out his high, slowly pulling out once he stopped leaving a some of the liquid to drop out of you as your pussy pulsated, going from opening slightly to closing right back.

“So tell me the truth Y/N, who are you really paying attention to now?”

Fin❦

Authors Note: This song describes a person who feels like they're going insane and has a lot that they cannot express.

Note #2: Yeah, I’m not gonna hold you I didn’t proofread this so if there’s errors, I’m so sorry😭

@punksyeet @uceyliyahh @luvrsluxe @empressdede @sheaabuttaababyy @binnieaddict @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug

#cody rhodes #wwe #fanfic #smut #wwe fanfiction #18+ mdni #wwe fandom #homelander #manipulation #gaslighting #drew mcintyre #kevin owens #rough kink #spotify #minors dni #not safe for minors #cody rhodes x reader #black reader

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hayqueen · 6 months ago

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the 3D isn’t “real”

we’ve all heard people say that the 3D isn’t real and you shouldn’t focus much on it. which is true but i don’t think the phrase helps people comprehend what that truly means so let me explain!

lately i’ve really zoomed in on some of the phrases to better understand what they mean since a lot has been oversimplified and ends up being a bit misinterpreted.

your 3D reality isn’t fake, it is just malleable!

what you experience is very real. the people you see are also real, they’re reflecting your inner state of being. no need to drive yourself crazy and gaslight the living hell out of your emotions, because at the end of the day we are having a human experience in this physical body. you are consciousness, you’re what observes and experiences this whole 3D thing. the reality is INSIDE your awareness because without you there would be absolutely nothing, the reality from your POV wouldn’t be a thing without your existence since you’re the one who creates it. you’re kinda like a projector. while your experiences are very much valid, it’s just important not to be lost in the circumstances of everyday and remind yourself that; your 3D is never set in stone, you can always change it at any given moment.

we shift between trillions and billions of realities every second, the one you come back to the most through your state is what reflects out in your 3D (i’ll make a post about this soon-ish). hence why some manifestations can be literally instantaneous, like seconds apart (this actually happened to me multiple times and it’s the coolest experience ever lmao).

this is also why people say that creation is finished! there is nothing you have to change or wait for, once you decide you shift into the preferred reality. there’s no in between either! you either are in it or you aren’t, you either have it or you don’t.

the 3D is your playground. this is your movie - you’re the director, the producer and the main character.

#law of assumption #loa #loass post #loassumption #manifesting #spirituality #manifestation #desired reality #3d reality #reality shifting #reality change #law of attraction #law of manifestation #loassblog #spiritualgrowth

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merakiui · 5 months ago

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I’ve seen bits and pieces about your take on yandere Trey but i need to hear more of your thoughts on him. Your interpretation of yandere Trey seems so different from all the other interpretations I’ve seen of him… like you said he was the scariest yandere at one point, and then the post about chenya riddle and Trey — I need to know

*cracks knuckles* >:) here are my thoughts!!

He's definitely one of the scariest twst yans (to me)! Trey's character is so fascinating because, compared to some of the more powerful/influential characters, he seems like Some Guy. What's so frightening about Trey is that he doesn't have to use violence or threats. Rather, it's the way he can twist his words to keep you constantly questioning yourself and your reality. He has the perfect boy-next-door sort of charm that lulls you into that false sense of security, and you'll never truly know the extent of his manipulations because of how flawlessly he can gaslight you. And everyone else will think you're crazy because Trey's not like that. He's gentle and helpful, everyone's big brother! Maybe you're the crazy one... (Are you??)

His UM is quite literally just a more sophisticated, magical version of gaslighting (lol). ^^;;;; the way that can be used against you and you might not even know. Trey plays it off as a parlor trick in book one when he changes the flavor of food to suit everyone's preferences, but it's seen to be quite formidable against Riddle's magic. If a UM can overwrite the very overpowered Riddle's magic....... even if only for a few minutes,,, that's no mere parlor trick.

Perhaps the horror stems from how very easy it is to fall into the trap. Trey isn't a yandere you approach with fear because there's nothing about him that would give you valid reason to stay away. It's understandable for someone like the tweels or even Vil because they have that air of intimidation about them, but Trey is so sweet and kind. He couldn't hurt a fly. He's so easy to approach.

Trey is not very combative either. If you come to him with an issue (perhaps an attempt to call out his behaviors) he'll smooth things over in such a way that you come out of that conversation wondering what you were even trying to talk to him about. He understands where you're coming from, he knows you're just stressed, everything will sort itself out, let's all just calm down, etc etc., all while over tea and some freshly baked pastries.

Also,,, gaslighting is such an effective and dangerous form of emotional abuse because of how successful it can be. When it's happening, it doesn't seem very damaging and, rather, it can feel as if everything Trey is telling you is correct. After all, why are you getting so worked up? You must be exaggerating these feelings of yours! It sounds so logical coming from his mouth, and why would Trey have any reason to lie to you? You're so wrapped around his finger and you don't even know it. Your world is so closed off, crafted by the things he tells you. You may think you have control, but at the end of the day it's Trey who keeps you hooked on his line like you're nothing more than an impressionable fish.

Omg and the infantilization....... he tells you it's just a habit of his from looking after his younger siblings, and he plays it off so casually and jokingly every time. You begin to wonder if it really is just a bad habit of his. But then there should be no reason for him to treat you like you can't do things you're fully capable of doing. You ask yourself 'what if' all the time. What if you don't have Trey there to help? What if you truly can't do that thing? What if Trey was right?

You're not a child; you're not codependent. But you always feel this way around Trey, and that's a snare that's difficult to shake. Especially when Trey so smoothly hammers that narrative into your head.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst

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see-arcane · 27 days ago

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You can’t make people ship ships the way you want to ship them though. People can ship Orlok and Ellen in any way and under any lenses they really want to. Also judging by how interviews of cast and crew go they also wanted people to ship these characters and don’t view Ellen as abuse victim or CSA victim. It’s indeed kissy kissy vampire movie in a way as Ellen literally kisses Orlok on the lips and they have quite sensual vampire sex. I understand you can have frustration with some shipping or shippers and you are free to vent but you can’t change that people ship things or how they view and ship these things or how they view movies. People don’t look at movies and world with your eyes nor should they.

Don't want this to turn into a Thing, so I'd like to cap the topic off here.

I do not have a problem with people shipping Ellen and Orlok, or Thomas and Orlok, or Ellen and Thomas, or any combination thereof. Same goes for the actors/director who clearly wanted an element of attraction happening in the dynamic(s). It is gothic horror centering around the amorous and fucked up triangle these characters make. Ship happens.

What aggravates me is not just the bleaching and rose-colored glasses phenomenon with some folk's very literal non-joking interpretation of Orlok's attentions as purely ribald-romantic, but how it locks into a much longer, much more headache-inducing tradition that keeps getting grafted onto a very Specific kind of relationship in stories like this.

Red Riding Hood and the Wolf. Persephone and Hades. The last living wife standing and Bluebeard. Mina Harker and fucking Dracula.

Every time. Every single time that there is a Girl and an Aggressive Admirer/Predator involved in an original telling, it gets garroted, dragged through a Valentine Card printing press, and spat out the other side, either in genre-blind reinterpretations of every violent act or full-on spinoffs as Beauty and the Beast-flavored naughty xxx romance 😜 (Don't worry, she totally wanted it, she was just playing hard to get uwu)

When the girl is hunted. When the girl is imprisoned. When the girl is raped. When the girl has her life and the lives of loved ones threatened in order to make her compliant with what her attacker wants. No matter how much slaughter or entrapment or physical or psychological abuse is branded into the mythology or book or film, the rosy romantic revamp keeps happening.

I'm not going to sit down and go full hack psychology about the mechanics of forbidden fruit/desire/escapist kink involved in people's enjoyment of these stories. I love those stories! Can't get enough of the fucked uppery involved with narratives that take something like Love or Desire--traditionally upheld solely as Virtues reserved for curing a villain of their evil or firing in a glittery beam from some magical high schooler's wand--turned into something dangerous, maddening, and horrific. I eat that shit up.

What annoys and worries me is the lack of comprehension, or else outright ignoring, of the bare minimum of reality within a story in favor of sanitizing and filigreeing it into 'Just a naughty ;) romance~' wherein the Aggressor was definitely for real just a misunderstood suitor the Girl wanted all along..! as long as we ignore all the bodies and the repeated assaults and the bodily chucking her when she said a thing he didn't like and the point blank gaslighting and the attacking and entrapping her as a teenager as she screamed and went into the first of many many seizures and the fact that she was willing to die in order to kill him

Obviously I can't stop people from seeing what they want to see or thinking what they want to think. Imagination Land has no borders and folks can do whatever. I'm not going around with hardcover editions of Dracula, pummeling errant shippers for their transgressions.

I am just venting. Because venting and languishing and praying for actual critical thinking to make a comeback in media literacy is all I can do in the face of so many people reinventing the Coppola Wheel and stapling it over a work that is itself hammering the audience over the head with a plot about coercion and twisted relationships and murders committed en masse to make a girl put out for her stalker

Give it five years, we'll see Nosferatu: A Love Tale in theaters, directed by Luc Besson, in which the tragic Prince Orlok pines for the time displaced period piece goth girl, Ellen Murray, who is so very sick and tired of her boring boorish throwaway fiance, Thomas Hutter and longs for Orlok's leather clad embrace.

#I'm tired man #let me be fucking tired #nosferatu #nosferatu 2024

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waokevale · 1 year ago

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The Overlapped AU [Aka Superhumans disguisted as Dinner Theater workers]

The Owners

The Managers (Engineer & the HR person)

The Waiters

The Security

The Performers (Wes is mostly on cleaning duty though)

The Kitchen staff (the others are usually tasked to help, though very few are actually trusted at all times to be there)

The Bartender and the Host

The Dishwashers

The Clerk & The Supplier

So this AU came to me upon a dream, and I just had to make it real...

The synopsis below:

The event of April 17th 1906 does happen, however instead of Charlie and Maxwell being kidnapped into the Constant, the Constant overlaps with the real world and spreads itself onto Earth.

Charlie and Maxwell in the process become corrupted and have to hide away temporarily. Both of them soon began to hear strange voices, source of which neither is quite sure, telling them, compelling them to hide the corruption's effect from the publicity, for the time being.

They come to a mutual realization they have to fix this mess somehow and hunt down any and all corrupted by the tome, by any means necessary.

(Maxwell still has codex umbra, but it is sealed shut for the time being until he's sure it won't spread more if Their influence. )

But the corruption didn't just appear out of nowhere, it's been leaking way long before Maxwell found the Codex, if to a less prominent extent.

Thus, in few years passing, they form a Dinner Theater, a rather inconspicuous establishment from the first glance. Very quickly they began "hiring" employees, which in reality means tracking down and blackmailing those who have been corrupted but not fully lost themselves to its effects, in order to hunt those who had.

Winona was against the idea at first, as she found out. But seeing the effects of corruption first hand, she quickly had a change of heart and integrated herself into Charlie's new environment.

Eventually they gathered a rather generous amount of people. Once a person's proven to be trustworthy to a point, they're give higher positions in the company.

However those who aren't, are likely to be shunned or "fired" which...you could probably guess what that means.

Many of these people gradually come to terms with the reality of their situation and accept their newfound purpose, being thankful that at least they still have a roof over their head and a warm meal, instead of being viewed as monsters or outcasts to the greater society.

(Wilson though, can't quite accept this notion. He keeps claiming that "this is just a big misunderstanding, I'm just a normal guy!" Yet the truth could be far from it.)

When Maxwell and Charlie hear of the danger looming, they immediately inform their "staff" of the matter. Those who are more experienced in combat come along to face whatever opponent may cross them, while those who aren't, stay behind, to be an additional aid or a medic in case the battle gets too intense.

Whenever any suspicion arises in the town about the shady business going on in that particular building, the two owners alongside their employees practically gaslight anyone and everyone into believing they're but the most regular entertainment center.

The characters who have either willingly or unwillingly lost their humanity, mostly in the physical sense, are given special devices constructed of Thulecite and bits of nightmare fuel (made by Winona, Wicker and the main two), which effectively hide away their true identity, or surpress the effects of their ailment.

There's also a few other people important to this story, especially the One, which even Charlie and Maxwell refer to as "The Boss", though what many most recent hires don't know, is that there's someone who's in a position much higher than the owners themselves, controlling their every move.

Correlating to that, another person, or rather, a set of people per se, working for a much different cause. Though most of them are "people" in only a visual sense of the word.

And while, there might be someone inside the well-known around town diner, who just might be more than what appears on the surface, literally and metaphorically this time.

__________

If you're interested to learn more about this AU, do let me know. If you have any questions, I'm happy to hear and answer them!

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 days ago

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Hi Miss Raven! I don’t know if you’ve noticed this or not but every time we have a main story update there’s a certain kind of people that blame Malleus for the dreams and then there’s a certain kind of people that blame the dreamers. I don’t know why but that whole thing makes me feel icky. Was wondering if you could talk about it just to give me closure because it’s been eating away at me for forever. 😓

Aaaaah, I think I’m familiar with what you’re talking about 😅

For those who don’t know, there’s a lot of confusion around how the dreams in book 7 work. I myself am unsure about how the dreams work, even though I closely follow Twst news and updates. This has unfortunately resulted in finger pointing and… for lack of a better term, “playing the blame game”. Some fans “blame” Malleus for the trauma and rude awakenings the other characters experience in the dreams; according to them, his magic is responsible for their suffering. Other fans “blame” the dreamers because the dreams are formed by their own hopes and wishes; they claim that everything the dreamers experience comes from their own minds and therefore Malleus cannot be held liable.

Here’s what I will say on the matter: neither side is entirely correct; both sides neglect crucial counterpoints.

To those who “blame” Malleus: Malleus is not hand crafting every single dream. It’s impossible for him to. Currently, the entirety of Sage’s Island (population of ~30,000) is under the effects of his UM. He does not know every single resident, let along every single classmate, intimately enough to write glorified fanfiction to fulfill their wildest desires. Because magic depends on imagination, Malleus cannot manifest what he himself doesn’t understand or know of. For example, Lilia’s dream expands on a period of time that Malleus was not familiar with, so we can surmise Lilia’s dream largely pulled from his own experiences and wasn’t contrived by Malleus himself.

To those who “blame” the dreamers: Malleus’s magic is what forced everyone to sleep in the first place. It is also his autonomous magic which tries to keep the dreamers ignorant and under his spell. (At one point, Idia comments that the dreams are so convenient and lacking in substance because Malleus himself “has a shallow understanding of happiness”; this implies that Malleus’s own nature influences how his autonomous magic operates and shapes the dreamer’s wishes into a dreamscape.) He, by default, must accept responsibility for starting this mess in the first place. Malleus also very much interferes with the dreams and tries to keep the dreamers complacent. Two examples of this are Sebek and Idia’s dreams; Malleus shows up to gaslight and deceive us into believing the dreams are reality. In Lilia’s dream, he offers to give him a new dream and even starts to pitch ideas for them, like a dream where his Maleanor and Raverne are alive or a dream where Lilia can live happily with Silver. “I shall grant any wish you ask of me.” This seems to imply Malleus could handcraft dreams if he wanted to.

From what I could tell, both Malleus + his autonomous magic AND the dreamer’s wishes influence the dream to various degrees. It’s NOT either or. It is BOTH.

Sadly, a lot of the rhetoric on this topic paints one side as guilty and the other side as innocent in a very black and white manner. If Malleus is pinned as the guilty party, then he is robbed of his humanity and the chance to be empathized with. If the dreamers are pinned as the guilty party, then it becomes victim-blaming. The excessive use of terms like “blame” and “fault” makes discussion of this subject extremely uncomfortable. I feel like those terms shouldn’t even be used in the first place, as it inherently makes one party shoulder all the burden while absolving the other party 💦

I think some of the animosity that surrounds this topic is the result of both sides accusing the other of “not accepting that their oshi is a fucked up/dreams of weird or bad things”. I see this phrasing or variants of it floating around quite often. I do think it’s true to some extent, but I genuinely don’t think this is the case for the majority of Twst fans. We like these characters because they are flawed. I doubt that the majority of Twst fans will deny that their oshi has negative traits.

I feel like that “you just can’t accept your oshi is bad” logic is too often used to shut down and dismiss salient points from the other side. When one side says “what Malleus did is horrible”, it doesn’t necessarily mean “I think Malleus personally created this dream” or “I cannot accept that my oshi dreamed this,” it could just mean that they’re upset that being forced to sleep is putting X in a situation where they can’t ever wake again unless they’re brutally retraumatized. This is a valid reason to dislike Malleus’s actions. When one side says “the dreamers made their own dreams”, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re saying “Malleus had zero hand in it” or “it’s their own fault”. It’s simply pointing out that the individual dreamer has an influence on the form their dreamscape takes; this is an objective truth. The problem is that I mainly see these arguments on Twitter (a place which incentivizes short quips with little nuance rather than extended and detailed discussions) or coming from extreme fans who will defend their oshi to the death and aren’t willing to accept other opinions. That naturally makes it difficult to be heard 💦

The game itself doesn’t help because every other update they’re trying to retcon or pile on more details which obfuscate how the dreams work. It’s information overload, and that leads to people cherrypicking whichever explanations they feel best suit their own narrative or simplified understanding of the dreams.

In any case, I hope I was able to grant you some peace of mind, Anon ^^;; If you find that this topic continues to bring you distress, it might be best to ignore it or block and move on. Hopefully this chatter will die down now though, especially since we’re wrapping up the dream hopping segment shortly.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Malleus Draconia #jp spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #book 7 spoilers #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Maleanor Draconia #Raverne Draconia #Idia Shroud #Sebek Zigvolt #Diasomnia #advice #tw // victim blaming

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 29 days ago

Text

Chains of bones: Chapter 3 full version

DARKGODAEMOND X READER/OCISH READER

Tags: DARK AEMOND, GREEK MYTHOLOGY INSPIRED AU

🔷Summary: You are a servant working for the goddess Rhaenyra and the God Daemon. You are tasked with protecting the flowers and one day, you find yourself captured by rhaenyra's greatest enemy: Aemond.

🔷Author's note: Dark af.

WARNINGS: Misogny, (no kidding) emotional manpulation, dubcon, body betrayl, vaginal sex (f recv) oral sex (f recev) rough sex, mentions of loss of virginty, emotional gaslighting and gore, blood, and a lot of...BONES. (Blood licking for this chapter) Blood drinking too...(where is this going???)

This is a dead dove

Do not eat it.

(a+ warning)

wordcount:11189 (SWEET CAROLINE OH OH OH)

Rhaenyra's pov (3th person)

Time has not been on her side. Not now, not ever.

She is standing in front of green great pillars, doors made of emeralds and watches a tired but young woman sit a throne entrusted with red shining stones and dark deep emeralds. The young woman brushes her own hair with her fingers, likely perfecting herself before Rhaenyra's arrival.

Rhaenyra remembers how they were once girls, playing tag in a garden. She remembers how she and Alicent stole cookies from the kitchens and would dress up to pretend to be princesses. Alicent wore green, she wore black. Ironic. Even in their childhoods, the gods before them played and toyed. Now they are gods themselves. And played and toyed they did. With mortals, and each other, most of all.

When she enters the throne room of Alicents mansion, she is met with a cruel reality. The reality of her own actions, or rather the absence of it. The fact that she never truly cared about one certain event in their shared confusing lives. An event not so long ago, yet not so earlier either. An assassination of a child, barely old enough to understand the powers his father had granted him.

Alicent is wearing a dark green dress, covering her cleavage. The dress reminds Rhaeyra of the play dresses they used to wear. Except this dress isn’t freely following Alicent’s movements around. That dress was freedom. This dress is a prison made of fabric. She can barely move in it, Rhaenyra can tell from the distance. The dress goes all the way to her chin. A star necklace can be seen dangling from a golden necklace and in her hands rests the scepter of truth.

A simple eying wooden broom which could pass for any simple household broom. But only the Gods can feel the true power radiating from it. Alicent finally notices her former friend, and wields the scepter at once, summoning guards from thin air. She doesn’t speak. She doesn't have to. The hatred and disdain are enough. But the disappointment, the pure utter heartbreak that is mirrored in Alicent’s eyes? That is enough to make the Goddess of Realms and delight stand down, staring at the green with grey tiles that cover the throne room floor.

Rhaenyra shows her empty hands. She means no harm to her friend. No matter how much they might have changed. She still carries love for Alicent.

Alicent, however, has gone through some changes. “You dare show your smug face here after the crimes you committed?” Her voice is a thin needle, poking painful holes in Rhaenyra's disillusion that this could be her path to redemption and forgiveness. To a solution, to stop Aemond from killing the girl.

The Queen of Delight lifts her head regardless, easily adjusting to the new hostile situation. “I don't recall the crimes you accuse me of. Daemon hired the assassins and replaced the boy's godhood.” She says, and even though it is the truth, she can feel the sting and burn of the lie.

Alicent’s hands briefly touch the curves of the wooden staff. She clasps it, as if it's her safety net in this sea where she is clearly drowning in, swallowed by waves they once faced together. “Boy,” she mutters, laughing. “Can't you even remember his name? Jaehaerys. That was his name.” She bites out, bitterly.

Rhaenyra did in fact, not recall his name on her own. She sighs. She did not come here for the murdered child, no matter how gruesome. She came here to avoid another tragedy.

“Alicent, whatever happened between us in the past-” She sets one step closer, and the moment that she does, big bright green flames erupt from the floor, swallowing the tiles, forming a barrier between the two friends.

Alicent’s voice rings out over the flames, over the noise of confused guards and disturbed servants. “You never took accountability. Daemon killed my grandson, in his bed, because you felt weak. Because you felt threatened. Because you were suffering, we all had to suffer too!”

Even before her godhood, Alicent had this great sense of justice and could read Rhaenyra as an open book. After her godhood, the two girls grew apart, but Alicent’s abilities only became stronger and more astute. The way that Rhaenyra balls her fists, steps forwards to the flame barrier and how an unintended lighting bolt shoots from her fist, confirms it all. She hit the sensitive spot. The truth. “That's a lie! Daemon never acted on my orders!” Rhaenyra shouts. But Daemon is not entirely to blame. It would have been easier if Jaehaerys had died. And she did allow him to find a solution. The God of Dragons. What else could Daemon think of for a ‘’solution?’’ Murder is how he has gotten everything in life, even her.

Alicent lets out a hollow laugh as the lighting bolt is redirected by her left tiny finger, and takes down a green shimmering chandelier, almost crushing Rhaenyra. She hates how good it felt to watch the fear on her former friend’s face. But she hates most of all that she felt relieved when Rhaenyra stopped the chandelier on time. She cared. Despite it all.

“You claim to be Queen yet you never learned the most important lesson of ruling.” It is why she supported Aegon at the council. Not this, irresponsible, young and uneducated woman that still is a child at heart.

Rhaenyra pretends that she is unharmed by her friend's cruel words. ‘’What lesson would that be?”

The fire dies out, disappearing. Alicent crosses the now clean floor to Rhaenyra to face her. She studies her friend’s expression “The truth, your intentions? They don't matter, Rhaenyra. The truth is what the people see. Your intentions are as good as your actions. You sat by and did nothing when my grandson got murdered. You sat by and did nothing but parade Daemon around, praising him, awarding him-”

Rhaenyra feels cornered, trapped, endangered and attacked. She wields her weapon, the weapon she always wielded so well in front of Daemon, her father, everyone who dared to stand in her way; playing the clueless, dumb, victim. What people expect of her. “My son was killed first.” Alicent surprises Rhaenyra with a cruel snort after hearing her outburst, trying to find sorrow for something that happened so long ago. Yes, she misses Lucerys everyday, but not as much as she did when he was just gone. Life went on, as did she. She found peace. Because there was balance.

Alicent, Alicent never had that balance. “Your son, yes. Who took my son's eye. Who did gods knows what to torment my poor son.” Rhaenyras eyes hurt briefly as she rolls them a bit too long. They teased him a bit, they didn’t lock him in a room to die. “Lucerys wasn't innocent. He was a bully and got what he deserved.” Since Alicent assented to her godhood, she has become a great judge of character. Rhaenyra knows it from her spies. Alicent is fair and good. She plays the role of Goddess of Justice very well….

Just not with her children, her flesh, her blood. Rhaenrya chuckles in disbelief, hearing how her friend defends her own murderous, dark and twisted son that is known to kill, betray and lie. “Aemond is innocent? Is that what you are saying?” Rhaenyra makes it a bit of an ill-tempered joke, making her voice light and jumpy. But Alicent takes great offense.

She points in Rhaenyra’s face, screaming at her as her face becomes red with frustration. Years of frustration and pain unleashed. “He was before your sons ruined his life!”

Rhaenyra, now offended too, laughs, scoffing as she turns away, ready to take her leave.

Alicent continues to rant, her arms movements becoming wider as she recalls the anger and hurt of that very dark day. “He only defended himself. And it wasn't enough for your sons. They had to take his eye. Maybe if you weren't around Harwin all day, you could've taught your children some decency!”

The Queen of Delight feels the blood drain from her face, as her entire body becomes a cold vase of water carrying her skeleton. She turns around so fast, that another lightning blast hits where Alicent is standing. Alicent reacts by counter-casting the spell to a nearby potted plant, who lights up in flames, burning the moment it hits. "Decency?!" Aemond killed my son!” Rhaenyra shouts, and breaks into tears. ‘’Aemond killed him!’’

Alicent’s response makes her heart break. “It was justice, Rhaenyra. I don't expect you to understand it.” Justice.

Rhaenyra shakes her head, ignoring her own pain for the good of the realm. She needs Alicent to sneak into the Underworld. Aemond will never let her in. But he would allow Alicent in. For the first time in her life, Rhaenyra is speechless as she recalls all that has happened since Driftmark.

Alicent cries, silently. “My poor boy, trapped in his own darkness. Forever. He used to call upon me. Write me letters so long they could pass for small books. No more. I don't recall the last time I've seen him or Aegon. I only recall the boys they were, once. And how those boys were taken from me. They might be alive but they might as well be dead. What good is loving someone, holding them dear to your heart, if they won't return your love?” It is as if living with ghosts, memories of people already gone. Rhaenyra knows all too well what that is like.

Alicent points the staff in Rhaenyra’s direction, who raises her hands ready to defend herself. Alicent’s brown eyes are full of questions. ‘’I am a terrible hostess. You came here to see me, Rhaenyra? Did you perhaps came here for something important?’’ Rhaenyra is dumbstruck by her sudden peaceful mindset. ‘’I, I got so angry I didn’t realize, you wouldn’t set foot inside this mansion if it wasn’t urgent. So, for the sake of the mortals we all protect: How can I help you?’’ Alicent waves the staff, creating a comfortable table with two long chairs, one for each lady.

The servant brings tea and biscuits. Rhaenyra recalls how Alicent loved biscuits even as a little girl. When the two of them grew up together, she'd remember pages full of information and whenever she recited it right, her mother gave her and Rhaenyra biscuits. She found it odd. She felt like a dog. But Alicent said it was an act of love. She remembers holding Alicent all night when her mother died, eventually. And Alicent did the same for her.

Her mother was a kind but strict woman. She never dared say it out loud but Rhaenyra always had the impression that Alerie wasn't comfortable around the gods. She wanted to Send Alicent back to Old Town, where she would be safe. Alicent clicks her fingers and the teapot rises from the table, pouring tea for the two goddesses.

“I am here to discuss your child.” Rhaenyra says, giving a crude summary.

Alicent doesn't even seem to hear her. She is too busy adjusting the biscuits on the silver plate. When they are to her liking at long last, Rhaenyra has gone silent. “I have mothered three sons, and one daughter, Rhaenyra. Which one of my children offended you now?” She asks, and there is that venom again.

“Aemond.” Judging by Alicent’s face, she knows something is up with him. She didn’t seem shocked or surprised that Rhaenyra came here for him.

Alicent chuckles softly to herself, breaking a biscuit into pieces. “Ah. He was such a sweet boy growing up. I know we aren't allowed as mothers to have any, but he was my favourite. Aegon never did what we wanted and after they took Daeron from me, I always enjoyed spending time with him.” She tells her friend. ‘’He caught me crying, the day Daeron was sent away. He promised me he’d find a way to cheer me up. He caught a firefly for me.’’

‘’You never told me that story.’’ Rhaenyra remarks, softly. ‘’Lucerys did something for me too, when I lost Visenya. He and Jace made a lovely cake for me. With help of the servants, of course.’’ The boy was an angel but he shouldn’t be left alone near any fires or cakes.

Alicent stares into the distance. ‘’He was sweet. He was gentle, kind, good.’’ She finishes. Her gaze sharpenes. “That was until your boy stabbed his eye out, blinding him half for the remainder of his life, however. It is ironic. Aemond would forever see darkness and I would forever see darkness in Aemond. All thanks to your bastard.”

Rhaenyra sighs, hoping to finish this endless discourse.

“Aemond took his revenge.”

Alicent laughs.

“No. Not even slightly.”

Rhaenyra adjusts her posture. “Lucerys is dead.” She says hiding her emotions very well. Alicent laughs again, touching the scar she gave Rhaenyra years ago.

“You think it was about him?” She cackles at her stunned expression. “Yes you do. You always think it's about you and your perfect little family. Hah!”

She continues laughing for some time. “You aren't nearly as important as you think you are, you know?’

And with that, her final patience is gone. “Alicent, Aemond kidnapped a girl. An innocent girl. You are the goddess of Justice, you need to call him to halt and get her back.’’

She had hoped that Alicent would bristle with disgust and stand up, her chair falling as she rushed off to the Underworld to give the adult Aemond a smack across his face for what he inflicted on that poor scared mortal girl. But all Alicent does is smile, sip tea and nibble on her biscuit. It is infuriating. “Aemond has never been interested in girls. Not after….Well you know, don't you?”

"It's the truth. Daemon gave her away and he plans on marrying her.” She will have another conversation about that later tonight.

Alicent shrugs. “It sounds as if Aemond has found happiness. I won't interfere in his love Life and neither will you if you know what's good for you.” Rhaenyra is startled.

“You dare threaten me? I am the goddess of light.” Rhaenyra reminds her with a smug grin.

But Alicent is not so impressed. She never has been. She sees Rhaenyra for what she is. “Light is so useless without intent. Without meaning. It just shines. I haven't forgotten what you did to my sons, to my daughter and most of all my poor grandson. How you clawed and lied, deceived and even killed So that your side is remembered as the good.”

“My side is good!” The table shakes as Rhaenyra slams her hands on it, her frustration getting the better of her.

Alicent eats her biscuits, ignoring her outburst. “Is that why you slain my grandson? In his bed in front of his mother? Is that why you so eagerly took his godhood he was granted just that day?” Rhaenyra opens her mouth to object, but unwillingly, Alicent reminds her of a way to stop Aemond.

Rhaenyra makes sure her face is calm and collected. She knows how to get Alicent to help her. “He's going to make her a mother.” Alicent tries hard to keep her shield up but the words hit deep as roots clawing out of the earth. Rhaenyra knows all too well what Alicent would think of a young girl imprisoned to have Aemond's children.

At first, Alicent tries to deny it. She raises her hand and opens her mouth but Rhaenyra is faster. “We found blood in the garden. It's hers. Tell me, Alicent. How can you know what is happening to that girl and call it justice?” Alicent drops her biscuit, distraught as her hands go to the star necklace she carries, nervously playing with it.

She opens her mouth, ready to argue. Rhaenyra grabs her friend's hands, now cold with sweat and fear. “You know what that's like. She's forced to take his seed and she'll be squeezing out his sons soon. We know what that's like.” Rhaenyra touches Alicents arms.

Alicent cries silently, breaking down at long last. Rhaenyra joins her, trying to comfort her friend. “I couldn't save you, Alicent. I couldn't do anything to save you. But we are powerful now. Together you and me, we can save this girl.”

Alicent agrees, at long last, to at least talk to Aemond. She does not make any promises about portals or killing Aemond or saving the girl. Rhaenyra tells the news to her council, smiling as she leaves the mansion. Alicent follows her out, shadowing her wherever she goes. Her voice kills the silence. “There's one thing I don't quite understand, Rhaenyra.” Alicent stares at her friend. “Why do you care so much about what happens to this Girl?”

Rhaenyra picks her words very carefully. “She was under my protection when she was stolen. I take that as a great offense.”

Alicent hums but doesn't reply.

She could always tell very well when Rhaenyra was honest.

And much better when she was lying. Like she did just now.

READER/PETAL/UNKNOWN FIRST NAME.

You slept more than you allowed yourself to. You blame your lack of training at first, but with a bed that soft, that big, and that warm anyone could fall asleep. You stare at the ceiling, where dragons look back to you. The diamond chandeliers shimmer peacefully and you hate all of it. He put so much effort into this room for you. You can save a hungry family with one of those chandeliers. You don’t deserve any of it. It reminds you of the nights you spent on the street, in the cold, begging for food to selfish strangers who all feared they would end up like you; an unwanted orphan.

You are overwhelmed. Absolutely overwhelmed. Your senses are tested, your skin is burning and aching and you are close to crying. You slap yourself. You need to pull it together. Now. You rise from the bed, instantly regretting it the moment you are actually on your feet. Your feet hurt. You hiss, ignoring your own pain as you walk to the vanity. There must be something here. Some cream, some lotion…Anything. To get rid of your…

“Bloody horns.” You don’t care that he’s King of the Underworld, if Aemond had something to do with those horns growing out of your necklace, and into your own damn skin, he will be suffering.You pass by the large balcony and are taken back by the fact that you are watching a sunrise. A sunrise in the Underworld. It takes your breath away. The light, the way the entire room fills with sunshine is almost magical.

‘’Ahum, do you wish me to close the curtains, my Queen?’’ You should be used to people sneaking up to you by now, but no, you aren’t. You turn around, facing a girl around your own age, wearing a black servant gown. You don’t trust her. The memory of the witch who tried to kill you is all too fresh in your mind.

You reach for anything that can serve you as a deadly weapon. Can you even kill undead people? You will find out, you suppose… “I am so sorry for startling you, my Queen.” Lies, likely. Lies and deceit. You grab the perfume bottle, ready to smash it on her head.

She holds up her arms. “I am Ann. Your handmaiden.” She tells you, when slowly lowering your perfume bottle. “His grace assigned me about two weeks ago. He wants to make sure you are content, your Grace.” Content? There are horns growing out of your body! You do hear something interesting. The kidnapping was planned at least two weeks ago. So he planned this quite for a bit.

Ann grabs the small, golden hairbrush with sapphires. You roll your eyes at the expensive, excessive and unneeded fancy brush. “Shall I brush your hair? Perhaps you'd like to have a nice bath? I can prepare it for you.” She says. You don’t trust her just yet, but do agree on following her to the bathroom. You rip one of the lights on the wall, taking a sharp diamond with you in case you need it.

You follow her into the lavious bathroom, another insane monstrosity. There are mirrors covering the walls, golden tiles under your feet and the tiles have letters written in them. You can clearly spot an A. A golden, A curved into the stones. You deliberately shove your feet over the A, trying to erase it.

‘’Your highness?’’ Ann’s voice makes you realize you must look silly. You watch Ann, prepare your bath by filling a golden bathtub big enough to fit two people with water. The water comes from a demonic statue in the corner, and seems to be hot right away. Dark magic, no doubt. “Roses or lavender, my Queen?” She asks as she takes two bottles of leaves from a cabinet you didn’t even notice. She knows where everything is.

You bathed before, of course. Just not with roses or lavender. Just with water and a bar of soap that grew smaller every time. “Roses are fine.” You say, not paying too much mind to it. Lavender has such a strong scent, roses are more subtle.

“May I help you?” She asks, gesturing to the Nightgown that Aemond put you in. You nod, putting the diamond aside. She looks at it, a little distraught. You put your arms up, allowing her to undress you and to do her job.

She helps you into the warm but nice water. She begins to brush your hair. “Do you like it here, my Queen?’’ She asks, gently brushing your hairs as you eye a golden bath duck with sapphires for its eyes. You don’t. You were captured here and you don’t like how pretentious Aemond is, nor how he sometimes loses control of his own powers. You will be looking to escape. But you can’t tell Ann that. She will tell Aemond, likely.

So you lie, crawling into the skin of someone else, pretending to care about golden bathtubs and diamonds. ‘’It’s such a dreaming life. I never suspected it would be happening.’’ Sometimes the best lie is just the truth. You did not expect it to be happening, and you did not expect to ever meet Aemond at all. Life would have been perfect, had he stayed far, far away in fact.

Ann chuckles, softly. ‘’I can imagine, my Queen. My mother always told me that destiny is something that we least expect. Like, how a man had the destiny to become rich. He kept waiting for riches but he took his wife, his children and his health for granted. He already was rich, in a way.’’

Her words nestle inside your brain, working their magic. You sit up, considering her words. Dread fills your chest as you glance at your own reflection, staring at your new horns. What if she’s right? What if this is your destiny? What if somehow, Aemond is right about all this? ‘’Interesting.’’ You comment, enjoying the warm water and the scent of roses.

Ann stops brushing your hair, looking flushed and embarrassed. ‘’I shouldn’t bore you with senseless stories. I am sorry, my Queen.’’ She says.

You chuckle, but roll your eyes. The way she addresses you is obviously Aemond’s doing. You want Ann to treat you as a normal being. ‘’You should stop with the ‘’My Queen’’ thing. It makes me uncomfortable.’’ You tell her, and you steal the brush from her and give your scalp a good scratching with it. You groan, as your horns interfere with most of that idea.

Ann is a beautiful young lady and could easily impress many people, but her eyes have become as big as a bunny who is facing the huntsman. You scared her. ‘’His grace said I wasn’t supposed to address you in any other way.’’ Ann confesses, her voice small. ‘’I don’t know what to do now. The King wants you to feel at home here, and I should obey your every command. But his command was to address you properly. I feel conflicted, truth be told, your Highness.’’ You understand she is terrified of Aemond. Who wouldn’t be, in truth? You hear a soft sniffle. You sit up, reaching for Ann’s hands. You feel horrible for making her cry.

You won’t tell Aemond anything. He doesn’t deserve to know after all he did to you. And besides, even in the best marriages there are secrets. You scoff a bit at your own poor joke. Marriage. To him.‘’I won’t tell the King. You can address me how you like. I am sorry for upsetting you.’’ You say. Ann looks up, her eyes puffy.

You hope you made it a bit better.

But you only made it so far worse.

Ann snaps, throwing the brush on the tiles in frustration, tears bursting from her eyes as she falls to the ground, hugging her knees. Shocked, you try to get to her, awkwardly hanging half out of the bathtub. ‘’You shouldn’t feel bad! Not over me or my feelings!’’ The way she talks scares you. It is terrifying. You stare at this poor, tortured and tormented soul. Ann sighs, continuing. ‘’You shouldn’t be bothered about me at all. I am just a mere servant, you, you are the Queen. You should worry about other things-’’ You stop her rambling, instantly grabbing her hands, this time you manage to hold them, without slipping on the painful marble floors.

‘’Who should a Queen care for, if not her people?’’ You ask, genuinely. Not that you see yourself as a Queen. Ann smiles through her tears. You smile back, carefully. Ann returns to brushing your hair, now much more comfortable and less stiff around your presence.

She clears her throat, embarrassed. She shouldn't be. She is under a lot of pressure. Perhaps you can find some way to lighten her burdens. Make her happier before leaving the castle. Or she can come with you. ‘’Me and the servants heard rumours. Is it true the King gave you thousand roses and had a gilded carriage with seven unicorns all in a different colour to bring you here?’’

You wonder if the roses aren't secretly enchanted to cause hallucinations. Unicorns? Roses? Gifts? A carriage? Also, you didn't know Unicorns exist?

You recall a hole in the ground, and darkness. But you decide to humor her and feed the propaganda Aemond spoonfed her. If she corrects him one day, it could cost her her head. ‘’No, there were eight unicorns and two dancing polar bears.’’ You say, making the lie even less believable. Ann nods, however, buying it, to her it's the ultimate love gesture.

She sighs, dreamily. ‘’I wish someone would do all this for me. The King must love you so deeply. I shouldn’t mention, but I noticed, he seems…different since your arrival.’’ You frown. Different how?

‘’Did he get rid of that stick up his ass?’’ You ask. Ann gasps, laughing but hides her laugh behind her hands. She shakes her head, smiling as she tries her best to summarize it.

‘’Changes are happening. Let’s leave it at that.’’ What kind of changes, you wonder.

A cloud of roses appears, signaling Aemond’s dramatic arrival. You roll your eyes, sighing deeply as Aemond takes his sweet time appearing in front of you, roses surrounding him as he spawns. You look beside the bathtub for Ann, and are shocked to find her kneeling on the floor, for Aemond. You feel horrified.

There is kneeling and there is whatever Ann is doing. You assumed a curtsy would be enough to please his ego. But no. She is covering the floor, making herself as lowly as possible. It's dehumanising in any way and you want her to stand up right away.

Aemond smiles at you, admiring your naked body. “Ah. There is my beautiful wife.” He claps his hands and the candles surrounding the bathtub light up, spreading a gentle rose scent. You cover your chest with your arms. He left you here. Where did he expect you to find, somewhere with another one of his skeletons that wants to kill you?

Ann returns to brushing your hair, but can barely reach it from this angle. She keeps her eyes on Aemond at all cost. She fears him, clearly. But luckily he pays her no mind. It's like she doesn't exist to him at all. A shadow haunting a castle. You realize, she doesn’t exist for him. He sees her as a servant. A tool to dispose of when she’s no longer useful. You shudder at that thought, horrified and sick to your stomach.

His thin and gentle smile dies. He stares at you full of disbelief as if you challenged him. “Is that needed? I've seen your beautiful body two times before.’’ He has. You won't do his bidding until he tells you the truth. You want to know why you have horns now and what you are doing here.

“It's a matter of consent.” You say.

You expect him to throw a tantrum or to kill Ann for revenge or just drown you in the golden tub. But he does something else. “Ah,” he says nodding as he turns around granting you your privacy at long last. “Tell me when I can gaze upon the most beautiful creature that ever graced my presence, yes?” You wonder if he's truly in love. If he is pretending he puts too much effort into his act. But the way that he's so silly and so awkward around you almost confirms it to you that he is not acting.

You roll your eyes now his back is turned. Ann gently smiles too, helping you in a soft robe.

“When I'm dressed.” You announce, making your way to the bedroom with Ann.

You can hear him scoffing from afar. “Hah.” He comments but he does not turn around at all nor tries to steal peeks from the mirror walls. He remains where he stands, arms crossed but faithful to your command.

Ann escorts you to a chair, makes sure you sit comfortably and goes off to fetch you a dress and underwear. You wait patiently and see her return with a dark red sleeveless poofy gown that could easily save your life should you decide to jump down the balcony. It would protect you from the fall.

It's a walking statement. A walking attention catcher. It's a beautiful dress but you don't feel beautiful. You fear it'll look ugly on you. So you hate it. It's safer to hate the unknown than to try it.

Ann smiles, twirling it, making it only worse as she presents it to you as a proud mother, offering her daughter her wedding dress. “I…don't we have something less extravagant?” You ask. Ann drops the ball gown, staring as if she too sees it for the first time now. She gives a soft, almost shadow of a nod, that vanishes when Aemond comes over. He gives her an obvious glare, and you can see her tremble.

It was his choice, clearly.

Not Ann's.

The poor girl shakes, before vanishing off to the closet, getting another dress. This one is green and she looks now directly to Aemond for his approval, rather than your own. ‘’This is the dress you approved for the dinner, my King. But maybe her g-grace could wear it now?’’ You laugh, uncomfortable.

You turn to Aemond, knowing he will do anything to make you feel at home. Ann said so.. “I'm used to wearing pants.” You admit. “Easier to move around in and fight in if need be. And I look much better in pants than in a poofy dress.” You nod to the dress, allowing him to use his demonic powers on it.

Aemond nods and smiles but doesn't do anything. “Mhm.” He says, instead of turning the dress into a hope of ashes like you had hoped. “You'll adjust. I'm certain of it.” He looks at your horns full of admiration and excitement.

His answer is infuriating on its own but that he looks at you so patronizing that makes your blood really boil. “I think you misunderstand me.” You say, trying to be civil and the bigger person. You don't want to wear this monstrosity. You don't want to wear dresses. You aren't even sure how to sit in this thing or how to walk in it. You'd only trip and make a fool of yourself.

The king of the underworld lets out the most boyish annoyed groan, as a little boy being told he can't have another stuffed animal. “Petal, don't be difficult. Let me rephrase…I think you clearly have issues.” Your brows raise so far you are convinced they are in your hair. You? You are the one with the issues?

“Me?” You must have heard wrong.

He nods, solely as if he regrets it deeply. “You have never been in a ballgown before. You feel guilty and shy. But there's truly no need for it, my love. You'll look so beautiful,” his lips curl into an unintended smile picturing it. “This dress was made for you. The seamstress worked days on it. I didn't even allow her to rest. Luckily there was someone present to wake her up with cold water whenever she passed out. ” He tells you with a sweet smile. He laughs, warmly, thinking hearing such an awful thing will make you overjoyed. ‘’You see, that’s how much I care for you, my love. Everything, from your toes to your beautiful horns, it all needs to be perfect. I won’t tolerate anything less.’’

He thinks you are just being reassured but unaware he gave you again crucial information. He had a dress made for you, by what sounds like someone human. Judging the skirt and the details on the dress, that too had taken quite a while. You never made anything before so you wouldn't know just how long, but that it took that poor woman long you can understand. Days, Aemond said. But you doubt that. Weeks, likely. Months, perhaps.

You try your best to hide your disgust. You must charm him somehow. “I just think pants are practical. If I need to run-”

There is an audible gasp from Ann followed by the uttering deafening silence. Aemond nods, almost to himself, faking a smile when he slowly gets in front of you again. He crosses his arms and you focus on the bone crown on his head to avoid staring at his eye. That one, beautiful eye that is judging you, berating you and even hating you for what you just dared to mutter. That you are in fact not here to stay.

The candles stop burning one by one. You hear rattling chandeliers and the sun disappears outside the castle. Outside clouds gather, and thunder rumbles. He does not raise his voice or shout at you. But truth be told, he doesn’t have to. He is terrifying all on his own, simply by existing. “Why would you need to run?” He must be lying about his band with you. His soulmate is someone else you are certain of. Whatever reason Aemond has to keep you here, it has nothing to do with love. You can't imagine yourself being that important.

Deceit comes naturally to you. But not now. Not in front of him. When you need it, it fails you. “I…an example.” He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly, clearly noticing you lied. He takes your hands into his own, muttering Valyrian words. You don't know what he's doing but you are afraid. You watch Ann, worried he'll hurt her.

When he talks he becomes the King again and you are nothing but a mortal girl at his mercy. He scolds you as if he is talking to a child. “We talked about this. You are not going anywhere. You are my Queen and my love. You are right where you belong. The only running your legs will be doing is when I allow it.” He chuckles, clearly nervous. He pretends to care what you think of him. He pretends like he doesn’t want to scare you away.

You cross your arms, annoyed by the turn of the conversation. “Can we talk about the horns sticking out of my neck and forehead now?’’

Aemond looks at your horns, as if seeing them just now. He smirks, and his smirk tells you all you need to know. It's the smirk of a satisfied child that got his way. Again. He did this to you. “Mhm. I thought there was something different about you.” He chuckles delighted at his own joke. You are tempted to hit him, but instead you just groan under your breath.

You can't break the necklace. So you doubt you can break the horns. Maybe you can tear them from your skin. But you won't risk it.

The way you looked must have been miserable because Aemond grabs your hands, feeling your burned and damaged skin, instantly kissing your fingers and surprising you with a soft, gentle kiss that heals your burned fingers. You stare at his lips, confused. “It's nothing serious. When a wife and a husband wed, she takes his cloak. You know this. See this, little bit of …decoration as my cloak. The world will tremble and gawk. You simply are wearing your husband's cloak instead of your maiden one.” You didn't consent to any marriage and you sure aren't wearing a cloak let alone horns.

“Can you undo it?” You ask, instantly.

He avoids eye contact for a moment, clearly hurt by your words. Then he pretends he's fine again. He chuckles once more, much shallower than the first time.

“Yes, but why would I? Like I said; it's incredibly romantic.” He kisses your neck, careful to mind the new horns. “You look so beautiful with it. You look ravishing, my love.”

You don't. You never looked ravishing. You never felt uglier than now. Being an orphan, people had enough to say to you. Now, with horns and a god king for a husband, what will they say now? And how will you wield words that will root deep inside of your soul, eating away your so rare confidence? You are strong, but not invincible. “What will people say when they see me with horns?” You whisper, horrified. You look into the mirror.

Aemond grabs you tighter forcing you to meet your image. Forcing you to accept this horrible truth. “They won't even glance at you. Every tongue that dares to insult you, I will cut from their mouths. No one insults my Queen. They won't laugh. They won't point. They will stand up for you and they will bow until their knees break.” You try to imagine it. Crowds of people falling to their knees for you. You, wearing crowns decorated with bones and everyone who ever challenged you, on their knees in the dirt, bowing down for you.

There's a soft kiss on your head that awakens you from the daydream. “It's alright to like it, my little Petal. Remember that.” he whispers, reminding you of how good he can make you feel. You recall how whole you felt when he was inside of you, and need to remind yourself too of the burns and scars he gave you. How he keeps burning you somehow. Maybe he likes hurting you. Some people get turned on by it. But you aren't sure yet if Aemond is one of those people.

You hear his words again. ‘’It’s alright to like it.’’ What if he did not refer to the times you two have been together, but something else? Something so much darker, so much worse? You see him smile, as a proud boyfriend who just taught you how to do something terrible. You realize what the horns mean. Aemond didn’t do anything. You did it. By corrupting your soul.

“You did well, last night.” He adds, unaware of your realisation..He takes a look at the places he kissed last night when you two made love. He gently touches your burned skin, by your lips and your neck. “Come love. It's time I healed you.” He announces, taking you by the hand.

But that comes too soon after your horrifying realization.

“Why am I truly here?’ you ask, breaking free. He freezes and turns around, caught in his lie. He quickly smiles.

He makes himself a bit taller, adjusting his posture. “I want to heal you.” He says with that little oh so scared chuckle. You rip yourself free, not listening anymore. He is not touching you until he tells you what he’s hiding or when you are finally home again.

“No. You wont get your way until you tell me all there is.” You say. The King laughs, as his pupil darkens. You try not to be afraid, but the truth is that is easier said than done. With one snap of his little finger he can break your neck, you are certain of that.

His soft but rough voice softly rings out. “I don't think you understand how things work.” He bends his fingers slightly, as if making claws. At his command, your necklace begins to close tighter around your throat, slightly choking you. “I will heal you.”

You gasp for air as Ann rushes out of her hiding spot, her eyes full of worry. She does not help you, however. You don’t blame her. “You can after you tell me the truth.” You manage to croak out to Aemond. ‘’You can heal me, just…tell me.’’

He only laughs harder, choking you to the point where your vision blurs.

“Don't be difficult now, Petal. I would have preferred making you breathless another way, but I will keep you close. I can’t afford losing you.’’

Ann steps in front of you, protecting you. “My king, her royal highness, the Queen hasn't eaten anything yet. Mayhaps we should let her eat a bit, and you can heal her after? Women are known to be frustrated easily if not well fed.” She tries to laugh it off but she is afraid. She knows who she is defying. For you of all people.

Ann actually stood up for you. It is a clear attempt to give you some time alone, away from Aemond and his desires. He stares at you, giving you finally more space to breathe and releases you.

You gasp for air, eagerly filling your lungs. But he does not stop. He simply switches targets. He picks up Ann now, holding her in the air and choking her, much harder than he ever choked you. “Do not make me turn you into a pile of ashes. I entrust you with my most valuable possession but I won't hesitate to kill you.” He warns her, his voice becoming darker and rougher.

“My king, forgive me! I meant no offense!” Ann begins to cry, struggling to say anything else.

He growls. ‘’Yet you do. You dared to question my authority and dared to order me around! I am not your dog, I am your King, your God! She is mine and mine to do with as I please-’’ That is enough for you. You run in his direction, surprising him. You jump on top of him, tackling him to the ground. His hands stop the spell, interrupted. You pin him to the floors and stare into his eye, heavily breathing because of the adrenaline.

‘’Do not hurt Ann.’’You tell him, warning him. ‘’You want me to give you a chance and all of this madness? Stop killing people and stop treating me like your whore. You have one chance. I don’t care that you are immortal, I will find a way to kill you, Aemond.’’

“One day around you and she thinks she can order me around like I'm a dog!” He rages, but calms when he notices your hands on his clothed chest. Your hands feel the familiar hole that sits right by where his heart would be.

Ann shakes her head, falling to her knees. “No, your grace, please, my good King! No I didn't. I only had your best interest in mind. The servants know of her Grace's…” You curse as it all makes sense. You get off from Aemond. He remains on the floor, perfectly fine and even puts his arms behind his head, enjoying the show that is about to unfold. He even dares to adjust himself, so he is more comfortable.

Ann never cared about you not having eaten.

His eye is following you around, clearly lusting and feeding on your darkness as you approach Ann. “Of what?” You ask, just to clarify.

She shakes as a leaf. But you need to know this truth. You had fears and you want to know if you were right. The darkest fear of all. That you could be with child. His child. “That you and the King consummated your marriage earlier.” You turn your head to Aemond. A consummation would make any marriage legal and binding. Did he truly lie to you? Are you two married, in some secret demon pact? Is that why he took you so quickly?

Aemond rises from the ground, not paying much attention to his surroundings and ends up on a low hanging shelf with bottles. “It is true me and the Queen were…overcome with emotions,’’ You scratch your head, staring at the ground. You scoff, tears stinging. He played you. He lied to you. He married you. If he truly felt anything for you, he wouldn’t have done that. He would have been honest. About at least something.

Aemond’s words were first addressed to Ann, but they changed target. His voice becomes softer as his hands glide into your own, and you notice he somehow clings to you. As if you can save him. ‘’- but I want to wed her in a proper ceremony with proper guests and attire. She should be crowned for all to see. She deserves a wonderful wedding and that's what she'll get. No, we didn't consummate our marriage. We aren’t married, just yet.’’ You feel relief. But that doesn’t answer your other question. “But we did have a special time getting to know one another.” Aemond adds, making the story more spectaculair than it needs to be. You roll your eyes.

Ann chuckles, still terrified but carefully tries to make conversation to avoid your anger or Aemond's. “The dancing polar bears must have been quite the view.” she says, remembering the lies you told her.

You see Aemond's good eye narrow in confusion. “The what?”

She stares at the two of you. “I don't judge, my Queen, my King. I simply wanted the Queen fed in case there's…Something inside her belly.” You glare at Aemond, asking him directly with your emotions and eyes if he knows that you are with child. He turns his head away.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, clearly avoiding you at all costs suddenly. “That's quite the disturbing thought process.” He says. ‘’I think you should take your leave. Me and the Queen need to talk.’’ Ann makes a curtsy and leaves quickly after Aemond orders her, likely very happy to be granted leave at all.

He smirks as she leaves. ‘’I had no idea there was such a feisty side to that girl. The way she stood up for you, I never imagined in a million years that humans were capable of that. She is a interesting pet, don’t you agree?’’

You aren’t sure what you feel stirring up. Is it disgust or jealousy? “She's a person not your pet.” you bite out offended regardless. To your surprise, to your horror even, you added something you had no control over. An arm that tries to hit the King of the Underworld. You gasp as Aemond captures your arm quickly, smirking broadly as he leans in, caressing your face with his long blood red and white nails.

You stare at your arms, shocked and confused. Why did you do that? ‘’There is no need to be jealous, my Queen. You think I’m interested in her, when I have you, right where I want you?’’ He presses his nose to your own, kissing your lips when softly nibbling on your under lip. You hear him exhale deeply, and you taste your own blood. He bit you. He kisses deeper and longer, tasting your blood. It should feel so bad, but it feels so good. You should hate every touch, every kiss but you only seem to want more and more of him. You need to stop him.

You break the kiss.

‘’You should stop pestering Ann.’’

He grins, but doesn’t nod or agree. “She made you uncomfortable.” He responds, grabbing you by your hips. He stares into your eyes again, slowly opening your bathrobe. ‘’It’s a crime that you tried to hide all of this from my eyes. You should be punished.’’ He whispers, staring at your naked body. You try to fight your desires for him.

She only tried to stop someone from getting choked. “She means well. She wants the best for me and for you.” Or for the innocent unborn child she thought you were carrying around.

He rolls his eye, annoyed at you bringing up Ann when he is clearly trying to seduce you.

“All based on one conversation. And you are not with child. Not mine, not anyone's. ’’ He sighs dramatically. ‘’May I now heal you?’’ He's impatient. You stare at your burned finger tops that you burned when touching him.

‘’Can you at least tell me how to avoid burning myself in the future?’’ You would like to know that. There must be some way to stop yourself from burning your skin.

‘’You can’t, Petal.’’ His answer shocks and surprises you. You thought he had something to protect you from it. ‘’I apologize.’’ He adds, in a tone unlike himself. He truly regrets that he can't tell you another answer. He regrets it. ‘’I can heal you.’’ He adds. “But I can't teach you how to become immune. Nor can I cast spells that protect you against my own magic. It would not work.”

You decide to humor him. Your burns hurt and so do your bruises. You might seduce him into taking your horns away again. You nod, handing yourself over. Aemond deeply exhales, sensing your surrender and he grins as his pupil slightly widens, and briefly dark shadows dance around his fingertips.

‘’Lay on the bed.’’ He says. You raise a brow, but obey, skeptical. ‘’And get rid of the robe.’’ You do what he asks. Aemond joins you on the bed, having used his dark powers to appear right next to you, startling you. He looks at your burned fingertips, softly brushing them with his own. He begins to softly kiss your fingertips. You watch, as your skin heals right before your eyes. He is truly powerful, healing burned ruined skin with his own well mouth.

Aemond sadly only appears to use his powers for bad things. But this proves he can do great things. He could heal wounds and cure the sick. If only he wanted.

Aemond moves on to your legs, which he also injured when taking you. Scratches and bruises and even small cuts are healed when he kisses your legs, softly caressing your legs. You are trying your best to remain stubbornly in a stiff position, but Aemond simply flips you over, reaching your belly and kissing your neck, healing the sensitive skin where your horns and necklace crawled inside of. You try to suppress a moan and a curse as he begins to suck there too, making the pain go away briefly and replace it with an addictive sharp and powerful delicious feeling. ‘’Inflicting the pain can be fun, but so can be the aftercare.’’ You hear him whisper in your ear, as his fingers softly tap against your legs. ‘’I want you to understand that if we are to lay together more oftenly, this too will happen more often. I don’t want you walking around my castle with burns and scars. Not when I can so easily take your pain away.’’

You allow him to kiss and heal you, wondering how the same lips that did you so much pain now bring you pleasure and healing. ‘’I thought you liked it when I wore the scars?’’ You refer to the bones sticking out of your body. The horns and the necklace.

He pauses, caught off guard. His voice is a rough but quiet groan. ‘’No. I don’t.’’

He moves on to your belly, kissing your stomach lovingly as he takes in your breasts likely already picturing himself closer to you. But before he even touches your breasts, he kisses your forehead, healing the sensitive skin, staring in your eyes.

He then leans over your chest and begins.

He cools the burned flesh when softly sucking on your tit, causing you to feel conflicting emotions. He grins as you begin to turn your head away to avoid looking into his eyes or seeing your breast into his mouth. “Do you like your handmaiden? Is she kind and does she address you properly?” Ann is perfect. But why did he get you a handmaiden? Is she to assist and help you look pretty or is she just a way for Aemond to watch and control you?

You don't like the way he said it properly. He scared poor Ann into doing his bidding and now she won't ever stop calling you ‘’My Queen’’. As if you are somehow above her. Ann is so far a better human than you would ever be. She's kind and selfless. Brave too.

“I can wash myself.” You inform him with a slight push against his chest.

Aemond captures your wrists, holding your hand tight but soft. “A Queen should have servants. Handmaidens are more than that. You will build a life here, Petal. I want you to have female trusted friends. Having only me is not healthy.” He discovers another wound on your fingertips and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them and healing them.

He wants you to have friends. You are first, shocked. He does not seem like the type to have any friends himself, so why should he care that you are friendless? Then you are enraged. Because if he had not kidnapped you you would actually be around people who are your friends: Daemon and Rhaenyra. And the way how he treated you, there is nothing healthy about that.

You wait until he is done healing you. “Now you care about what's healthy? Do you remember the bench you fucked me sore and bloody on? Do you remember how scared I was in the throne room and disoriented and all you did was chain me and leave me to go Gods knows where? And when you left last night when you had-” You feel sadness stir.

Aemond doesn't laugh or deny your accusations. He seems sorrowful and full of regret. “I partly regret it. The garden was too harsh. I regret hurting you. I don’t regret making love to you. I don't regret making you lose control and having you finish. I don't regret hearing you cry in my ear how badly you wanted me. I don't regret kidnapping you either. I don't regret it now, nor ever. As for leaving you, I was merely Making the final preparations. I didn't want you to arrive in an unsuited room.” He huffs.

You feel guilt washing over you. You don't deserve any of this luxury. You don't deserve it at all. He is softly circling your skin, distraught as he finally manages to gather his courage. His voice is a strained whisper. “Would you rather I had stayed, Petal? After our …intimacy? Would that have …caused less hurt?” You don't think so. He takes your hands into his own. “When we marry, you can move into my rooms or have your own rooms. I don't mind, truly. Whatever makes you feel at home the most.” You know that is a generous offer not many Queens are gifted by their kings. You wonder if it's sincere.

He continues, nervously scratching his nails against his scalp. “I do wish to see you at least once a day, to know you are well and cared for. Once a week, I hope you'll grant me the privilege to take you somewhere fun.” You picture a festival somewhere in the Underworld and scoff. Somewhere fun. Where would that even be? He will never take you to the other world again.

“What is your idea of fun, an execution?” You remark, grumpy at this proposal.

“Sometimes.’’ He blurts out, unaware. You see him tense up and quickly try to defend himself. ‘’ I mean, no! Mayhaps a romantic dinner by candlelight or spending time in the library. I have a beautiful collection. You like to read don't you?” He knows so much about you. You read years ago for the last time.

“You know so much.” You remark, suspicious.

He continues to heal you with his mouth, and his fingertips, touching burned, bruised and injured areas of your body. He drops your hands. He does so in silence. When he speaks, your faces are close and he is touching your lips. His voice is a whisper. “I had to. For your own safety. Darker forces than myself are conspiring. I can't risk you falling into the wrong hands.”

You laugh, ignoring his warnings, thinking it is just propaganda or lies. “You make me sound like a weapon.” You say with a roll of your eyes. You aren't powerful. You aren't a weapon.

He grabs your hands again, this time pressing them to his own chest. His voice is so serious, so solid and unmoving that it makes you gulp. “Not a weapon. A solution. An answer. Hope.” He declares.

Confusing emotions fight inside of you. You never had been anyone’s hope or answer. Or a solution. “For who?” You wonder.

Aemond’s lips carefully bend into a smile. ‘’Me.’’

The answer takes you back and makes you feel unlike anything you felt before. He thinks you are his solution. His answer to his question. You doubt it. You can barely love yourself. How could anyone else, let alone the King of death manage? “How is the Handmaiden? Is she to your liking? If not we can whip her or peel off her skin.” He chuckles until he sees your glare.

“The handmaid is fine.” You say a bit indifferent. Aemond is not satisfied with your answer, eager to know what you think of your new “pet”.

“Fine? Fine? Define fine,” he chuckles as the words rhyme. “I need only the best for my Queen.” You are kissed again. He continues as you try your best to not argue with him. He grins. “She's a lucky woman, to even attend to your needs. All your staff is so lucky to have you. As am I.” His smile is soft and almost believable. You want to believe that someone can love you. But you can't.

The insecurity is too big consuming your soul.

“When she brushes your hair, is she gentle with it? Does she understand her role here? That you are her Goddess and that she is a mere ant living in the shade you cast, doomed every moment of the day to be squashed to nothing beneath your eternal heel?” You mutter a prayer at his words.

You would almost laugh at how terribly smitten he sounds. As some schoolboy that has a one sided crush on some girl that never Noticed him. But you know its not love. Its something darker than that. It's obsession

“You sound as crazy as Ann. Like how she was thinking that I'm pregnant with your baby.” You say, laughing.

You thought he'd appreciate that comment. You aren't sure why you called Ann crazy. She isn't crazy. She is terrified. And terrified people do crazy things. But it's not her fault. If anything it's yours. Aemond can't appreciate your humor. “Why is that so crazy? That is our end goal.” He reveals, staring at your belly as if he's already picturing it swelling with his own seed, your womb quickening with his child with a glare.

“Our?” You remark, unsure where he got that idea that you want any child, let alone his child. Not only is Aemond a selfish monster but he's also cruel and vengeful. You wouldn't want to squeeze out any child, and definitely not a half God. You fear for your own safety and the child's should you get pregnant after these many adventures you and Aemond share.

He ignores your hesitation, already picturing it. “Well, when we have settled and conquered our foes and danced in their blood, crushed their bones to dust, surely there's no better victory than making an heir?” He doesn't wink or wiggle his brows but instead caresses your knuckles so he can feel your warmth.

There is a silence.

You understand he's waiting for your answer. You allow him to caress and hold you. It's different from what he did before. This is no claiming and fucking. No hunger or rush. Just patience and gentleness. You enjoy it.

You don't want A child. You hope he understands. You can't risk getting pregnant. You must tell him that you fear that. “You know im a orphan.” You begin, trying to be honest about your feelings despite your mind warning you to not trust Aemond.

He nods, happy that you trust him.

“I do.” He admits.

You avoid eye contact as you look at his pale bone decorated fingers. You reach out to feel the flesh of his skin, to feel how warm he is. He's as cold as a dead corpse. “Can you promise me something, Aemond?”

He becomes tense, unsure where the conversation is going. “I don't know.” He confesses and you don't doubt that some things are beyond his control. But he is the King of the underworld. He can do more than he admits. And so can you.

“Can you promise me; that until I am ready for it, we won't have a baby?” He seems relieved at this, imagining a worse question.

“That's quite the promise to make.” He says, however playing with you and bargaining. He wouldn't give you anything for free. Not truly. He wants you to be the mother of his children. He said so plenty of times.

You sigh. Aemond warned you of a great danger. You can't escape the castle regardless and outside there is danger and darkness and forces conspiring whatever that might mean. You are good at telling when people are lying. But you can't read Aemond. You can't tell if he's lying. You aren't sure you can't tell because he's so good at hiding or because he is not lying at all. “In exchange I won't try to run.” Aemond's mouth Slowly opens at your proposal, clearly approving.

You need to know more anyway before you run. You need to know if Aemond made the forces up or if there's truly something out there lurking on you. After that you can leave. Hopefully.

He doesn't need a moment to think about it.

“Agreed.” He Nearly shouts in eagerness, smiling broadly, while kissing you.

That concerns you greatly. He is way too eager. He didn't need a single moment. “That's fast. I expected you to think about it a bit more.” You admit, wary and suspicious.

“Why, it's an amazing deal.” He smirks knowingly. “You accepted your place as my Queen, my Love and my Lady. That is all I asked for. All I wished for and all I desired. So soon too. I never expected you to yield and submit so quickly. I know I can be charming, but you surprise me.” He places a greedy kiss close to a mark on your neck, feeling your breasts with his hands as he puts you up so he can touch you properly, desire driving him. You want him to touch you. You long for it.

He kisses your neck coming closer to your collarbones as his hands disappear between your legs, touching you there. You release a gasp and accept his fingers entering your body, penetrating you as he holds you, fucking you on his fingers. You are gasping louder and louder close to moaning. He chuckles. “Just in case my little young new Queen thought to run; You can't break a deal with me. No one can. You are now doomed to stay here. Forever.” The fingers go only faster as if he arouses himself by your moans and eager cries, and his own obsessive behaviour.

You open your mouth to protest but Aemond forces more fingers inside of you, filling you up. You are penetrated much rougher and quicker and judging by his smirk he wants to keep you quiet. This is all part of some dark fantasy. “I wont fuck you today. Not with my cock. But as a young mortal Queen it's important you get your daily dose of arousal. And plenty of preparation for our wedding night.” You are disappointed, truth be told. You love how good it can feel to have him inside you and to feel him take you the way a wife is taken by her husband. You enjoy the fingers but the cock would be better. It would be rougher and harder for one. “You can try tricking me as often as you'd like but at the end of the day we both know who will be superior.”

“W-what?” you hate how pathetic you sound. You clear your throat and repeat your question without whimpering.

He just smiles, petting your hair. “Oh, darling. You should know better by now. I am the King. You can try to run away, but from now on, thanks to your own deal, you won't make it very far. Which saves me tons of headaches.” You don't understand how. But you know one for sure….

He tricked you.

He is now preventing you from leaving. Forever maybe. “You-” That bastard.

Aemond smirks and continues to send you down your path of Pleasure. You roll your eyes in your head as you finish on his fingers with a cry of need and desperation. He watches you closely enjoying your undoing. He removes his fingers from your wet cunt and smirks when he sees the damage.

His fingers are wet. He brings his fingers to his own lips and begins to lick them off. “Soon you'll be my wife. I want you prepared for that roll.” You won't be his anything.

“You tricked me!” You hiss angrily.

“Well you tried tricking me first.” He chuckles, not offended at all. He saw through your scheme and boops your nose, kissing your forehead. “My little dark Petal has sprouted. You think you can trick me after just a taste of darkness? My darling…” He laughs as if you are an adorable little animal that tried to bite him. “Not that running away without the deal would've been…I didn't lie about you being chained to me. You can't leave my side. Ever.” You wonder what would happen if you did. Would you be pulled back or killed?

“Yet I slept here. When you went off to-” You don't even know where he was off to. With who. Where. Or what he was doing.

Aemond sighs but unveils his plans.

“Collect souls.” That makes sense and the way his bored voice tells you it is true and apparently much less exciting than you imagined.

“-whatever, I slept here. Alone.” You point that out.

He exhales deeply, touching your horns gently with great care. “The chain allows us some freedom. But you can't leave the Underworld or the castle without my authority.” So that is how far the chain reaches. You could spend your time hiding away from him. But he'd find you. And so would his servants who are all except Ann eager to cut your limbs off and to slit your throat.

“I thought the Underworld was the castle?” You thought it ended there. That the castle itself was the Underworld. That there was no true roamable outside.

His eye lights up when he smiles sincerely, He takes you by the hand and drags you to the big balcony, showing you the now clear skies and big Fields. He proudly shows it to you, studying your reaction and eager to know what you think of his kingdom. “No, my dear. There’s an entire world. Rivers in every Colour. Stones and rocks and grass. It's as much alive as the world above. Just a bit different.”

You look at the colorful picture in a place full of darkness. “How is this possible? This place is supposed to be the worst isn't it? It is supposed to be death?” It doesn't make sense.

Aemond however has an answer prepared.

“Where death dances, life often comes to watch. You can't have life without death and you can't have death without life. It's a scale. The two must remain in perfect harmony. In balance.” That makes sense. In a way. It makes perfect sense.

“Why keep me in the castle, then?” You stare at the beautiful horned animals outside eating grass near a river that has a pure blue colour. Aemond sighs, clearly dreading answering that question.

“For your own protection. I have many enemies who want to hurt you. And the Underworld is not like the one above. It looks beautiful but plants and stones and even grass itself can be dangerous.” Grass can be dangerous? You do remember a Dothkraki friend who told you the same in the orphanage. You found it strange then. But now? Now you believe it.

Aemond dresses you in your robe again. “I'll have Ann arrange breakfast for you. Try to make peace with your destiny. Try to find balance. Because without balance, it will feed on you. On yourself, on your soul, on all there is.” He is preparing to leave you. You would like that. You need some time alone to think.

“Welcome home, my love. That we may spend the entirety together.” He walks to the doors as if he's a normal person. He walks out, closing the doors behind him gently. You remain near the balcony staring outside with more questions than answers and two new horns.

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