#god bless these doomed lovers

[rubys-forest]

Saw someone else do this so decided to do it with my shadow milk x oc thingy!!

[princesssarisa]

In the past I've shared other people's musings about the different interpretations of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Namely, why Orpheus looks back at Eurydice, even though he knows it means he'll lose her forever. So many people seem to think they've found the one true explanation of the myth. But to me, the beauty of myths is that they have many possible meanings.

So I thought I would share a list of every interpretation I know, from every serious adaptation of the story and every analysis I've ever heard or read, of why Orpheus looks back.

One interpretation – advocated by Monteverdi's opera, for example – is that the backward glance represents excessive passion and a fatal lack of self-control. Orpheus loves Eurydice to such excess that he tries to defy the laws of nature by bringing her back from the dead, yet that very same passion dooms his quest fo fail, because he can't resist the temptation to look back at her.

He can also be seen as succumbing to that classic "tragic flaw" of hubris, excessive pride. Because his music and his love conquer the Underworld, it might be that he makes the mistake of thinking he's entirely above divine law, and fatally allows himself to break the one rule that Hades and Persephone set for him.

Then there are the versions where his flaw is his lack of faith, because he looks back out of doubt that Eurydice is really there. I think there are three possible interpretations of this scenario, which can each work alone or else co-exist with each other. From what I've read about Hadestown, it sounds as if it combines all three.

In one interpretation, he doubts Hades and Persephone's promise. Will they really give Eurydice back to him, or is it all a cruel trick? In this case, the message seems to be a warning to trust in the gods; if you doubt their blessings, you might lose them.

Another perspective is that he doubts Eurydice. Does she love him enough to follow him? In this case, the warning is that romantic love can't survive unless the lovers trust each other. I'm thinking of Moulin Rouge!, which is ostensibly based on the Orpheus myth, and which uses Christian's jealousy as its equivalent of Orpheus's fatal doubt and explicitly states "Where there is no trust, there is no love."

The third variation is that he doubts himself. Could his music really have the power to sway the Underworld? The message in this version would be that self-doubt can sabotage all our best efforts.

But all of the above interpretations revolve around the concept that Orpheus looks back because of a tragic flaw, which wasn't necessarily the view of Virgil, the earliest known recorder of the myth. Virgil wrote that Orpheus's backward glance was "A pardonable offense, if the spirits knew how to pardon."

In some versions, when the upper world comes into Orpheus's view, he thinks his journey is over. In this moment, he's so ecstatic and so eager to finally see Eurydice that he unthinkingly turns around an instant too soon, either just before he reaches the threshold or when he's already crossed it but Eurydice is still a few steps behind him. In this scenario, it isn't a personal flaw that makes him look back, but just a moment of passion-fueled carelessness, and the fact that it costs him Eurydice shows the pitilessness of the Underworld.

In other versions, concern for Eurydice makes him look back. Sometimes he looks back because the upward path is steep and rocky, and Eurydice is still limping from her snakebite, so he knows she must be struggling, in some versions he even hears her stumble, and he finally can't resist turning around to help her. Or more cruelly, in other versions – for example, in Gluck's opera – Eurydice doesn't know that Orpheus is forbidden to look back at her, and Orpheus is also forbidden to tell her. So she's distraught that her husband seems to be coldly ignoring her and begs him to look at her until he can't bear her anguish anymore.

These versions highlight the harshness of the Underworld's law, and Orpheus's failure to comply with it seems natural and even inevitable. The message here seems to be that death is pitiless and irreversible: a demigod hero might come close to conquering it, but through little or no fault of his own, he's bound to fail in the end.

Another interpretation I've read is that Orpheus's backward glance represents the nature of grief. We can't help but look back on our memories of our dead loved ones, even though it means feeling the pain of loss all over again.

Then there's the interpretation that Orpheus chooses his memory of Eurydice, represented by the backward glance, rather than a future with a living Eurydice. "The poet's choice," as Portrait of a Lady on Fire puts it. In this reading, Orpheus looks back because he realizes he would rather preserve his memory of their youthful, blissful love, just as it was when she died, than face a future of growing older, the difficulties of married life, and the possibility that their love will fade. That's the slightly more sympathetic version. In the version that makes Orpheus more egotistical, he prefers the idealized memory to the real woman because the memory is entirely his possession, in a way that a living wife with her own will could never be, and will never distract him from his music, but can only inspire it.

Then there are the modern feminist interpretations, also alluded to in Portrait of a Lady on Fire but seen in several female-authored adaptations of the myth too, where Eurydice provokes Orpheus into looking back because she wants to stay in the Underworld. The viewpoint kinder to Orpheus is that Eurydice also wants to preserve their love just as it was, youthful, passionate, and blissful, rather than subject it to the ravages of time and the hardships of life. The variation less sympathetic to Orpheus is that Euyridice was at peace in death, in some versions she drank from the river Lethe and doesn't even remember Orpheus, his attempt to take her back is selfish, and she prefers to be her own free woman than be bound to him forever and literally only live for his sake.

With that interpretation in mind, I'm surprised I've never read yet another variation. I can imagine a version where, as Orpheus walks up the path toward the living world, he realizes he's being selfish: Eurydice was happy and at peace in the Elysian Fields, she doesn't even remember him because she drank from Lethe, and she's only following him now because Hades and Persephone have forced her to do so. So he finally looks back out of selfless love, to let her go. Maybe I should write this retelling myself.

Are any of these interpretations – or any others – the "true" or "definitive" reason why Orpheus looks back? I don't think so at all. The fact that they all exist and can all ring true says something valuable about the nature of mythology.

[smokey07]

Random thoughts

The three princesses of Sparta reflect and at the same time contradicting the three goddesses in the judgement of Paris.

Clytemnestra is the most powerful queen of Achaea, as wife of Agamemnon, similar to how Hera as the queen of the gods is the wife of Zeus. She however, is the Hera who cheated and succeeded in revenging her husband. (Their reasons are different ofc)

Helen is the most beautiful woman of Achaea (like Aphrodite the most beautiful goddess), but whose beauty doomed her to be the face who launched a thousand ships. Yet she was able to actually remarried, while Aphrodite only keeps Ares as lover.

Penelope is cunning and wise like Athena. She was blessed with the talent to weave. But unlike Athena who physically participates in fight, Penelope flights in more passive ways for obvious reasons. And she got married.

[brutalfantasytarot]

pick a card tarot reading: truth vs fiction

what you think is happening vs what is actually happening.

study the images. which one are you drawn to most?

[left to right]

pile one: the emperor / ace of swords (reversed)

what you think is happening: ace of swords (reversed)

you think you're doomed. that you will never find a stable, loyal, faithful partner. you think that all people are the same and no one is ever going to give you the partnership you desire. you think all people are cheaters and just want flings. you think you're never going to get that love you've been dreaming of for some time now.

what's actually happening: the emperor

truth is, a stable, loyal, faithful person is in your future. you will definitely fall in love with someone and this person is going to fall in love with you too. in fact, this person is going to be the lover that you have always been. the roles are going to be reversed a bit here. while you're the one who always does everything and goes out of their way for the partners, this person is going to fulfill your role. you will be loved the way you love.

you may be dealing with the spirit of rejection. look into this, rebuke it, and watch your life change for the better! 💘

pile two: the hanged man, eight of wands

what you think is happening: the hanged man

you think that you're going to be hanging in suspension forever. you think this is it. you're always going to be the last one. you're always going to be left behind and forced to watch other people live your dreams while you cry and beg for change. you think your life has 'ended' in a sense. like you're going to be at a standstill forever.

what's actually happening: eight of wands

realistically, an arrow has to be held in suspension for a bit before it shoots forward. yes, you have been stagnant for some time, but that's alright. we're all on different paths with different timelines. and you are about to enter the timeline of your dreams. it's all happening for you. and you're going to laugh is disbelief when you look back in five years as your future self to this point in your life right now. god has not forgotten you. he never will.

it seems you may be struggling with the spirit of delay. look into this and rebuke it. watch those blessings flow! 🖤

💞💋

Etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 💜

[melancholicstation]

GOD BLESS AMERICA AND ALL THE BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN IT —HUSBAND!JACK SCHLOSSBERG COMFORT HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸

jack schlossberg fan fiction is for the lovers

WIFE!READER returns and is the orion carloto archetype, who balances modelling and writing, and i imagine her making tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce on tiktok.

taglist: @candyneckl6ce @rocker-chick-7 @ultr4v1ol3nt @violetharmonsfavgf @strip-weather-forecast @darcyspirits @fortheloveofjos @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @bluelancergirl @snowsgames @salvatoresablondie @dulcegal @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @kimcrystal123 @absurdlyvintage @jackiesgirl @chemicalw0rld @remotewatch @starsprangledgirl

no matter the stressor husband!jack literally treats it as a top-priority emergency

immediately goes to start a bath for you in your gorgeous copper bathtub (cause of course you have a copper bathtub ... duh) with some suzzane kaufman bath salt's that he picked up down in greenwich after a meeting with vogue's magazine department.

husband!jack is a freak for baths and it's rubbed off on you ... seriously like that man takes baths multiple times a week, on top of daily showers

if he had to be out on a day you were particularly anxious for whatever reason he would come home with a laundry bag of new tasteful yet cute stuffed animals from loewe and never tell you the prices cause he knows you'd crash out

is great at being a body pillow and has no shame just laying in silence together for hours

would try to make you feel better by getting the overpriced (not in your opinion) criterion subscription just so you could watch vintage halloween movies without running a risk of getting hacked on some third-party sketchy website

would 100% let you live in his clothes while he was out of the house so you could feel comforted even if he wasn't physically near

would absolutely try to distract you with light comedy, despite his cockiness he is indeed a funny guy so it helps slightly

husband!jack would be such a proponent of a healthy mind is a healthy body so he'd make you go do jump rope with him (cause why does jump roping have to be so humiliating) or even worse takes you out to paddle board, like imagine your knee-deep in that melancholic state where you only read plath novels and listen to unreleased lana and your boyfriend drags you out to go paddle boarding???? like cmon now

you do feel better afterwards but you would never tell him that

if you guys owned any pets together he would without a doubt tell you he's going to be out for a couple of hours and come back with one of those portrait paintings of house-pets to cheer you up (editors note: vang olsen mimi does the most delightful pet paintings if your in greenwich!)

he would absolutely NOT be above trying to self-medicate your problems (within reason) by smoking w*ed with you or sharing a cigar being the chicest couple ever!

would 100% smother you in delightfully soft cashmere blankets in the pattern of gorgeous tapestries

would earnestly read poems (robert frost, emily dickinson, and shakespeare) to you to get you to sleep on the especially hard days

is a devout optimist and routinely talks you out of your doom scrolling

always holds space for whatever emotions you are feeling but always wants to provide solutions to your problems

and when he encounters a problem he can't so easily fix he invests time into getting your mind off it and plans steps you can take to lessen the hold whatever your stressing about has on you

writes mini impromptu love letters/pep talks on the empty spaces in your agenda notebook (wife!reader would totally own more than 1 of these louise carmen organisers in an apropos shade of autumn scarlet )

encourages you to do self-care rituals with your staple skincare products by letting you do the exact same steps on him

while husband!jack cooks for you both you read him your favourite chapters of "democracy" by joan didion in the kitchen every night and it remains a pillar in your routine despite the tumult

during your hard times jack is serving peak husbandry doing the washing, cooking and cleaning

when he's on his lunch break at the office you get text messages like this:

always makes sure that you take your medication (if you take any) at the exact times its supposed to be at and has little alarms on his phone

husband!jack would increase his acts of service to 1000% like that man would be taking your row boots into the cobbler for a new sole

would bring home flowers without a special occasion, just cause

would without a doubt bring out those STELLAR accents just to see you smile

disclaimer: this is all obviously fiction and i do not know this man nor how he calms anyone down, this is all for some fun distraction in these trying times.

to anyone struggling with the results and its ramifications (same here) i would really encourage you to read this beautiful (free) essay from alanabanaxox on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/i-miss-dancing-115580140?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_fan&utm_content=web_share

[samptlay]

♡ ⁠◍⁠• Skin That Cries Golden Tears • Chapter 1 ◍⁠

◍⁠ Summary:

It had to be by God’s will that your life had come to a short end. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26? Well, what should have been the end of your life when your ex killed you off for rejecting his love once again. So you were definitely in a haze when you woke up at the highest peak at Qingyun Peak on a floating island, inside your favorite game.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. 

However, you were too precious, perfect, and good for everyone else. So he decided. If he couldn’t have you, no one would. Hence the downfall of your life. Or the uprising? The people of Teyvat are sure to make your arrival a pleasant experience, after all, they’ve been expecting you for centuries.

It had to be by God’s will. Why else would he allow you to get pushed off of a bridge and drown to your death, at the age of 26?

It wasn’t fair. It wasn't your fault. Why did he hate you so much? You let him go, told him to move on, that you would even bless him with his newfound lover. Even if he didn’t stay loyal, even if he begged on his knees to have a chance of making things right. Though there wasn’t anything that could change your mind, cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. It means you have no respect for your partner and no loyalty. Both those things are required if a couple wants to last. Without them, the relationship is doomed to fail, which is what happened.

However, that could never be the end, not for you or him. 

Greedy. too greedy, and so, so selfish. He couldn’t let go. He couldn't move on, even with another woman waiting for him at home. He couldn’t take a step forward in life, knowing that someone could sweep you off your feet at any moment. Knowing that your heart can belong to another. Knowing that he’d be replaced eventually.

So he believed it would be best if the possibility of that happening is zero.

Why did you trust him? “For closure”, he told you. So, initially being the soft-hearted being you are, you meet up with him. Agreeing to meet in the middle of your local bridge where everywhere is surrounded by water positively wasn’t the smartest decision of your life. While you thought he was late, he had been just on time creeping up behind you while you were looking at the vast ocean. And in the next moment, you feel familiar arms wrapping around your waist. You let out a long exhale, knowing it’s him. You used to smile every time you felt his touch, but not anymore.

“Didn’t you say we’re meeting for closure? This should be the last time we see each other before going our separate ways, so I don’t know why you’re touching me. I don’t think we misunderstood what we meant by closure. It’s nothing intimate.” You feel the arms around you tighten, and you wonder for a split second if this is the best situation to be in. You should have stuck to that thought.

“Mh. It is the last time we’ll see each other.” You felt uneasy with the way he was saying that. It was making you nauseous. “But I’m giving you one more chance. Come back to me. It’ll be better this time, I won’t make the same mistake again. Why do you have to be this difficult?” The grip was getting tighter, and you felt as if the oxygen flow from your brain was becoming less frequent. But you still felt the annoyance grow in your body. Did he have no shame? “You have to be joking. Even with your what, fiance living with you right now, you still want more? Even if that woman has no respect for me, it's human decency not to have an affair with someone.”

You could tell that he didn't like the words coming out of your mouth. You could tell you were safe and needed to get out of her, quickly, desperately. But his grip was becoming threatening, and it was getting harder and harder for you to breathe.

“It's disappointing. We really could have had it all, if only you were willing to cooperate.” The words that leave his mouth are followed by what feels like a really hard punch to your back. Suddenly, your body falls limp and he catches you. You weakly reach for your back and quickly discover a knife. The person you once called the love of your life had stabbed you, and there's now blood trickling down your back, it's running cold rather than warm.

“W-Why-” You could barely get anything out as your vision was seeing little black dots. When you felt that he was picking you up, you couldn’t help but want to vomit at the thought of what he might do to your body. “Don’t worry, I'll let you rest in peace. Well, as peaceful as the ocean floor gets.” You want to scream, but nothing’s coming out. It shouldn’t be a surprise he can read your expressions by how long you were together, but you wished the past had never happened. Wished you never even gave him the time of day. Now you know why it’s no wonder his lover before you left the country. Why did you stay? Why didn’t you see the signs? 

From what you could still see, he’s tying something to your neck that you’re sure is supposed to act as a weight. Meaning that once you go in, you're most likely not coming back out. Not even for your own funeral, they won’t find the body. It breaks your heart. You don’t want to die. You don’t want to leave so much behind.

With one more breath from your lungs, he leans down and kisses you. How disgusting. He wouldn’t even allow you to rest in peace. It shouldn’t be that much of a shocker, but it still baffles you, and stuns you into silence. You don’t move, don’t breathe. You’re frozen, all up until he’s holding you over the railing, and your heart is in your head, your whole body’s shaking.

“Goodbye, love.”

Those were the very last words you heard before plummeting to your death.

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The water is cold, you’re shivering.

You can see red water, or what’s most likely your blood floating around you.

The stab wound in your back aches, you want the paint to go away.

The black spots in your vision are growing. 

You reach out for the surface but you’re sinking.

The weight attached to your neck just makes it harder to breathe, to move. 

This isn’t what you wanted.

You just wished to be admired, loved, cherished. Just as you did for everyone else, even if it hurt you.

Even if it eventually led to your death.

~

Ǔ̷̷̵̸̴̢̡̯͕̻̝̻͈̝̺͕̲̣͍̩̻̫͓̰́͌ͥͣ̒ͥ̒̇̈́̽̎͊ͮͣ́͘͡͡͞Ȉ̶̢̨̖̼̻̦͍͔͖̱͙̩͔̟͊͂̓̇̉̄ͯ̓́̋̄̿͌̾̐ͯͯ͌̌ͣ̿̏̽͜͞D̨̡̡̛͚̙̺̜̮͔̲̙̙̹̳̰̪̬͓ͫ͆̊͑́͋̉ͬ̑̓͂ͧ̎̿̀̕͟͞͠:̶̷̸͎͓̙̗̭̳̣͚̲̫͍̘͇̳̹̈́ͨͯ̊ͨ͋̏̆͒̒̎̓̍̆̍͘͢͝ 6ͫ͒̃͋5͙̹̱̖ͯ͌̄̄̿͗͘_̜̣̻̃̋4͕͂ͨ2̧͙̻͚͎̲̦̼͋̒͗͋ͬ͊̔̋̑ͯ͐̒̓͟͡͠ͅ6̸̷͖̲͙͕̠͓͚̠̬̲͉̞̗̼̭̒̀ͦ̊̏̊ͣͮ͆͒̔͋͂͊͑ͫ͑͛̍̀͞͝5͇̰͎̰͖̟̳̜͑̌̒ͧͪ̃ͤ̉͑́́͛̅͟͜8̴̧̢͇͔͖͉̳̠̪̲͎̫̙̪̃̑̀̑͊̃͑͊ͦ̒̓̂̈͂ͮͦ͘͠ͅ_̶̠_͔̂͒͢͡0̴̢̥͖̖̺͇̼͚͔̣̺̩̗̠͛̃̽͢͞ͅ6̹_̨̞̥ͫͬ̒ͫ͘͟͟_̷̨̥͓̲̞̿̽͆̅ͨͯ_̵̘̬̖ͤ��̌ͧͨͫͦ͟

Loading…..

Player’s Soul detected, transferring now….

Welcome, Creator.

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A Seelie was floating in front of your face. Blue, alive, breathing, moving. In front of your face. In front of your eyes. You lie motionless on the grass for a few seconds before jolting up with a screech. While doing so, you collide with the Seelie, which feels like flowing silk, the smoothest thing you’ve felt on your skin.

Is this heaven? Or am I just having a very long and realistic dream? Isn’t that an entity from Genshin?  So you’re dreaming about a game that you gamble your soul away to…. Okay. But out of all of them, couldn’t it have been HSR? You feel like you’d have a better chance of surviving there.

…

This is not a dream, is it?

Okay, fine. You died, you remember that very vividly when you were in a literal sense, dragged down to your death. So the universe has decided to grace you with a second chance at life. In an open-world survival game. How gracious.

You can’t lie in flowy grass forever. Even though the moon light makes it perfect. You’re living in a fantasy world, everything is possible.  anything could happen. To you. You have to be smart about this, you can’t just appear out of nowhere and act clueless and all lost. You’ll be questioned immediately and might as well get yourself killed. No matter what nation you go to, who could explain what has happened to you? You’d like to know, but you wouldn’t want to go back. Some things are just better outside the real world. There are no serious politics, no pollution, and no war if you ignore whatever’s happening in Natlan. No absolute need to work a 9 to 5. 

Gathering the courage, you finally get up from the ground and observe your surroundings. Right by your feet, there’s a Windblume. You must be in Mondstant. In all honesty, it’s always been your least favorite nation. Uneventful and quiet. You could live a simple farm life in Liyue. It would be quiet, as long as you avoid Hilichurls.

Speaking of which, while you’ve been standing still and daydreaming about your thoughts, there’s been a distant sound of what seems like life yelling and footsteps getting closer and closer to you.

You finally snap out of it and look behind you, seeing two Hilichurls and one giant Lawachurl heading straight for you. 

Shoot.

You screech and start sprinting, but they’ll catch up in what, 20 seconds?

“Hey, you! Get down, as in right now!”

You can’t tell where the manly voice is coming from but faced with a split-second decision, you instinctively crouch down, shielding your head for safety. All you can hear is the fluttering of a bird and the sensation of heat rushing overhead. You can only catch a glimpse of red hair in a low ponytail.

Edit: I just realized that the summary says you wake up in a different place than Chapter 1. So sorry about this, it's still accurate but it just isn't the first place you wake up.

A/N: Life happened. This is long overdue so thank you all for the wait and sorry and all the empty promises. I'm back, however. I'll go back to my 1-2 week schedule. I found it easier to do with school in session, somehow. But I hope you all enjoyed Chapter 1. I'll make a Masterlist soon.

Sorry if I tagged you twice!

Taglist: @esthelily @cosmo112 @fantasyhopperhea @ilxina @aloflapse

@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve @cluelesstoeverything @strangersomeone @lapinaenmicoche @alwayslegendarymoon @lumiiiiiiiiii @superninjaarbiter @@lexal-amber-rose

Borders by @cafekitsune

[ifishouldvanish]

The idea of Olrox being from Cholula specifically makes me so insane. Like would he have identified more as Mexica? Or as Tlaxcaltec? Would he have been loyal to the Tlaxcaltec and allied with the Spanish only to get screwed over like his Mohican lover did in the colonies? Would he have done so thinking he could get the upper hand in the end just like Mizrak/Emmanuel thought the Order could with Erzsebet?

"He thinks the devils he manufactures will be enough to destroy her when the time comes. What do you think? Do you think he's right?" - S1E4

Even after the fall of Tenochtitlan, nobility from all over the region would have been sent to Cholula to get the blessing of Cholulan priests for their legitimacy. How might this have fueled his disdain for nobility?

Olrox: "I prefer my blood blue."

Drolta: "Maybe you do things differently in the new world, but over here we don't feed off the wealthy. The locals will start to grumble." - S1E5

As a Mexica citizen, this disdain could come from resentment toward sumptuary laws, the increasing lack of socioeconomic mobility during Moctezuma's rule, and frustration with how he handled the Spanish... But as a Cholulan sympathetic to Tlaxcala, there's so much more???

It could come from frustration with leadership that defected from the very people who helped them elude Mexica rule in the years before the Spanish conquest. Anger at a decision that economically obliterated the Tlaxcaltec, who became completely surrounded by Mexica member-states? Regret at how much it cost them to 'overthrow' the Mexica? Grief at how this kind of political/military opportunism helped lead the wider indigenous population to its demise?? Like the latter is so much more thematically ripe for a show tackling colonialism and imperialism imo???

"This one? He was just an opportunist, following the Messiah because she's powerful." - S1E4

I mean!!?? Think about how the implications of all of this... *gestures wildly* stuff would lead him to adopt such a cynical, morally ambiguous worldview? This sense that it's all doomed, that he's not strong enough to fight it? Resist and fall to your enemies, or work with them only to lose parts of your identity in the process? Think about how the brutality of the Cholula massacre recontextualizes eurocentric perceptions of the brutality of flower wars and ritual sacrifice??? How it would leave you with anger and pain and an unyielding need for justice?

"Little boy Belmont. I know that feeling. That pain, that hate, that burning, unendurable need for retribution." - S1E1

Think about how the Mexica Empire had adopted Huitzilopochtli (war, sacrifice) as their primary patron deity, and the Tlaxcaltec Mixcoatl/Camaxtli (the hunt, fire)... Yet Olrox's form seems to be based on Quetzalcoatl (wind, knowledge, rebirth, among other things)–the deity the great temple at Cholula was dedicated to.

A handful of mesoamerican deities are associated with serpents/have names ending in '-coatl', but Olrox's serpent form clearly has a feathered crest—the 'quetzal-' in Quetzalcoatl.

But Olrox's abilities also seem to include lightning/thunder, which are associated with Tlaloc, who the Cholulans seemed to have adopted as their central deity some time before the Spanish conquest.

Quetzalcoatl is only associated with storms sort of tangentially, through his aspect as the wind god, Ehecatl. The Florentine Codex refers to Quetzalcoatl-Ehecatl as sweeping the roads to make way for the rain and the thunder.

Think about how in Tlaxcaltec accounts, Cholula–being a sacred city–had no real military to speak of and depended on their gods to protect them???

Mizrak: "There's only one God. Just one. That's the only thing I'm sure of. And I've spent my whole life serving him, fighting for him. That hasn't changed, and it never will." Olrox: "One god... And you think he can protect you?" - S1E4

Like... What does it all mean???? 🫠🫠🫠

Agshsjdkdkfll *screams into a pillow* I am so excited for season 2 but whatever happens Cholulan Olrox is canon in my heart y'all

[gotranting]

The Winter Feast - Part Two

Cregan Stark x Female Northern reader Summary: The last celebration before Winter comes. A time when blessings and protection are sought from the Old Gods. A time of feasting and song before the biting blizzards arrive. A time to indulge in all pleasures before survival becomes the only thing that matters.

A/N: You can technically read this without part one as that was an introduction to the characters. English is not my native language, and any constructive criticism is welcome! ...I think the grammar is in order. Would hope so. *Hides behind the Wall*. Is it too sappy? Warnings: smut at the end, slight breeding kink, fluff, minimal description of reader (red hair, brown eyes). I tried to use Y/N as little as possible. Hope you enjoy!

The Feast was a magical affair. Fire embers lit up the night sky as the sound of drums echoed through the forest.

Sat on a wooden bench, an elderly woman created all sorts of creatures with her hands, as the children around listened to the tales of monstrous beings beyond the Wall. Huddled next to each other, some shivered, others covered their eyes with their little hands, yet they could not stop listening to all the frightening details of each tale.

No matter where you turned, one could hear the chatter about all sorts of subjects. From shared worries about the oncoming winter, to idle gossip about the neighbour next door.

The sweetness of mead was felt heavily in the air as men and women joined together in their merrymaking – singing the Northern songs, their voices complimented the jolly tunes of drums and lutes.

...That is, singing was done by those who had not been defeated by one bottle too many. True, even those who decided to empty their tenth cup, before the Feast even began sang along. Although, many who heard those screeches hoped that the drunken sleep would take over as soon as possible and rid them of their misery.  

A lively affair indeed.

But the largest attraction stood proudly in the middle of the gathering. A massive bonfire, made specifically for the celebration. Its flames danced along with the common and highborn folk alike, all lost in their own music. Children ran around the fire, some folk danced on their own, elders were moving as much as their old bones allowed them to.

The young lovers, who wanted a blessing from the Old Gods, jumped over the blazing flames, hand in hand, as others cheered and wished them a long and healthy union.

And there, far away from the light of the flame, shielded by the deep green branches of the trees, were lovers who wished to dance to their own tune. Either they already jumped over the flames, or they did not care for such trivialities. Some tried to hide from disapproving members of their kin in order to have their own moment of peace, as bittersweet as it was for them.

One last moment of peace before Winter arrived. Last time for the folk to release all of their troubles, before survival became the only important matter in their life. This was a time of songs, dance and spending time with family or friends. For one knew that not all would survive the harshness of the arriving blizzards.

Sacrifices were brought to the Old Gods, in hope that they would protect them all. Food and drink covered the tables, while the rest of it was stored safely for the harsher times.

If there were any mischievous children trying to sneak into the pantry, Aida would welcome them. From then on, their plan was doomed to failure.

Same went for the young lads who tried to snatch away one more barrel of ale to their company. Woe to the man who was caught by the watchful eye of Aida.

„That wench is like a guard dog standing beside those barrels“, grumbled Arnolf as he tried to devise a strategy to get closer to them. At least one.

„You could always try and sweet-talk her dear friend“, laughed Osric taking a swig of his own mead.

„Tried it, and it did not work!“, Arnolf cried out, still in disbelief that his charm did not sway the old crone.

„Well, if you hadn't asked her if she wanted to join you in the forest and taste something far sweeter than mead, perhaps she would at least refrain from hitting you right after the words left your mouth“, Osric added.

„Oh, then you do it. Come on now, show us how it is done Lord Mormont. Let us see the mighty bear come alive!“

„Maybe I will dear friend if only so you would stop whining for a moment." Taking another swig, Osric glanced to his right.

"Or, we could send our Warden to use his wolfish charms on her. Instead of snapping his head to the crowd every time a redhead passes by.“

Cregan averted his gaze from the dancers, at the mention of his title. Aye, he sought the young sorceress, however he should do so with some resemblance of control.

Besides, he wasn't sure if she would even join the festivities in the end. Even though, the feast was the type of gathering she rarely missed out, her plans often changed. It was quite possible that she ended up celebrating on her own.

Or, whispered a voice in his head, she might already have company. Stormy eyes glanced at the darkness beyond the fire, his thoughts creating an image of her sprawled on the forest floor as some inexperienced boy tried to pleasure her in vain.

His grip tightened around his cup as another image appeared of her, only this time with a man – one who knew well how to make a woman cry out their name.

„Dear brother, whatever did that cup do to you?“

Too engrossed in his thoughts, Cregan did not even notice a new member joining their group. He scolded himself once more.

A Warden on whom thousands of people depend on, cannot allow himself to be taken by surprise like that.

Releasing the cup, he turned to his sister, as she beamed innocently at her older sibling.

„Sara“, he nodded, gruffly as she kept on grinning.

„You are looking the wrong way“, she muttered taking a swig from her cup.

„Am I now? And what exactly would I be looking at sister?“

Sara could only snort as her brother tried to seem disinterested.

Nodding off to the left, she watched Cregan's face softening as he noticed the young woman standing by the fire.

„My job here is done“, she turned to their friends, finding their banter far more amusing than her lord brother's incompetence in approaching a woman.

Cregan was in awe. What a sight she was.

Standing at the edge of the dancers, her curls resembled the very flames that surrounded her. She smiled fondly as another couple jumped over the fire, laughing as her friend dragged her into the crowd.

The drums were becoming louder. 

He watched as she twirled around with a black haired woman, both of them picking up the pace at the merry tune. Cregan's heart stuttered, as she threw her head to the night sky, releasing a wild cry along with the rest of the townsfolk.

Perhaps the Southerners were right in calling them savages. No matter. None in the crowd cared for any of the nicknames as they lost themselves in the roaring of the drums.

„You could join them you know? They would be glad to see their lord among them“, whispered Sara as she turned to him once more.

„I am among them, in order to protect them Sara, should something happen. A lord cannot just abandon all of his sense for a fleeting moment of pleasure.“

He could see the annoyance at his answer. His sister never failed to voice out her displeasure, and this time was no different.  

„Cregan, you are not one of those lordlings that cannot lift a finger without being instructed on how to perform each fucking movement. Aye, you are our Warden, but do you honestly think we expect you to be proper all of the time?“

Her tone softened at her next words, as she tried to catch her brother's gaze.

„The elderly here remember the small boy who ran through the town with his leathers all covered in mud. A boy that loved the company of the common folk, who loved to observe as the blacksmiths brought in new material for their weapons.“ A cheeky grin flashed over her face.

„A Northerner. If we wanted a proper Southern princeling, we would have made it known.“ 

As she recalled their childhood, Sara was well aware how fast it all changed after their father's death. Suddenly, most of their freedom was gone. Cregan had to adapt to his new title, as new problems appeared every day. He handled them well. But there was no time left for carefree rides through the northern tundra. No more time for competing in archery with his sister. No time to visit Y/N, as much as he wanted to.

The betrayal of their own uncle hardened the young lord unlike any battle he fought.

Starks valued family and honor above all else. Many Northerners did, no matter their last name.

It was an unbearable pain, witnessing to what lengths his own kin was capable of going to, in order to obtain power.

His uncle now rots in chains. It is still no easy task, to sentence one's own family to such a fate.

Now all grown up, Cregan was as gruff as any Northerner. Sharp with the greatsword, and ruthless to those who tried to use sweet words in order to hide the truth.

He was not as happy as he once was, Sara knew that. His attention was on the Wall, on helping his people to survive, and on ruling his country. Boyish dreams were forgotten.

Alas, she knew her brother was still capable of quick remarks, especially in the company of Arnolf and Osric. Or when he was with her.

Or, with the young woman whom he waited for the whole evening.

A wave of sadness washed over her as she witnessed how her brother kept seeking out her friend. Nudging his shoulder, she nodded towards the crowd.

„Go to them. ...Go to her. Allow yourself one night Cregan. Whatever it may bring.“ 

Cregan thought about his sister's words. His eyes found the redhead once more, right in the moment she leaped over the fire.

The drums thundered as the dance began to transform into something far more primal. He watched her eyes falling shut, as she followed her own rhythm. Curls ruffled by the wind would not stand still, as she spun around.

Sara only smiled as her brother left their table.

.

Y/N was startled to see Cregan walking towards her as she reopened her eyes.

Cloak left behind, it was easy to admire him dressed in leathers, the Stark sigil lying proudly over his chest. He always looked handsome, she thought with disdain. With the firelight as their only source of lightning, it all became a rather intimate scene as the pair met in the middle of swaying bodies.

„I thought you would already be lost in your own celebration somewhere“, Cregan greeted her, as he surveyed the people around them.

An unfamiliar woman had her legs wrapped around her partner, as they ground against one another. Another man's hands roamed over his partner's body as they moved towards the forest.

The children had left the bonfire, as the drums changed their pace. Mostly young men and women remained, as others either succumbed to their mead, or discussed other matters, not paying much mind to the dancers.   

„Later perhaps. I still owe a few drinks if I remember well.“ Although, seeing Arnolf and Osric barely sitting upright, perhaps drinks should be saved for some other time, she mused.

„I did not think you would partake in this part of the Feast lord Stark.“ She never expected him to, knowing that he preferred to keep to the sides.

„I did not plan to. Sara thinks it will do me some good“, he looked around him once more. „I'm not sure I remember the steps of this dance anymore.“

„It is certainly not the kind of dance they teach you in the great halls,“ the girl chuckled under her breath.

„Look around you Cregan, and follow the movements of others. There are no rules to this, one dances how they wish to, that is the beauty of it.“

Truly, each pair moved to their own tune. Cregan sought out someone who danced on their own, and found that only a few twirled without a partner by their side.

„It is not a dance for one person alone it would seem?“ he huffed out a breath as he stood unmoving. The sweat clad bodies around barely left any space between as they glided against one another.

...It was difficult to tell who collided with the young pair, but both were brought back from their observations as his hands grabbed her waist, luckily preventing them from falling.

She could feel each beat of the drum coursing through her as she gazed up at him, only to find grey eyes already boring into her.

He cared little for anyone around, his voice only heard by the two of them.

„Will you teach me?“

She found herself nodding before she had time to think anything through, her hands covering his own. Trying to hide her own nervousness, the little witch smirked at Cregan.

„Think you can keep up Lord Stark?“

The proper titles once more. He could not help but want to hear her teasing each morning.

Another image appeared in Cregan's mind. Both of them laying in his chambers. Him nipping at her neck each time the words lord left her mouth. Not that he would stop once she gave up and used his name. It was only imagination, yet he could hear so clearly each laugh that would escape her as he trailed over her more sensitive parts.

Her hands left his own, lightly trailing over his chest. Breath catching in his throat, he was brought to the reality.

The wind picked up, as the fire blazed behind.

„Dance how you wish to Cregan...“ the girl whispered, as she circled around him, her hands gliding over his back.

As if the vixen was unaware that if he were to move as he wanted to at that moment, he would have taken her without giving a damn who watched.

He had to let her set the pace. Cregan could not trust himself with her hands all over him.

Alas the self control did not last for long.

Hooded eyes met her as she stood in front of him once more. Cregan watched as she threw her head back, her eyes fluttering shut. Mouth falling open, as another laugh escaped her, he watched utterly spellbound as this girl in front of him allowed herself to be free. He wanted to be so as well. With her if she would let him.

Damn propriety.

In one swift motion, Cregan pulled her towards him, his hands wrapping underneath her thighs, lifting her into the night sky. Her smile turned into a gasp, as he watched what little of the brown hue in her eyes disappeared. Smiles fading, both tried to control their breathing in vain. Whatever control was left, it was bound to snap at any moment.

It snapped when the girl made the first move. When he felt her hips slightly rolling against him, as she tried to adjust in his arms. When he heard her gasp as she felt him hardening below her.

Cregan could excuse her the first time.

He could only groan the second time he felt her move against him, his head burrowing in the crook of her neck. His hips responded to her own, the scent of her making him lose what little sanity he had.

„Perhaps you do know the dance after all“, she gasped. Cregan only hummed against her, his lips busy with tracing an invisible line up her neck. She could barely feel his lips on her, as he seemed to enjoy torturing her.

She needed air. More so, she needed to stop him before he did something he would regret.

„Cregan, we can't...“ her sentence was lost in another quiet moan as he left an open mouthed kiss over her pulse point. She would've let him take her in that moment. Gods, she would let him do whatever he wanted right there. But one of them had to think rationally.

Feeling the graze of his teeth, she wasn't sure if she could achieve such a task. Still, she had to try. Cupping the back of his head, the girl pulled at his hair as grey eyes met brown once more. Or whatever little was left of the two colours.

He was beautiful like this. She wanted to see him without breath every day, as long as she was the cause of it.

No. She needed air.

Releasing the stone hard grip on him, the girl lowered herself back to the ground, but Cregan would not let her go, as he tried to memorize each part of her in this moment.

„You'll be the death of me“, he murmured, gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Pointless, as the wild mane just fell back where it was.

„A slayer of the Wolf in the North. Now, that is a title indeed“, she whispered back.

The way he looked at her. As if she was Nature herself in all her wildest glory. The word witch never fitted her better, than at this very moment. She could see the adoration in his eyes.

Dare she say, even love.

Her chest tightened in pain. Air. She needed air.

And yet...

„I propose a hunt Lord Stark.“

Cregan narrowed his eyes.

„If you catch me, you win. If not, I take the victory.“

„And when I find you? What then?“ He tried to catch her mouth, but the vixen moved on time, her lips leaving a chaste kiss on his cheek.

„Do not get ahead of yourself my lord.“

With a devilish glint in her eye, she blended into the crowd, red curls the only trace Cregan could follow.

He only stood there for a moment, before heading after her.

.

Moving between gasping bodies, she didn't dare turn in case he was nearby. It was a thrill she had to admit, knowing that he was trying to find her. Wondering what he would do if he did.

Being skillful when it came to hiding in the shadows, she thought herself hidden well enough. After all, she was not the only one with auburn hair among the folk.

Coming to the other side of the bonfire, surely she could stop for a moment to admire yet another couple leaping over the flames.

It was always endearing when they jumped, she thought. The leap itself was a simple enough task, yet it symbolized the trust that lovers held for one another.

By tradition, they crossed the flames together, in order to have their union blessed by the Old Ones. It was a way to make their intentions known, before they took their vows underneath the Weirwood Tree.

A binding ritual of sorts, it was never taken in a light manner by those who chose to go through it.

As she watched another happy pair, she wondered for a moment if such a fate was in store for her. Would she want it?

When she jumped before, it was only with the intention to ask for the blessing of the Old Gods. That she can continue to help her people, and everything around her. But to jump in order to bind herself to another man? Could she do it? Did she want to do it?

Her musings were cut short as two strong arms wrapped around her waist. The chase was over.

„Found you“, he murmured, as he nosed at the sensitive spot behind her ear, tickling her as he did so. She always smelled of fir, and various sorts of herbs kept on her all of the time. Cregan tried to focus on that, hoping that it would help him ground himself.

Her hands came to rest upon his once more, as she leaned back into the warmth of him. Cregan's head rested on her shoulder as they both looked upon the fire.

„Jump over the fire with me Y/N“, he left a soft kiss on her shoulder.

Her breath hitched in her throat at that. Turning her head slightly, she was met with the same warm look from before.

Another painful tug at her chest.

„That is a heavy request Cregan“, her eyes softened, no doubt reflecting the same feeling back at him.

„Mead and the heat of fire can damage a man's mind just as any poison...“

He cut her off before she could finish that thought.

„Tonight, tomorrow, in five years, or ten I would ask you the same question Y/N. The mead plays no role in this, my mind is clear.“ He almost sounded offended that she could even suggest that.

„I was yours when we first went horse riding as children.

I was yours when you taught me which herbs are used in treating the strongest of fevers.

I was certainly yours when we fought side by side a few moons ago.“ Cregan's voice could barely be heard as he nudged his nose against hers.

„I'm yours every time you bicker with me when you worry for my safety. Just as I do for yours.

I'm yours. My mind is clear on that matter.“

And she was his. Surely he had to know that. Cregan could feel her hands trembling as she returned the nudging back to him.

But they could not. If he was to bind himself to anyone, it would be to strengthen an alliance, at least that is what the other houses expected of him. A southern lady, or one from the Riverlands to bring the two houses together.

And she couldn't either. There was no possibility of her abandoning her home or the woods, in order to become a Lady of Winterfell. She was bound to the land. Managing a castle, and bringing up heirs was not her future.

Her smile faltered. „We both have a duty Cregan... you know we cannot.“

„Damn the duty. Tomorrow is not promised to us Y/N. Other lords would come to understand. They know you. And they respect you. They would have a fierce lady protecting them, just as you do now.“

„A Stark forsaking their vows? The world must truly be on the brink.“

He did not smile at her attempt at a jest. Sighing the girl tried once more. „The Northern lords would understand. Others would not. You need alliances Cregan, especially now when there is talk of another war brewing.“

A sad fate. To have them be in love without being able to act on it fully. Another pair jumped, as they got lost in their own thoughts, holding onto one another. As the lovers rushed somewhere into the woods, Cregan nosed behind her ear once more.

„Then let us have this night together. In the morning we will go back to what is expected of us.“

The witch turned in his arms. Another nuzzle.

„Spend the night with me Y/N.“ 

...There were no words for an answer. Only rushing into the shadows as the young lovers laughed breathlessly. If anyone noticed, they were happy for their Warden. Alas, not many did, too occupied as they were in their celebrations.

.

Abandoning the light of the fire, only the Moon lit their path as they ran deeper into the forest. It was truly a joyous sight to witness them so carefree, even amongst all the trouble in the world. Cregan lifted her again, twirling her in the air, as she let out a shriek of laughter.

As soon as the first tree shielded them from the view, her back was met with rough bark as Cregan's mouth crashed against hers.

There was no patience, years of holding back catching up with them at last. Hands fumbled around, as both of them tried to reach any part of exposed skin they could find, letting out frustrated noises as the layers of clothing only slowed them in their goal.

For Cregan it proved even more difficult, as the little vixen tugged at his lower lip, her tongue quickly lapping over the sensitive skin.

Groaning, he pulled back briefly to catch his breath, his forehead resting against hers.

"You're making me lose my mind woman," he rasped, as his thumb traced over her lips. Unable to restrain himself for too long, he pulled her back into a deeper kiss.

"I'm glad of it" she moaned, as he began to leave open mouthed kisses down her neck. "Gods Cregan..."

Cregan hummed at her words, his mouth trailing down to the hollow of her throat. He nipped at her skin, revelling in the taste of her.

It was frightening how she ruined him with only a few fleeting touches. Luckily, it seemed that he had just about the same effect on her.

"You're a sorceress," he mumbled against her skin, "I should lock you up for trying to seduce your lord." He was met with only a deep chuckle in response. She seemed to take it as a compliment.

Without warning, Cregan lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him, as he pinned her against the tree.

No prying eyes to worry about this time. They were free to do as they wished.

She could not help but laugh as he kept stealing small kisses from her, and each time she tried to deepen at least one, he withdrew far enough from her reach.

„You're not playing fair“, her eyes crinkled as he kissed the tip of her nose.

„If I'm to have you for this night alone, then I'll make love to you properly“, Cregan murmured, as he ground against her. She truly hoped no one was nearby, as a loud gasp echoed through the forest.

„I want to know what it would feel like to care for you each morning when you wake up“, another feather-like kiss to her cheek.

„I want to know each sound of pleasure you can make while I'm fucking you“, she tangled her fingers tightly in his hair, as grey eyes met brown ones.

„I want you. Even if it is only for tonight.“

Her hips met his thrusts as she watched him shut his eyes in pleasure. Releasing soft grunts each time her hips rolled against him.

Urging her on to keep doing so, just to hear him rasp her name again.

Putting more force into her next movement, Cregan lost his footing, pulling them both into the soft snow beneath them. He let out a breath as she fell on top of him, both laughing along before they continued to explore one another. She reached for the laces of his breeches, impatient now.

"Slowly little witch", he chuckled as he helped her with unlacing. Or perhaps he was of no help at all - distracting as he started peppering kisses along her neck, deciding right there that he loved how she stuttered when his mouth grazed over a specific spot.

Her turn, she thought. If he is to distract her, she would return the favour. Finally, moving the offending fabric aside, she wrapped her hand around him.

"Fuck, Y/N!"

Slowly stroking his length, Cregan let out a choked off moan, buckling involuntarily under her touch.

"Slowly, little wolf" she teased back. "We have all night". As if to emphasise her point, she slowed down her movements even more, gliding her finger back and forth only over the tip.

She was going to be death of him.

"If you keep that up", he barely ground out, "we won't last through the night."

"Good." she smirked, as her finger lightly traced under the head. Foreheads touching, both watched her hand sliding down his cock.

„Perhaps I want to see you come undone in my hands", she murmured. Each time his breathing became too laboured, she would put a stop to it all, loving to see him chasing after her. Loving to witness how his eyes scrunched shut in frustration, as he tried to control his breathing.

What she did not anticipate was for her skirts to be lifted, as Cregan roughly tugged her into his lap, thrusting hard along her slit. His mouth met her own, silencing both of their moans, as she tried to line him up to her entrance.

Steadying her with his hands, he would not allow her the full satisfaction. Even if it was torture for Cregan to feel her wetness, yet unable to fill her up as both of them wanted to.

They always matched each other, no matter what they did. If she was to tease him, he would show her exactly how that feels.

"Ride me."

A command uttered loud and clear, as stormy eyes observed the beauty above him.

There would be times for soft touches. Times when they would be able to fully explore each curve of one another.

He would come to her, or they would meet in secret once more.

It was foolish to think, they could keep apart after this night, no matter how much they kept lying to themselves.

She obeyed without question. Taking him into her hand, she lowered herself down, gasping as he filled her up completely. Breaths mingling, they clinged to each other, trying to adapt to the overwhelming pleasure.

After what seemed an eternity, two fingers at last tapped her hip, allowing her to set her own pace.

Cregan looked to the stars above them, as she started to slide up. Tightening her cunt every time she did so, his jaw clenched at the feeling, hands grasping her hips, sure to leave a mark on the morrow. Pleasure overtaking him, Cregan pulled her along, as his head met the soft ground.

He was beautiful underneath her. She watched his eyes shut in pleasure, his frown a reminder how hard he tried not to thrust into her.

She wanted him to take control. Wanted him as he was at the Feast. Without holding back.

Grazing her teeth over his ear, the girl mustered enough control to whisper. "Why do you hold back my love?"

With a sharp movement, she slid down until he was fully sheathed in her, leaving him completely out of breath from the sudden movement. „Fuck me Cregan...please. I want you to.“

He wasn't sure what made him buck sharply into her as deep as he could.

Perhaps it was hearing the profanities coming out of her mouth.

Perhaps, it was the fact she called him hers.

Cregan's hands guided her as she moved against him, as he tried to mark every part of her skin exposed to him.

"I want to taste you next time." An open mouthed kiss left on her neck.

"I want to feel you come undone from my mouth alone Y/N." His lips lowered.

When she cried out from the pain of his teeth marking her, he was quick to soothe her, his tongue lapping over the bruising mark.

A sharp tug on his hair, the girl pulled him back to her. Wanting to see him as he made those promises.

"And if I wanted to use my mouth on you lord Stark?"

A sharper thrust into her at the idea of it. As if she had to ask him.

"If I wanted to be the only one to pleasure you like this Cregan? Would you let me do so?"

"I'd let you do whatever you wished my lady." A breathless chuckle, as she limply smacked him in the arm at the nickname.

"I'm yours, and yours alone."

A heavy promise.

"As I am yours Cregan."

She begged him not to stop, crying out each time he hit the right spot, as only noises of skin against skin echoed through the air.

"I'm close" he choked out as she threaded her fingers through his hair, wrapping herself around him, fearing to let go. "Me too", she kissed the side of his cheek, her lips lingering there.

Pressing their foreheads together, stormy eyes met brown ones once more.

„Where do you want me to...“ "Inside...please. Inside, Cregan.“

It was difficult not to imagine what that could bring. At the thought of his seed taking hold in her, Cregan thrusted deeper.

Her arms wrapped possessively around him, not allowing him to spill anywhere but inside of her.

"Are you sure?" "Please."

Hips stuttering, he choked out her name, the sound muffled in her neck as she felt him spilling in her.

The lovers held onto each other, as they shook from their high. Barely any coherent words leaving their mouths, apart from sighs of each other's names.

...She must've whimpered as she clenched around him, for he was whispering sweet nothings to her, fingers tracing soothing patterns on her back, bringing her back to him.

Taking a moment to return to reality, Cregan nosed at the side of her head, urging her to look at him. Capturing her lips, the gesture was gentler than the previous they shared.

As the lust left them, he could not stop himself from leaving soft kisses over her face. From one on the cheek, to one on her nose, not finding it fair to abandon the other side.

Trying to catch her breath, the girl could still feel him inside of her as she moved. Feeling the mixture of them leaking down her thigh, a sudden shyness of what they had done started to grow, urging her to hide in the crook of his neck.

"What's this now?" Cregan murmured, his fingers gently caressing her back. "No need to be bashful, my heart."

He pulled her out of her hiding place, his hand under her chin, trying to catch her gaze. He looked at her for a moment, taking in the sight of her.

The curls were scattered in all directions. Red cheeks from the cold, and puffed lips, she looked completely wrecked. Cregan wished he could see her like that every day.

"Do not hide from me", his thumb traced the line of her jaw. "I want to see you. All of you."

Her eyes were filled with warmth as they met his own. Seeing the softness and love in them as he gazed upon her, she had to let him know. There was no point in holding back anymore.

„I'm yours...whatever may come, know that I'm yours Cregan.“

The words were not hasty mutterings, spoken in the moment of pleasure. He could see she had meant them.

„And I'm yours. From this day until the end of my days.“

Interlacing their hands he laid them between their hearts. The branches shielded the young lovers as they traded kisses, for however long the cold allowed them to.

True, they didn't jump over the fire tonight.

It mattered not.

They were bound to one another after that night, with the Moon as their witness.

It was amusing that both of them thought one night would be enough. They would always come back to one another, whatever may come.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending, Part 2

Hey y'all, so I did a part two of this because I love happy, insanely, fluffy romantic endings. So I'm going hard here. There will be one more part!

Also, don't judge my Gale x Shadowheart bs here 💀💀 Long story short, first playthrough that was abanadoned, I picked her orgin and did get sweeped up by the mage man. It has not left my brain since.

Also, this has a time skip! A pretty long one too (10 years)

~

Astarion had been having… thoughts lately. Ideas that he couldn’t quite shake. Nothing bad, no. There really wasn’t much to complain about in his life, not anymore. Not when he could walk in the sun freely, unburdened by parasites and his own vampiric nature. The two of you were free to explore the world with no shackles, not including your religious zealotry. And ironically enough, his own. 

Astarion would never have guessed that he’d ever become a Selune convert. Well… even now convert may have been to strong of a word. Yes, he was immensely appreciative for the whole sun immunity blessing and he did have a newfound respect for the work of her worshippers. But Astarion wasn’t exactly looking for a deity, or anyone, to be subservient to. Not again. No, he’d much rather watch his love do the dirty work for his savior than fully commit himself. Besides, just because he wasn’t devoted to Selune didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to you. Which might as well have been the same thing. 

Astarion loved you, adored you really, but gods could you be nonsensical at times. He was so happy the two of you had met because someone had to keep this idiotic fanatic alive. Someone to remind you that no darling, not everyone is redeemable. Please put the goblin down.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being your protector. It was the least that he could do considering everything you’d done for him. And he just… liked having a valid excuse to accompany you everywhere. Astarion had never imagined himself to be such a clingy lover, but here he was. The two of you had been attached at the hip for nearly a decade now, with no end in sight. You had built a life together, had friends together, adventures and celebrations that filled his days with endless excitement and amusements.

That is one thing Astarion had to give Selune and her worshippers, they didn’t exactly lead boring lives. Though he supposed half of that had to with just how involved the opposition was. The two of you had slaughtered enough acolytes of Shar over the years for him to know just how covert they really could be. But it wasn’t just bloodsport that made things interesting, though it certainly did help. The exploring for ancient artifacts definitely helped to fill the time, as well as the constant search to find a cure for the rest of his unholy symptoms. 

As great as being in the sun was, Astarion wasn’t quite satisfied with that being the end. It was almost certainly impossible to find a full on cure to being a vampire spawn but… that wasn’t stopping either of you from looking for it. It was morbid, but Astarion wanted his life to have an ending. A natural one like what he hoped for you, not one where he was doomed to immortality and bloodlust until the end of time. 

Thank the gods that he had managed to fall in love with an elf. It at least gave him centuries instead of decades to figure out a solution to an eternal problem. Which brought him back to his current problem. Because the two of you had many, many years ahead. And as far as Astarion was aware you both planned on spending them with each other. Which implied… certain things.

Astarion had never been someone to fantasize about marriage. He had no reason to, not when he had been too busy barely surviving. Even when things became serious between the two of you it hadn’t been on his mind. He was much more concerned with keeping you at all instead of keeping you forever. 

But that had changed recently. Maybe it was because he had seen you officiate countless weddings over the years; young couples always clamoring at a chance to get a newlywed Selune blessing. Or maybe it was how others took note of the lack of a ring on his finger, taking it as an opportunity for unwanted flirtation. But either way, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing about it really, as he was want to do when it came to you.

He just… didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. What was the reason? A silly little ceremony and a ring had no bearing on the depth of your relationship. He knew that. The two of you were bound to each other by choice, a love that felt as though it got stronger every day. But… it would be nice to have you in such a way. For the world to be aware of the seriousness of what you had together, shown simply through a pair of rings. And the thought of calling you his wife was quite enticing. 

He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hesitant to bring it up to you. Well… there was the slight delusional thought in his head that reminding you of forever could possible wake you up into realizing just how much better you could do than him. It wasn’t true, he was aware. But gods, your relationship had lasted a damn decade. When was he going to start feeling secure about all of this? 

It didn’t help when Gale of all people beat him to the punch. He and Shadowheart had developed quite the bond since your tadpole days. And your excitement over the announcement was adorable. Adorable enough for him to wonder just how you would react to it happening to you.

But he shoved his worries to the back of his mind, too busy being dragged all the way to Waterdeep for the week-long nuptials. You were highly involved in the wedding, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Shadowheart had stayed your best, most appreciated friend throughout the years, the two of you eternally tied through your shared goddess alone. You wrote to each other constantly and this was far from the first time you had dragged him across the realm for a visit. 

But this was probably the best time. He had to give the people of Waterdeep this, they knew how to celebrate. He wasn’t one to complain over a week filled of music, dance, and drink. The ceremony had been nice as well. Heart-warming even to watch Shadowheart walk down the aisle, smiling in a way she never could when she was devoted to Shar. With Gale sniveling at the other end and you officiating of course. 

The jealousy had been an unexpected touch. He couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like in her place. Dressed in white and silver, walking towards him with eternity in mind. 

It certainly wasn’t helping his dilemma, he could tell you that much. He was still thinking about it when they made it to the reception. It was impossible to bury thoughts of marriage when you were at a wedding. Would you want a large celebration like this? Or something more small and intimate? Hells, the two of you and a cleric in the middle of the woods would suffice to him. 

“To think, Astarion Ancunín at my wedding in the sunlight,” Gale laughed as he plopped down in the seat next to him, effectively putting an end to his internal fretting, “Who would have ever imagined?”

“Certainly not me,” Astarion scoffed with the slightest hint of a smile, “But I suppose things change.”

“I suppose they do,” Gale agreed, his eyes scanning the dancefloor for his new bride. There she was, dancing and giggling with you in the middle of ballroom,  “I just never expected it to be for the better.”

“It is a wonder that we’re all still alive,” Astarion agreed, smiling to himself when Shadowheart dipped you as you laughed hysterically, nearly falling over herself in the process, “Let alone being able to find love. Who would have thought the worshiper of the goddess of the dark would end up here.”

“Turns out she was hiding quite the personality behind the Shar mask,” Gale laughed, “Though I suppose we have Tav to thank for that. It was a real fight on who would have her as their best woman. A fight we both obviously lost. Though officiating seemed a good compromise.”

“She certainly has the experience,” Astarion sighed, “But I have a feeling this one will be her favorite. She’s happy for you two. We both are.”

“I’m happy for you too you know,” Gale added with a small smile, “I always thought the two of you would work out. I even made a killing in the pool we had going on for it.”

Astarion stared at him, brow raised, “You had a pool?”

“Oh absolutely,” Gale confirmed, completely shameless as he listed out the rules, “It got quite competitive after awhile. First, it was all about if you’d ever realize your feelings for her. Then when you went and did that we were betting on how long you’d both last before you left. And then when that didn’t happen, well. Let’s just say I got a few platinums richer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at the news, barely even surprised, “I feel as though I’ve earned a cut of that.”

“Unfortunately it’s now our honeymoon fund. But I’ll owe you one.”

That was another aspect of this whole debacle that Astarion hadn’t even thought about. But gods, did it sound nice. Whole weeks dedicated strictly to the two of you. No religious duties or adventures to worry about, just… them. 

The joy of the thought must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew Gale was looking him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “What’cha thinking about over there?”

“That this wine is mediocre at best,” Astarion lied, avoid Gale’s eyes, “Tell me you at least got a good deal on it?”

But Gale wasn’t taking the bait. He was still watching him like a hawk. That was the problem with getting closer to people, and having, gods friends. 

You had to deal with the discomfort of being read like a book, “Does our little Astarion want to be wed?”

Astarion flinched at the accuracy, taking the time to shoot him a glare as he avoided the question, “I am nearly three centuries older than you.”

“Perhaps, but we both know two of them don’t count,” Gale said, barely missing a beat, “So tell me, do you already have a ring picked out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can help you pick one you know, there are many fantastic jewelers in Waterdeep. I believe she has the same ring size as Shadowheart, we can bring her along.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the small blush creeping up his neck, “I want you to know that if this wasn’t your wedding day I would have slapped you by now. Consider my reluctance as your wedding present.”

“How generous of you,” Gale chuckled. But then he started to speak quieter, his voice taking on a more gentle and serious tone, “She would say yes you know. You’ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you held that dagger to her throat.”

That was an exaggeration, but Astarion would be lying if he said the mention didn’t make him preen the slightest bit, “You forget that I did have competition.”

“Oh, barely,” Gale laughed, “You don’t get to reminisce of what could have been when you won. Gods, no one had any chance against you. And trust me, we tried.”

Astarion blinked at him, more than a little surprised, “You did?”

“Of course we did. We all did. What do you think Shadow and I bonded over? But the pining stopped eventually. Then it became…something more. Something deeper. She’s… a magnificent woman, my little shadow. Who has gone through too much…” Gale trailed off, his eyes still following his bride as he softly smiled,  “Suffice to say, neither of us are pining anymore. And I’m sure Shadow would love nothing more than to help plan her dearest friend’s nuptials.”

“Who ever said that you two would be involved?” Astarion scoffed, just to be an ass, “For all you know we’ll elope in Neverwinter.”

But Astarion’s grip backfired, if the smile on Gale’s face meant anything, “So that means you are going to propose?”

Oh for fucks sake. Astarion glared at him for the accuracy, at a loss for words. Besides it… it was true. Of course he was going to ask, where else would this fanatic line of thinking end? He just hadn’t expected Gale of all people to be the one to force him to admit it. 

“I-yes,” Astarion sighed, finally giving in, “Are you happy now? Yes, I’m going to.”

“Extremely,” Gale grinned, “Because you just won me another three hundred gold.”

[azen13]

The Lives and Losses of Lovers

Description: This is actually inspired by a post by @lum1nesc3nce, which you can find here! TLDR: Zhongli x God!Reader, where Zhongli kills his lover but they stay alive. This does have a bit more of a Yandere!Zhongli flavor, though, so be warned!

CW: Yandere Themes, Descriptions of Violence, Descriptions of Blood, Murder, Mild Gore,

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The patio is warm, blessed with the touch of the sun’s earliest rays. Already you and Zhongli sit in two comfortable chairs; he sips on tea, you on coffee. It is a scene that has played out a thousand times, yet one Zhongli never tires of. He never tires of seeing your face aglow, of feeling your body leaning against his, of knowing you are here, miraculously breathing life through your bones and skin.

“My dear, I was wondering,” Zhongli starts, his soft contemplative voice shattering the flimsy silence blanketing the porch. “Would you like to accompany me to Liyue Harbor to purchase some groceries?” It is a reward–he thinks as he revels in your surprised reaction–for how understanding you have been in these turbulent times. With the whole mess regarding the Fatui cleared up and a mundane mortal life ahead of him, Zhongli can afford to spend more moments with you in sweet, blissful love.

Perhaps one day it will make up for that vile scene years ago, the moment his heart became stone: your body splayed stunningly on the ground, looking like the most gilded, horrific masterpiece he had ever seen. Painted in sunlit hues, his spearhead sticking from your chest splattered with blood made of molten gold. 

Even nearly dying you looked breathtaking. 

He is still suffering from regret for the decision. At the time, the situation was looking grim; Guizhong and Azhdaha were both gone, leaving you his only close friend. He spent many moonlit nights sharing tea and hushed conversation, as well as tears and heartfelt confessions with you. Zhongli is not the god of words, but just the sight of your iridescent eyes made him want to tell you every trouble and every worry had. You were his most valuable treasure, his lover through and through. Your contract with him, to always stand by side, loyal to one another, made him so weak, so soft, so human.

But that was the issue. Everyone knew of his love, his tender affection; unbecoming of a god who wielded earth and stone as weapons. His life was plagued by phantoms day and night. When he dreamed he envisioned you being kidnapped by some evil god like Osial and being tortured. Killed. Doomed to a fate worse than death, even. In the day, every action you did reminded him of a delicate tree weathering a deluge. Your branches swayed in the intense winds and even the earth couldn’t anchor you.

So he pleaded. He begged you to stay tucked away in his private domain where no great evil could stalk after you, promising to love you for an eternity of eternities. He would love you until every mountain had become a valley. But you refused, saying you wanted to live every facet of life, turning the world like a kaleidoscope in your hands.

The mirrors shifted and the skies turned red.

Those prophecies he had dreamt, uttered to him by ghosts haunting his mind, came true. You were taken away by some pesky, lowly god, and confessed all that you knew. That was fine. Zhongli was made of stone and Cor Lapis, and even if this insignificant insect of a god knew his weaknesses–few as they were–Zhongli eviscerated them.

But the contract.

When the god was sealed away beneath the sea, Zhongli fell to his knees, mouth opened but unable to utter any words.

Zhongli is not the god of words.

It is horribly tragic, he mourns as he stares at your hollow expression, that you must face the wrath of the rock because of a ridiculous choice of words. “To always stand by his side.” You have technically betrayed him.

The earth shakes for weeks afterwards. The sudden freak earthquake is talked about for weeks on end before people move on, as life does. Zhongli does not. His memory of you remains petrified, his new specter. He will never truly love again for thousands of years. Every time he is reminded of you, a piece of his heart chips away

But then you came back. 

That day is amber, crystallized in his mind. Seeing you in the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, so lost after centuries away from home. At that moment, Zhongli decides he will not make the same mistake twice. He would have preferred more time to draw you in carefully, but he is afraid now. Afraid that some hideous twist of fate will rip you from him again. So he whisks you away to his private domain, and drafts up a new contract, binding you to him in matrimony forever. 

Please forgive him, he begs after you sign the contract in gold, tears dripping down your cheeks. He only wishes to protect you; he has always wished to protect you. But the world is cruel to lovers, and not even the strong can uphold such a delicate thing. 

In Zhongli’s private domain, wicked things like time and fate are nonexistent. Zhongli is the only god that rules these lands. He is a benevolent god, if a little possessive. After being deprived of you for so long, he craves your presence, he claims. Day and night, he tries to spend every living moment with you. When he cannot, you are ever-present in his mind–a living, breathing thing instead of the dead spirits that once terrorized it for all those years.

Some days you seem despondent, craving room to spread your branches far and wide. But Zhongli simply chuckles and kisses the top of your head; he smells the gentle scent of your shampoo, knowing this is what is best for you. He whispers it quietly, lacing sweet nothings and honeyed words into his voice as he pulls you into his arms. You haven’t tried to fight him on this in years, either. It’s part of the reason why he has proposed going on a  little trip to Liyue Harbor. Perhaps if all goes well, he’ll allow more trips out of the private domain. All supervised by his watchful eye, of course. After a few moments of stunned surprise, you finally have the courage to speak. “I-I’d love to. Thank you, Zhongli,” you say quietly. Zhongli smiles, leaning to press a delicate kiss to your lips.

“You are very welcome, my treasure,” he whispers, a hand reaching to cup your face; his thumb reaches to brush your lips tenderly.

He can tell that you are still afraid of him, fearful that he will hurt you again. No matter. One day, Zhongli hopes, you will shed your fear like a caterpillar in chrysalis, and emerge into a glittering world full of Zhongli’s love for you. 

[cutieeva]

Love of blessing or curse in hatred ?

Female reader

Warnings : Infidelity. Murders. Poison. Mental abuse. Blackmail. Power abuse. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Finding love in arrange marriage is the same as searching gold inside a ocean. It's a waste of time and can slowly drown the one who has hoped thus, Edward never thought to find love with his arranged wife (Y/N) and found a pretty lady himself who will love him in riches and poor and bear his child but what went wrong to be poisoned by the same pretty woman he loves ? But fortunately god was in his side because he was back to the past and this time he will choose the right bride only.

Yells, screams, insults, hateful eyes, sneers, complain and more. There isn't any left for (Y/N) (L/N) to hear from her husband, Edward Wright. The recent crowned King.

Sadly, from the moment her hand were offered to the man after she walked down the aisle from her father, her doom begun so does his hatred directed towards her. To Edward, she wasn't anything than a measly pest stood between his love of the life and him and all he couldn't await was to erase her existence from the world to live a happy life. She was not at all like his lover, Isabella Relish. Not the gentle soul of her, not the sunrise smiles, not the comforting glance and shy courtesy of her. She was all he could elaborate into a empty shell of an person. The moment their marriage was spread to the world, not once his dearest wife tried to come to him, pleased him, talk to him rather her (E/C) eyes stare back at him after the bow, remained to address him with formalities, never came to his way, always seems to be stuck with his parents— the earlier rulers of the kingdom deserting and not questioning his thoughts or wants. "She is selfish". Was his first realization following was "She is cruel" watching the way at the slightest mistake of a servant lead them of a harsh punishment like fifty whiplashes on their bare backs or if lucky, he hates to recall ice bucket fill wash over them for an hour before standing them two hours bare feet under the blazing sun. Not only wasn't she is a wicked person, her ways of rules as an empress scares him of how less mercy with iron fist she gazes at the kingdom's people.

Edward could find the lingering fragment of behaviors on his chosen bride of his cruel parents that he refuse to love someone as the likes of her unawarely leading his eyes laid over the gentle heart of people, Isabella. Swore on Eros, the god of love. He fell and hard for her. She was the embodiment of what a human should be, she was the light of his dark world and the reasons behinds his smiles thus, he openly propose his love for her and from the tail of his eyes he could watch (Y/N) stood baring an unreadable expression watching the sight unfold.

Unfortunate to him, the gods were not by his side as his cheek burned from the slap his father gifted, strictly announced his wife shall and only be (Y/N) from (L/N) family leaving no room for a say. Yet he promised his heart to the woman belonged to a viscount daughter unlike his fiance, the daughter of the royal duke.

After the marriage closed with kiss and applause with empty room Edward didn't grace his presence into their wedding night rather he shared love with his lover at the very same night imaged her as his wife which few days later crowed by the throne, he made his Isabella his royal concubine deafening the protest of his royal advisors and pleds from the former rulers.

"She isn't good for you, my son".

"She doesn't love you".

"The woman loves her previous betrothed !"

"Your majesty, as empress of this kingdom. A king having a mistress just at the day of your crowned moment isn't well liked by people". Excuses and the last sentences of his wife fuled his want to plant a seed inside Isabella more just so he could at least see the little crack of her impassive facade turn into green with envy.

And the day he confessed patiently to his Isabelle about their shared offspring be the future of the kingdom ruling his throne. She smiled handing him a special wine she made solely for him. The king smiled, drank into the happiness of his future and the sweet taste turning into suffocation, his eyes wide as blood fill his mouth bled out of his lips. Unwelcomed chokes came out of his throat as he fell down helplessly under the woman he thought would be his destiny unlike his wife (Y/N).

"W-why ?" His palm wrap over his throat to put end to his own blood, tasting bitter.

"WHY ? You useless name of the king" The voice he usually never heard being raise than a whisper was filled with unknown anger and hatred he never knew existed. "You were well aware of my prior engagement to another, to whom my heart belonged. Yet, you misconstrued my courteous demeanor towards you as declarations of affection. And despite your own betrothal, you presumptuously demanded my hand in marriage !" Her pain roar was louder than he ever had directed over him, never aside from the one moment of his father slapping him, did anyone dare to even point their fingers at him let alone raise their voice. It astonished him more so angered him of how much the person he loved betrayed him and poisoned him for revenge.

"Because of you, I lost everything, my dignity, my family, my betrothed, my freedom, my life, companions and—". Her voices let the tears slide and her knees fell on the ground beside his fallen body. "Myself". Her eyes flicker with vicious. "Thus, die ! And rot in hell". Soon the agony of betrayed was covered by darkness and before his eyes close. Distant shouting and coldness touch his lips. Exhausted his eye lids widen a little by the presence of his wife, (Y/N) who he ought to despise and preyed to be dead.

"Here drink this". Cold water were slide into his mouth turning the bitter into sweet. "My Majesty, everything shall be right". His closed vision saw her first ever gentle smile and warmth blend with regrets came upon his heart of how fool he was to be blinded by a witch and not love his treasure wife. Before the strings of apologizes were spoke darkness covet him sending him into the eternal slumper.

"Prince Wright ?"

"Your highness ?"

"Your highness ? Please wake up !" Edward grasp and awaken. Sweats dripping from his forehead and heart pumping to send blood and mind races with the pain and betrayal he felt.

"Your highness ? You look quite pale ? Do you be pleased to rest upon some minutes ?" He whip his head towards the man wore glasses, black hair gathered in a rubber and black mix white suit wore, holding an open book and pen. "Your highness ?"

"Instructor Auclair, how on earth are you here ?" Thousand questions and emotions mingling together sending hazy memories and his sight follows how he is inside his former study room present with his former instructor Auclair, a famous French scholar.

"Your Highness, pray forgive my confusion, but I fail to comprehend your meaning. As I recall, we have spent the past several hours engaged in intense study, until you succumbed to slumber in the midst of our tutorial". His frown deepen seeing a name written over his book. The chapter of holy water : The miracle of second lesson. "Wait ! This is a lesson I have learnt already".

"You have your highness ? Why not you told ?" Edward overlooked the confuse man, searching for the date to confirm of something if he ought to think. "I was suppose to be dead". Running out of the study room, his feet run through the hallway scaring the servant away until he collide with a soft figure he never thought he could have a second chance to feel.

"Your highness !" Grasp was utter as her maiden hold her lady to stand properly. "Forgive my impertinence, Your Highness, but I must respectfully entreat you to desist from rushing through the corridors with such unseemly haste. Such behavior is unbecoming of a prince, and particularly one who is heir to the throne". The lady hastily courtesy before Edward who's eyes wide and heart racing.

"(Y/N) !" With that openly the rumored distant crown prince embrace lady (Y/N) who's baffled and straight horrified.

Tons of surprised yells by the servants and butler earned by the bold action from the crown prince. "Your highness, it's broad day light !" (Y/N) exclaimed, shame blush over her (S/C) skin, pushed away the man.

"I must also humbly request, Your Highness, that you address me with the formalities due to my station. While whispers of a potential betrothal between us may be circulating, I must remind you that no official arrangement has been made, and thus, I am not yet your affianced. Let us maintain the proprieties, lest we fuel further speculation and unseemly gossip." This time Edward was surprised.

"What ? We haven't ?" The sentence successfully confuse the lady. "Thus, it means I have been traveled back to the past where I am yet to be with (Y/N)" The date of the timeline confirmed and he slowly question if what his memories were his past life or a measly dream— no, it couldn't be because how he known a person he hasn't met to dream and the pain was too much to forget.

"Your—". Edward snap from the spiraling thoughts heard her voice to see her eyes on something else, following it fell over his own bare wrist curved a golden line horizontally. "I don't recall having a scar".

"Your Highness, I implore you, how did you come by that grievous wound ? I beg of you, summon the royal physician forthwith to tend to it". She suggested. "I shall then take my leave". She bowed once again about to turn her heels.

"No ! (Y/N)— Pardon me, (L/N) don't leave me". His palm grip her arms. "Not worry yourself, we will be wed soon". (Y/N)'s eyes wide at the direct confession even her servant almost faint finding the prince who despise her lady.

"Your highness, why on earth have you left ?" Panting the Instructor asked heard each dripping words from his student.

"Professor Auclair, please excuse myself to have an audience with my father". Releasing the astonished lady, he turned his determined face towards his professor.

"A-As you please, your highness". He stutter, completely perplexed by the scenario played in front of each.

"And lady (L/N), I shall have conversation to be your betroth soon". He walked away filling giggles of some servants and confused painted over (Y/N)'s face.

"However I do not wish to be web". She utter under her breath that only her maiden heard and smiled sadly.

"Crown Prince Edward Wright has arrived". The royal guards announced loudly as the end of their swords clashed with the floor and head bowed however the prince paid no attention the peasants and went straight towards his father, who he sat on top of the throne he recalls will be his few years later with mother beside his father on her throne sat.

"Please forgive my rudeness of such hasty audience with you, your Majesty". He bowed hearing the king release a sigh.

"My son, if the matter that weighs upon your mind pertains to the whispers surrounding you and Lady (L/N), then I must affirm that she is indeed the chosen bride, destined to become the future Empress of our realm. And I must confess, she is a paragon of virtue and wisdom, an exemplary choice for a wife and consort." The king elaborate, desperately wants to change the mind of his stubborn saddle-goose son.

"Indeed, my dear son, listen well. Lady (L/N) is a truly exceptional individual, possessing a heart full of kindness and compassion. She would be a devoted wife to you and a loving mother to your future children." The queen joined unaware how Edward has already has a change of heart.

"Be assured, dear parents, that I am in full concurrence with your exceptional choice of bride for me. No other lady can rival the merits and graces of Lady (L/N), and thus, I have come to you". His parents jaws were almost bound to be detached by how surprised they are. "With a proposal to formalize our union. I ardently desire to spend my life as her devoted husband, and she, my loving wife."

King Wright's eyes twitch at the sudden change of enthusiasm. "Son, do you truly wish to be wed, or perchance, do you harbor some hidden design, some secret intention that guides your actions ?" The queen glare at her husband for further query in case their son change his mind again. It's such a golden opportunity that the king is doubt of.

However to their surprise "Indeed, I confess a secret intention— to make Lady (L/N) mine alone, my sole and cherished wife. I have learned from the grave error of my previous denial, and now, I am resolute in my choice. I shall not be swayed, for I have come to realize that she is the true bride destined for me. I fervently hope that she shall be mine." The queen smiled at her son's burning passion and sincere smile for the woman they choose and the king welcomed with open arms to embrace for such an mature decision he made.

Edward leaned forward. "After my last life, father never spare me any affections yet in the second life. I have already gained their heart, (Y/N) is truly the lucky chosen bride for me". Bubbles of happiness clouded his mind for merely thinking of having her his wife again however this time he won't repeat the same mistake.

Soon the news of upcoming marriage between the crown prince Edward Wright and lady (Y/N) (L/N), the daughter of the royal duke sprinkle each of small corner to large other kingdoms. Celebrations and wishes were greeted for soon to be the couple along engagement of money and gifts were at the doorsteps of (Y/N)'s the very next early morning.

"O, my dearest! Behold the boundless generosity they have bestowed upon us, merely because we have consented to bestow our beloved daughter upon the Crown Prince". Her mother's laughter couldn't be contain as she eyed the glossing dress, shining jewels, rare diamonds and more riches.

"Of course my dear, how couldn't they ? Our daughter is to be wed with the crown prince, son of the ruler". Her father proudly stare at her content wife yet when his eyes met his daughter's, the (E/C) looked dull and lost of hope. His daughter stood wearing the unchanged night gown gazing at the presents in return to send the lamb to be slay to slaughter. Yes that's how she felt and expressed too.

"(Y/N) sweety, my apple of the eye. This marriage will be good". He assured.

"But I do not desire". She argued plainly feeling burns from watching herself to be sold to a stranger she doesn't held affections let alone have positive feelings. Each of their meeting, she was greeted by his sneer and hateful eyes, opens his mouth only to shame her for being not enough for his surname to be wed, look down at her as if she was a pest not even human, spat insults to anyone he deem worthless to stand beside him. He is an man created with arrogance and spoiled riches with no care of anyone but himself.

"Ah, my dear, I am well aware of the circumstances, but behold". He titled towards her mother. "Your mother was also my arranged bride, and yet, our union blossomed into a love that has blessed us with a radiant daughter such as yourself." He praised, hugging her small figure into his. "Marriages are oftentimes a matter of duty, and we must learn to find happiness within them, for society can be cruel to spinster, regardless of their station. I have witnessed it myself, and I would not wish such a fate upon my dear daughter." He cares her (H/C) gently giving the reminders he has seen and wish not to be directed upon his daughter.

"I understand father". She did not. She knows herself she is over the ripe age of eighteen and she must find herself a husband however if men stayed bachelor. They are the talk of gossip and compliments. Unfair. What she ought to spat.

The shine of decoration, lights and laughter of the celebration might shy away the moon itself, with the way each family is showing their beaming diamond, new collection, fashionable dress all in the name of ball held for the soon to be royal pair.

(Y/N) miserably drinks her wine, tears were hidden behind those polite (E/C) eyes. Stood alone at the corner. "I am exhausted by the false wishes". She is not foreign to envy looks and forked tongues. "All fault is the bloody prince". If she bared the power against him, she surely could had slapped him or better punch him.

And speak of the devil. "The King Arthur Wright and the Queen Charlotte Wright and their son, the crown prince Edward Wright has arrived". Each person bowed their heads at the sight of the royal family that (Y/N) passionatly cursed. Her eyes peek a little to find the prince already laid eyes on her.

"What ?" An uneasy creeped over her back, looming like an bad omen. Soon the king allowed everyone to stood properly and indulge into celebration. "He is coming towards me". Panic vines shatter over her how closer he is walking with each step she wished for him to stop. However her wish was unheard.

"Lady (Y/N)". He purposely called her first name. "May I have your first and all of your dances". All ? Really ? All ? (Y/N) already begin to be suffocated by how much this man keeping her within his palm for asking all of her dances not caring to do the same for himself.

"My first two dances is yours and the rest should be used by other gentlemen I believe". She search more excuses to support her words. "As it would not—".

"(Y/N)". She flicker her eyes into his. "We are bound to be wed. If I have all of your dances, none would dare to question. Agree already". She noticed his irritation under the sweet words, noticed his fingers took all her dance cards, noticed he held her hand without her consent.

"But—"

"The dance floor is ours". Edward grin ear to ear, taking her to the spotlight of others, spinning her around, holding her close, breathing their faces near and touching her waist.

Splendid.

Fascination.

Happiness.

These words are enough to describe his feeling as he continued to held her desireable waist, spin her around like an princess, drank into her each twitch, glance of eyes and clench that in his past life he heartlessly abandoned. The way her skin glows, light fall over her figure, grown wrapped her bare skin appeal her as a goddess he question himself how on earth he didn't notice. Her gracefulness, truth eyes, plum lips, soft cheeks are enough to engrossed him to her forever, make him slave to her beauty and kindness she gave his past life is enough to say his heart went to her.

"I love you". He mutter breathlessly boring into those (E/C) eyes he once thought was cruel when in truth was stern and nothing more. (Y/N)'s breath hitch at the sudden confession and all the curses and disheartment she felt was briming heavily.

Suffocated.

Trapped.

Toyed.

These emotions were all she felt. How shamelessly he could confess to her when with the same lips he degraded her, mocked her, laughed at her ? How one could be so cruel to utter love words to their victims as if he didn't torment her enough by claiming her his for eternal.

Before the daughter of the royal duke, before a woman, she is a human bearing her own emotions and wishes. Just because tonight he felt love, she have to bend to his whims, if the next he felt loathe, does she also have to sumit ? Be a toyed and birth cow for him.

"Your highness, I do not share the same feelings as yours". With courage she denied making him pause their beautiful dance and his future fantasy shatter.

"W-what ?" His ears refuse to listen to what her lips convey.

"I said, I do not love your highness to be wed with you". Honestly she spoke, glancing around the whispering crowd looking at them with curiosity due to why they paused their dancing.

"She is lying. There is no way she doesn't love me ! If she didn't love me then she couldn't come to help—" click ! His eyes wide noticing how she never cared for him in his past life because she too didn't bore love that slowly grew the longer she stayed married with him. Yes, that's the correct reasonable answer he come with.

"But in past life she didn't confess to me these— oh !" Because he changed the course of events effecting other's choice of decision too. Which also applys she could annul their engagement. "Never. She was and will be my wife".

"O heaven !"

"What a passionate couple".

"The crown prince is indeed in love". Guests, servants and the duke and his wife and the king and queen all cheer in surprise by the bold action unfold in front of them.

Because Edward insteadly gripped her wrist to lean closer and press their lips together. (Y/N) hopes crash and Edward's wish fulfilled by tainting his wife now no men will dare to ask for her hand if she annul their engagement after all her purity is taken by the famous crown prince.

"Sweet". He thought moving their lips to the taste the untouched lips he was fool to miss in his past life yet this life he was wiser. Soon, the touch of reality hit her hard and she pushed him to run outside not care of the world that the people thought were due to shyness but Edward knew better.

Licking his lips. He looked at the crowd. "Pardon me, my bride has shy away". Walk away confidently wearing the smirk over his lips.

"My (Y/N), why did you ran away ? People would have thought something else". He snicker finding her crouching near the balcony as if breathing the needed air. His predatory eyes scan her taking him back to their wedding night of leaving such a goddess alone to fend herself.

"Not worry, this wedding night I will be the best husband". He promised, hands circle her from behind, caressing the stomach he imaged to be swollen with his seed and kiss her neck feeling her stiff.

Wedding day came sooner than (Y/N) wanted, sitting in front of the mirror painting herself into the white colors of the bride, ready to be sold and a lamb ready to be cut. Tears were wiped faster than she could cry, sadness were heavier than her heart could bear. The veil finally covet her beauty only for her husband to ruin.

"My beautiful daughter is the prettiest bride I ever seen". Mama compliment, sniff happy tears.

"She is". Papa agreed, hugging her tight only to let her go to serve the hand to a stranger named crown prince after she walked down the aisle.

Edward was bewitched to see her once again in the color white to be his bride and later wear royality colors. He firmly held her shivering palms. Confessed "I do". To the priest, to the god who took mercy on him and gave him a second chance to amend his regrets to his wife who also whisper "I do". With a kiss sealing their fate.

"She is the most beautiful creature I beheld" even more than that witch. He looked at her after the kiss to cover the veil again making sure no men could get a glimse of something belongs to his and he smiled, waving to the cheerful crowd when his eyes met Isabella, the witch that ruined his life currently laughing hand in hand with a unknown man he figured was her betrothed she confess in their past life.

"I will make sure she dies with her lover". He planned, snake his arm around his lovely wife's waist awaiting the perfect wedding night where he sweep her feet from the eyes of others, excusing them and lay her on their shared bedroom, watching her to pled.

"How about we rest ? It's not like we must do it—".

"(Y/N), I do know you were taught the next day maids will check whether we consummate or not by the blood you bled thus, let's make love". Excitement was not hidden away the way red colored his pale skin and eyes into cupid hearts staring at the woman belongs to him again.

He hastily unbotton few before diving to kiss those feather alike lips dripping with honey along tongue envade her sweet little mouth tasting each and every corner and intertwining their tongues together like their fate are as his sly fingers find their way to her back to unbotton and rip away her piece of cloth to protect from his gaze that scan her bossom tucked under her corset yet the skin was shown.

Terrified and bare under those sapphire eyes, her arms protest to cover herself that soon were useless when Edward easily with his strength hold in one palm "Don't hide away such luxury from your husband". Hunger lace in his voice as his other hand recklessly tore the corset away unravelling her bare skin and freed bossom that bounce due to the empact.

He almost wished to whistle like a wolf when he saw her bare upper shinning the (S/C) skin donned by the moonlight. Her ample breast would be good to fed his children and the smooth stomach perfect to carry children inside and hips perfect. His arm snake around her bare skin sending shiver at the cold and an unwanted touch.

"Be good". Tears finally fell from her eyes, she no longer able to held the pain and humiliation she has to endured, terrified by the actions rolling one after another. "Shh, everything will be right". He hushed her kissing away the salty tears he tasted sweet, pressing his lips over her cheek sliding down to her neck to the collarbone and finally to her bossom. Butterfly kissing them and foddling them to make her moan, to make her enjoy as much as he does however (Y/N) not at all feel pleasure or any positive emotions rather she is tormented, her stomach is turning in disgust and her hands threat to right at this moment slit the man's throat to put an end of his life.

More tears roll down when she felt his tongue wrap around her bossom buds, sucking and coating with his saliva. "Ahh ! These will be the buds my children will have too but these are only mine". Merely at the thought of it blood rush to his already erection and heat under his skin.

Soon the another bud was equally red from all the sucking while his own skin was drawning blood from the way (Y/N)'s nail was deep into his flesh. This were her way of gifting him pain yet he adore the crescent shapes given by his goddess.

His hands threat trace her stomach to her lower part ripping the remaining cloth to bare entire her. Finally (Y/N) felt she could die if the man touch her another most reserved part she wished to give her lover, she slapped Edward.

The sharp noise fill the silent room for a second startling the patient prince and the blood that spill from his cheek when her nails too gaze harshly over his flesh.

"This is the second time". He counted someone dare to raise their hand yet oddly enough he licked the blood and his eyes decorated with lust. Finally the thread of patient he was keeping was cut and he ruthlessly push her over the bed again earning grasp from her and cries of mercy to be left alone however he ripe his own suit that covered his desire and finally claim the woman of his dreams who was ruined every second of the moment and it lasted until the next day's evening.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

Soon enough the day he was crowned the King in his past life remained the same in his second life along his queen (Y/N) who he made love almost each passing day.

"All hail the new King".

"All wish the King thousands of years".

"All wish the King propitious and happiness". Edward drank all the praises belonging to him albeit he doesn't need it because his wife is lucky charm in his life.

"Now we shall drink wines". Each of his subjects and royals and himself and his wife raise their glasss to connect to their lips. Edward drink, smiling to his wife who remain her eyes over the liquid with an impassive expression.

However soon the pleasure turned into horror feeling the same bitterness and suffocated as his lips were once again tainted by his own blood and heart throbbing. He fell down, hands reached for his wife to touch, eyes ache for her to look when he could feel the royals, others coming closer to him to save and call the royal physician yet his vision darken, his beloved never spare a glance at him.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Your highness ? Your highness ?" Edward awaken once again hearing his professor Auclair call him repeating the same words how he had fallen asleep during their lecture and when he ran through the hallways he met with his yet to be future wife (Y/N) (L/N). Confused he held her bittersweet to able to feel her warmth and that's when he saw again. This time curved two golden line horizontally on his bare wrist.

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Am I given life again ? Is the lines are my lives I live ? My third life ?" This time too he went straight to his father to fix the marriage between them after all they are fated together then he went to library to search for his repeat travel to past.

"The answer lies on the holy book". His fingers brush the pages of The chapter of holy water : The miracle of second lesson. It is written those who the deity deem most sinful mortal to repeat their past to correct their mistakes and if in their second life, the mortals harm another being mentally or physically, they are punished to return to their past once again if they die and the prove of such reoccurring cycle is the golden scar curved on their flesh.

"Because I killed Isabella and her lover in my second life. I was sent to past again ? But the death was an assassination perhaps". He desire to punish himself for being such an fool and let go the life that was perfect however this time he will again get his wife and prevent himself to drink any liquid at any ceremony especially his crowed king moment.

Each and all moment played out the same from the ball event to their wedding to their shared first night expect some changes and currently the crown heavy loom above his head beside sat his queen.

"All wish the King propitious and happiness". All the member within the room sip their drinks expect the King himself who claimed he has sickness to prevent drinking the posion while he watched his queen sip little by little not sparing a glance at him like their second life which he didn't found pleasant thus he fantasize how in their bed he will make her eyes on him the entire time.

"This will be the perfect ending". Or so he thought because why on earth is he laying on the ground, holding his slit throat to end the bleeding and eyes wide at his wife, (Y/N) (L/N) holding a sword that smeared with his crimson hue as she continue to watch his life fade.

"Why ?" Why ? Why ? Why ? Why ? Why again is he betrayed by the person he adores ? How could he be killed by the hands he caress and die at the feet he worshipped.

"Why ? Because why not. Your highness". Her lips stretch into a beautiful smile donned by the moonlight seeking inside their shared bedroom. "You bled my blood in the name of love on bed then why am I not allowed to do the same ?" Giggles echo the cold night.

"Forgive me, it was a comical sentence. I did not murder you in the name of love rather I murder you in the name of hate". He choked more blood.

"Impossible—".

"Impossible right ? Because why on earth would I in our first life would give you water to save ?" She laugh some more leaving him surprise.

"You aware—".

"Not at first yet slowly I do". She crounch, staring down at him alike of his past self who look down on people like they are pest. "Your Highness, the liquid I provided you in our first life was not mere water, but holy water, imbued with the power of rebirth. It was not the deity who deemed you worthy of rebirth, but I, the very same woman you once despised. However—" She put a finger over his lips. "Before you assume or imagine that I saved you out of benevolence, no, I must confess, I tricked you." (Y/N) titled her head.

"Verily, the moment I beheld you proposing to another woman, even as you were betrothed to me, and publicly humiliating me in the process, was the very instant I resolved to make you suffer all the anguish, torment, and disgust that I felt during our wretched marriage. It was then that I devised a plan to manipulate the ritual of the holy water, which grants a second chance to those who drink it upon their deathbed. However, I added a twist to the ritual, a curse in disguise, whereby not only would the person who imbibed it be reborn, but also doomed to repeat the cycle of rebirth, again and again, ad infinitum, like a wretched, cursed loop." Edward's eyes wide at the answer of his questions behind his repeat mercy that was curse in disguise.

"And when I had resolved to take your life, fate intervened, and your first lover herself presented me with the perfect opportunity. Seizing the chance, I administered the accursed drink to you, condemning you to the cycle of rebirth. You mistook my actions for kindness as you lay dying in your first life, but little did you know, my future self would ascend to the throne, reveling in the pleasures of power. (Y/N) loved the horror and betrayed written over his face. What she will never told him that the reason she aware is through her memories that came flashing the moment her eyes fell over his golden lines of lives.

"And my another self in our second life has been wed to another and this time I will be waiting to see what becomes of me". She throw back her head, wickedly laughed.

"I-I will kill you". Edward vowed and glare at the woman he loves.

"Aww, sweet however even if you kill me in my next life. Nothing will ever stop you from dying again and again until all the golden lines are spread over your flesh then when you die again will be your last mortal days". The queen stood up, brushing her white gown and throwing the sword in some corner. "My Majesty, everything shall be right". She mockly titled her bow watching he took his last breath to restart his past.

(Y/N) screamed her lungs out, calling servants, bulter, royal physician "O heavens ! The King has been murdered". She moured, falling on her knees, crying hysterically as every person enter inside the room, dragging his cold wrapped body and her to protect.

"I saw little glimpse of some men who murdered my husband". Tears were streaming over her cheeks however her shoulder were shivering due to her laughter she hid behind her palm.

Soon the royality mour the King's death together and she was crowned the ruler, singing her praises and throwing flowers over her. She grin fleeing from the golden cage she was trapped by replacing her former husband within it. Her (E/C) eyes fell over a certain man bowing his head to the queen and held not only her hand even her heart and body at night before becoming the King consort.

"Dearest, how are Lily and Henry ?" (Y/N) asked finally sitting upon her bed to drain away stress of the royal advisors and royal meeting. A pair of hands message her shoulders while leaving fluttering kisses on her shoulder and butterflies inside her stomach.

"They are good, my love". He carried her on his lap, kissing her deeply.

"Really ? I have my doubt after all Lily is turning five this year and Henry— eight albeit he acts like an bandit not like an crown prince, François". She sweetly giggle at her husband's nuzzling.

"He is growing. Not need to be stern my dear". Her husband gently explained, taking her corset off and laying her on bed with blush beaming from his skin and hearts swimming on those red jewels like eyes. "He is indeed your son with the way he behaves".

"And Lily like her mother". He compliment back.

"Beholding you, none would ever suspect that you are the same formidable Royal Commander of France, whose hands have been stained with the blood of thousands, and yet, you touch me with those very same hands as if I were a delicate pearl". (Y/N) breath contently.

"Indeed, love". He dive for a kiss from the wife he madly is in love with while (Y/N) spoke directed towards a certain someone stuck in an cursed loop "Love of blessing or curse in hatred".

FIN

[maester-of-spreadsheets]

Aka; an Armand playlist that only has songs from Shah Rukh Khan movies

Season 1 Episode 1: Aaya Tere Dar Par // Veer-Zaara I have broken all bonds with the world For you have come, leaving the world behind On your doorstep, your lover has come He has come, your lover has come

[Sorry for qawwali rocking. It will happen again.]

Season 1 Episode 2: Aa Tayar Hoja // Asoka Once on board the evening ship, get yourself settled in Come on, let's go! The evening shall be ecstasy The lips shall be mine but the thoughts shall be yours

[Needed at least one item number because Rashid!Armand basically served the same function as "I'm not sure what's happening here but I think I like it!"]

Season 1 Episode 3: Jaadu Teri Nazar // Darr Whether you say yes or no Whether you say yes or no Kiran, you're mine Kiran, you're mine

[Might as well throw this banger at the episode where Armand doesn't do anything but get accused of lingering.]

Season 1 Episode 4: Chaiyya Chaiyya // Dil Se Those who’ve been blessed with The shadow of love over their head, Will have heaven under their feet one day

[This claim is a little less impressive when you can float and you're immune to mediocre stars.]

Season 1 Episode 5: Chalak Chalak // Devdas This wine, this wine, yes, this wine, this wine This wine brings with itself The rain of memories It splashes and overflows This wine all around the heart

[Just here because of how often wine and blood are used as metaphors for one another and this episode has really comedically sezualized blood drinking DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT HOW THE END OF THE SONG SIGNALS DOOM...]

Season 1 Episode 6: Baazigar O Baazigar // Baazigar My heart was alone You played such a game I stay up all night in your memories

[And that's a threat by the way.]

Season 1 Episode 7: Aaj Ki Raat // Don

The crazy ones are still unaware of What's going to happen tonight, What will be gained, what will be lost

[Not only is it difficult to know what Armand is doing, it's-]

Season 2 Episode 1: Tumse Milke Dil Ka // Main Hoon Na Check that! Wiiiiicked

[Or, if you prefer: "You don't know what is inside of my heart/You will remember my story."]

Season 2 Episode 2: Where's the Party Tonight // Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna The pleasant songs are playing All lovers are misled So dance all night Where's the party tonight?

[Somewhere down the road!!!... at the combination mansion and vampire all you can eat place.]

Season 2 Episode 3: Phir Milenge Chalte Chalte // Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi I wish someone would love me, even if it’s a lie Even if it’s a lie, yes even if it’s a lie In every lifetime, the colors will change We blossom behind the curtains of dreamland We are travelers on the path of love, We’ll meet again as time goes by

[There are so many bollywood songs that make me feel like I've lived through several lifetimes, especially this one.]

Season 2 Episode 4: Ishq Kameena // Shakti Love is rotten, it has broken every heart Every lover has lost out to love, love has struck me down I find no peace, love is horrible, it makes life miserable

[Good song for an episode with everyone trying and failing to be romantic.]

Season 2 Episode 5: Dard-E-Disco // Om Shanti Om Then the fountain of grief started flowing As the balloon of my dreams burst That's why I now wander London, Paris, New York, L.A. or San Fransisco In my heart is the pain of disco

[... /Mic drop]

Season 2 Episode 6: Marjaani // Billu In the presence of God, I've also made promises I've acted according to the customs of the world Still if the world doesn't understand, then punish it If it agrees with you, then reward it If this crazy world doesn't agree to it then Let the world go to hell and die

[When you are about to be unable to prevent it :(]

Season 2 Episode 7: Dastaan-E-Om Shanti Om // Om Shanti The story goes that the one who recognizes the murderer, That lad has come back. It’s life’s way of telling the murderer That the shadow of death has surrounded him

[Just play this one in reverse because instead of using the trappings of theater to reveal the truth about an ingenue who was burned to death, we are using theater to conceal the truth about an ingenue who was burned to death.]

Season 2 Episode 8: Let's Break Up // Dear Zindagi Let’s break up, oh my love Agree to this We’ll never be able to make it work so let it go Let's break up!

[Yes, let's.]

[g0lightly]

(image credits)

the hounds of harrenhal is a slow-burn brienne x sansa romance within a whimsical adventure with a good mix of found family + re-found blood family fluff. don’t get it twisted, this is still pretty plot heavy. since this is a rather expansive work, there are plenty of other eventual pairings such as gendry/arya and jon/satin (i hc jon snow as the most clueless bisexual to ever live and i love him) in addition to some surprises for later.

can you spot the jenny of oldstones and prince duncan of dragonflies reference(s) in the collage? in addition to rhyming with past asoiaf-verse love stories (dunk x rohanne, jenny x duncan, elissa farman x queen rhaena, lyanna x rhaegar), THOH draws on the persephone/hades abduction myth to subvert both the hound's offer to escape with sansa during the blackwater and littlefinger's "rescue" of sansa from king's landing.

for the purposes of the fic (curse you, abandoned five year gap), sansa's been aged up to robb's twin and two years have passed in-universe.

brienne becomes the newest wearer of the hound's helm after lem when jaime sacrifices himself to lady stoneheart following an escape plan gone very wrong. as the hound, brienne enters a tourney at the eyrie as a mystery knight to win some much needed coin to help the brotherhood without banners through winter. there, lady alayne arryn begs for help escaping a doomed marriage; brienne temporarily sets aside jaime's honor-saving mission for sansa to help her. petyr baelish announces that the hound has abducted sansa stark from the eyrie and advertises a large reward for her safe return. meanwhile, tyrion is trying to use his previous marriage to sansa to claim the vale for the mountain clans and daenerys. sansa hides out in the riverlands’ magical hollow hill with brienne and the brotherhood, falling in love as tensions within the realm build up to a second dance of the dragons amid a years-long winter. when love is the death of duty, what happens when your duty is to the one you love? this work will ultimately take place over the course of several years, weaving in new allies and foes for our star-crossed lovers as the realm moves from crisis to crisis. for generations to come, all of westeros will sing of harrenhal’s hounds and its witch queen. but life is not a song; in this story, it is far sweeter.

meta thoughts below the cut on why a future briensa is objectively one of the best ASOIAF ships in terms of thematic potential.

briensa has the best elements of the far more popular s*ns*n and br*ime ships except they're both teenagers and, crucially, brienne has never held sansa at knifepoint 🩵 no shade to either ship though bc the themes those relationships explore have sent brienne and sansa on journeys that have made them kind of perfect for each other; ie, the subversion of brienne being a protector to sansa rather than a threat is especially relevant if brienne is the next hound after lem!!! alexa play god bless the broken road

brienne is the hero sansa prayed for!!! sansa has learned to put more trust in disfigured people than "beautiful" people which means she can see brienne's beauty in a way she cannot!!! thematically it would be well supported yet subversive for sansa’s true knight and true love to be a jonquil darke type rather than a florian type 🥹 thematically i think the surest route to true love for sansa is a naerys + aemon situation so why not make it like alysanne and jonquil if they ✂️? it's not my fault grrm accidentally (?) wrote sansa as a closeted femme4butch!!!!

[anika-ann]

Sneak Peek Time: Ochranuj me (Protect Me) pt.2

Setting: pseudo-medieval fantasy Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x witch!reader WC peek: 800

first part here, previous installments here and here); divider by @firefly-graphics

The quiet storm seemed to follow you, not one clap of thunder roaring from the skies; the silence was ominous, the only sounds those of a rush and brewing violence.

The potion sat safely in the pocket on the belt you had sewn yourself, hidden from sight and the first droplets of rain; the vial seemed to burn at your hip, as if the gods themselves had blessed it and filled it with divine power.

But the potion itself was not the solution, no. You were meant to be that.

A lawless solution in a lawful land; a being controlling the forbidden power that had the potential to be both your and Steven’s and your child’s doom and your kingdom’s salvation.

No wonder you had been losing sleep. Your actions were about to be ones of a madman.

But you were not alone.

You let the warmth of your lover’s body shield you from fear and cold alike, closing your eyes and allowing the feeling of ancient power – yours and all of those who had come before you – flow through you, the ominous whisper of a deadly end falling quieter, the rush of the wind by your ears all you could hear.

Steven only prompted the horse to slow down once you were nearing the gates, where the guards prepared to defend and attack the newcomers with their spears raised awaited you.

Steven stiffened and straightened behind you, prompting the horse but to walk the last few hundred yards.

“You have lied, Sir Rogers,” one of the men hollered over the faint noise of rain. “His Majesty the King does not take such crimes lightly, less so at a time like this.”

“I brought a healer,” Steve called in return. He was keeping the distance, still, clearly as to be able to flee with you should it turn out he had displeased the King too much to enter safely, his muscles taunt in readiness to defend.

‘I will protect you both, should be the last thing I will ever do,’ he had said.

He had never taken an oath lightly; yet, this one made your heart feel heavier than most, causing your throat to turn dry whenever your mind wandered to the darker part of his promise. The last thing I will ever do.

“The Prince might be lying on his deathbed – there was no time to waste to gain the blessing of His Majesty. May we pass so she may laid a helping hand?” Steven demanded, his sharp gaze observing the loyal royal servants with wariness.

The Royal Guard wavered, two different orders from their King in conflict: punish Sir Rogers; protect and attempt to save the crown at any cost.

Exchanging glances, they must have come to a silent agreement, however; nodding, they eased their stances but a fraction.

“You may enter. But we shall escort you to the King.”

Steven dismounted the horse with ease without disrupting your own balance at all, offering a gentle and firm hand to aid you.

Your feet barely touched the ground, a little unpleasant sweep to your stomach reminding you of the blossoms you had left lying on the meadow having been gathered for a reason, when one of the guards spoke again:

“And you shall only attend the King unarmed,” he barked, a vicious satisfied tilt to his voice speaking a thousand words of Steven and this man not being friendly at all. “Who knows what other rash decisions you might come to.”

The glare Steven casted the guard’s way was deadlier than any weapon he might have carried, but he obliged without protest, understanding there was no time to argue.

With a smirk, the guard took the heavy sword, his gaze wandering to you.

“And what of your lady healer?” he questioned, the mocking tone igniting fierceness in your chest in an instant, desire to show him that the most dangerous weapon Steven possessed was not of any precious metal, but of flesh and bone and blood. And blood you could spill; with ease that would scare you on any other day but the day where the gods themselves seemed to bless you. “Does she carry any-“

You did, in fact, carry a small dagger, even as that was the least dangerous weapon of yours.

The guard never got a chance to find out.

Steven stepped in front of you the very moment the man moved your direction, shielding you even as you could perfectly defend yourself on your own; gladly would, in fact, just to wipe the ugly man’s smile off his face.

Yet, Steven’s instant display of protective nature over you sent a pleasant heat through your middle.

“She does not,” Steven growled, hand subtly outstretched in front of you, voice once again heavy with an oath, this time much darker than the one he had given to you. “And be careful, Gregory. You touch her – you cause as much as a graze to her skin – and you shall regret to have ever been born. I will see to that.”

Protective knight Steve, protective knight Steve, protective knight Steve-

*cough cough self-indulgence cough*

Thanks for reading, loves 💕

The full second part is coming together, my guess is around around 11k together 🥰 Prepare for dramatics worthy of the Starks 💅 and Steve Rogers 🤫

[lepidopteragirl]

my god. that still makes me ILL like a million years later. what if there were two lovers fated to find each other in every incarnation again and again and again but by the time we get to our time the story’s worn thin. you don’t remember the past but maybe your body does because everything feels old, like you were born to reenact the same fights have the same story and live trapped in the same empty happy ever after forever like high school sweethearts and you worry somewhere in the lifetimes you’ve spent together you’ve outgrown each other. or maybe just lost the spark, love pasted across too many incarnations losing its shine.

and then this third guys there. at the margins always. he’s not a part of this love story. but somewhere. somehow. he finds his way in. solid and sure and you love him. so you put rings on each others fingers and promise to get married in a doomed city and quackity. bless his heart. tries to built it anew, push the story open and make room for him, rewrite the story until there’s no way for anything but the three of them to the true. but the universe doesn’t like that very much. there is no room for him in this old story. it screams. rotting holes in the time travelers memory. this is the story. this is YOUR story. and it has only one ending

[pierdutaintimpsispatiu]

Dragobete

A romanian valentine's day.

The son of Baba Dochia (another folkloric being in our mythology), Dragobete is the patron of love and bringer of spring. His coming is awaited with flowers. His calling is to kiss the girls on this day, 24th of February, because the girl who isn't kissed shall remain single the whole year.

Dragobete, or Dragomir by his first name, is a young god, beautiful, a lover by nature, strong and charming, bringing joy in people's lives. Because no one knew who his father was, they assumed it was the Spirit of the Mountain.

When our loverboy was born, four ursitoare (fairies godmother) came to offer him the most generous of gifts. The first one, Spring, blessed him with love. Summer, the second one, gave him the sweetness of ripe fruits. The third one, Autumn, gave him a flute, to bring joy to those who hear him play, while Winter, the fourth fairy, offered him a white coat, adorned with diamonds and a red belt, sewn with pearls. The coat was designed to grow with the boy, never getting dirty, no matter how much he wore it. Because of these gifts, Dragobete managed to make every girl he wished, fall for him.

As he grew, he took the path of mountains, hearing the call of his parents, to learn all about plants and animals. Which is why, in the folk belief, Dragobete is also the protector of birds and herbs.

Another belief have him turned by his mother into a medicinal plant called Năvalnic. The plant is used in love spells and treating wounds.

to celebrate Dragobete, the girls go in forests and plains in search of the first flowers of spring and hang them on icons to be young and beautiful and keep away all jealousy and bad thoughts sent their way. dried flowers are thrown in a running water on Sânziene day, so all the evils will go away with them. if they found ripe berries, they'd take the flowers and make bouquetes that were put in their water, as they washed their hair while saying „Flori de fragă Din luna lui Faur La toată lumea să fiu dragă Urâciunile să le desparți”. (Berry flowers of the month of February, make it so that everyone likes me, cast away all ugly thoughts and wills from me)

the boys would pick ghiocei (snowdrops) and bring them home, because an old saying goes "as many flowers in your house, as many chickens in your farm"

those who are single on Dragobete, or don't manage to kiss, or the very least touch, a person of romantic interest, are doomed to another year without finding their soulmate.

those who have a partner and spent even a second with them on this day, will be together the whole year.

if you dream of your crush the night of Dragobete, speak to them and their heart shall open for you.

anyone who sees a pupăză (hoopoe) on this day, will be lucky all year long and if you see a pair of birds, you'll always be loved (birds are known to chose a mate this time of year).

early in the morning, young women would also search for remaining snow, melt it and wash their hair and face with it, to have clean skin and healthy hair.

another belief says that if you go on a date on Dragobete and don't kiss, you and that person will break up

as a boy you have to drink a special tea, made with sour cherry brenches to have a chance at love the year that's to come.

if men are mean or fight with women on this day, their spring will be filled with bad luck and they'll have an awful year

everyone should be happy on 24th of February, to honor Dragobete and convince him to bring them a lover

in some places, girls would put busuioc (basil) under their pillows to dream the face of their soulmate

in other parts, girls would run, chased by boys. if a girl was caught and she liked the boy, they'd kiss as everyone watched, which symbolized their wedding in the fall.

and some other places sent their girls – who haven't eaten or washed that morning – to pick popelnic (a type of wood) and wash their hair with it, leaving behind as an offering to the god, bread with salt and eggs. in the meantime, the guys dance in horă (a type of dance where people hold each other in a circle and, well, dance) and pick ghiocei (snowdrop)

Dragobete is, as you might have noticed, quite a pretentious god. on top of it all, he doesn't like you killing or sacrificing animals on his day. nor does he want you to sow, wash anything, iron clothes or work the field. the only work he allows is a deep cleaning of the house

Happy Dragobete, love is in the air!