#growing unto maturity

[a-godman]

Develop the Virtues in Divine Life to Grow unto Maturity & Enter the Eternal Kingdom

We believers in Christ need to develop the spiritual virtues in the divine life and thus to advance in the growth of the divine life so that we make God’s calling and selection of us firm and so that we may have a rich entrance into the eternal kingdom. Amen! This week we have been enjoying the matter of being partakers of the divine nature and having the development of the divine life and the…

[petermorwood]

Crumpet Voluntary

@dduane is helping a local clergyman - Rev. Hanley, he of the flowing locks - with some editing, so when we met him the other day in the pub (this is Ireland), I offered a suggestion originally posted here for The Lesson Of The Day.

His response was "Except for the Marmite, you've got me."

Clearly temptation is like so much else, the devil is in the details. :->

He also assured me that this could be chanted, High Church style. That's something I'd like to hear...

*****

Today’s lesson is from The Book of Breads:

Crumpets, Chapter One, verses one to ten.

And it came to pass, as was revealèd unto Twitter, its Recipe being here (*), that @dduane​​ had a yearning both sudden and untimely, and that yearning was for Crumpets.

And by that Recipe she caused there to be Crumpets, well anointed with butter and with jam, and they were eaten for late supper with a cup of tea, and they were Good.

And on the next day, being Bank Holiday Sunday, it further came to pass that two of those Crumpets were split, and toasted, and buttered; yea, with much butter were they spread, and richly smeared withal.

And one of those Crumpets was further topped with Marmite, and with cheese. Cheddar was that cheese, mature and strong of flavour.

And that cheese was melted, yea, with heat was it causèd to grow soft, and toothsome, and full of taste, and upon that softened cheese was sprinkled dust of chilli which did enliven it exceedingly.

And a book was opened unto that place where Nigel Slater writes of Marmite, and his words were read whilst those Crumpets were devoured.

Yea, verily, fallen upon were they, and utterly consumed; and the butter being melted did flow unto the wrist of that hand which held the Crumpets, yea, even unto the elbow thereof.

And the Crumpets spread with Butter were Traditional, and the Crumpets spread with Marmite and with cheese and chilli were Different, yet both were most acceptable.

And all who ate of them enjoyed their rich savour, while at that same time being coated lavishly with butter.

And it came to pass that the butter was washèd off, and there are more Crumpets for later, and they will be Good.

Amen.

Here endeth the lesson.

*****

(*) Here's the recipe, and here's a short clip of food porn, or food erotica at least...

[cleoluvrr]

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - prologue

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

“get the hell out of my house, rafe! i don’t care!” your voice was raspy with anger and frustration as you yelled in rafe’s face. your skin was damp with fresh tears, neck covered in the salty trail leaking from your eyes. “i’m not doing this shit with you anymore!”

your boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend, was at the foot of your bed, burning eyes glaring down at your seated frame. you know why he came over, but seeing as the two of you ended on bad terms just a couple weeks ago, you were less than pleased to see him. it wasn’t really a mutual separation–it was more one of force. you told him you were leaving him–and you did–but in rafe’s head, he never left you.

rafe wasn’t a nice guy most of the time, not even to you. you knew that when he pursued you, but you still gave him the benefit of the doubt. you told yourself that it was just a defense mechanism, that he would get nicer the longer you two were together. when the cruel behavior continued well into your relationship, you realized just how wrong you were.

the name-calling, the violent behavior directed towards both you and others, the raging cocaine addiction that he wasn’t even trying to overcome; it was all too much for you. hence, why you broke it off after years of trying to find a more sympathetic side of him. he had one, you knew that for a fact, but it wasn’t enough to ignore all of his shortcomings.

“that’s not how that works, y/n. are you fucking stupid, or something?” rafe looked at you incredulously, top lip flipped up in an almost disgusted snarl. 

“what do you mean ‘that’s not how it works?’” the frustration you felt was only amplified, face screwed up from being unable to process the gall he possessed to let those words leave his mouth. “i said that we’re done. over, finished. i explained to you why we’re finished very simply–you’re a piece of shit, rafe. and until you’re not, we’re going to stay finished.”

the chance that he would ever stop being a terrible person was minimal. it had to run in his dna–maybe it skipped sarah and wheezie, but the trait definitely passed from ward unto his son. 

you’d seen the way his father spoke to him. you were the one he came to late at night when he’d storm off after an argument, drunk, high, or crossed out of his mind. you nursed his bruises, bloody noses, and sore knuckles after their physical altercations. he never had someone truly care for him growing up, and being raised by a monster only turned him into one.

it was easy to look at the broken boy and have your heart ache for him. how could someone be mad at him for lashing out when that was the only way he was taught to express his feelings? it was even harder to nurse your own bruises that resulted in his unhealed, internal ones. which is why you had to put an end to it in the first place.

“there’s no way you think i’m letting you leave me, y/n,” he says dryly. “after all the investments i made in you? you might be crazier than me.” the taller man lets out a humorless laugh as he rakes his nimble fingers through the blonde locks atop his head.

“what fucking investments, rafe? the jewelry?” 

you push yourself off your bed and shove past him, the dresser behind him becoming the new target of your rage. yanking open the jewelry box neatly sitting atop the piece of furniture, you ravage it for every ring, necklace, and pair of earrings rafe ever gifted you. turning around to face him, you toss it at his feet in a messy pile, the metal scattering around the floor and knocking against his shoes noisily.

“there you go, rafe! do you want the clothes, too?” you go to your closet door and rip it open, the box full of clothes that rafe bought you sitting neatly in the corner where you left it a week ago after packing it all away. the box scrapes against the hardwood floor as you pull it out of its hiding spot. “here! take it! take all your ‘investments’ back! ”

“y/n-” rafe tries to speak but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone hitting him square in the jaw. he bought that too, and he could take it for all you cared.

“there’s your phone, too.” it took everything in you not to smirk in satisfaction at seeing him wince in pain from the heavy object hitting him directly in the face, but it only lasted a second before you realized it was a bad idea. escalating to physical violence was never a thing you did. “now take your shit and leave.”

a few months ago, you would have never thought of doing anything like that. in fact a few months ago you were too scared to even raise your voice at him, let alone throw your phone at him with intentions to harm him.

it took you two months to even find the courage to break things off with him. you feared what was to come if you were to do something as drastic as that, but you knew that it had to happen eventually. even then you weren’t this bold, and the way rafe remained deathly still in front you stood as a reminder why you never were.

“i know you didn’t mean to do that…” rafe trails off, eyes closed as his tongue pokes though the side of his cheek in poorly hidden vexation. “you’re just angry, so i’m gonna pretend you didn't do that.” he squats down slowly to examine the jewelry laid out at his feet.

he pokes around wordlessly, the sound of the collection softing scraping against the floor taking over the silence of the room. you observe as he picks up a familiar silver piece, blinking rapidly as he rises back to his full height with it pinched between his fingers.

the square-shaped mark on his face where the phone made contact with him appears to be a deeper red as he approaches you, the few feet between you crossed in seconds with his long legs. you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth, breath hitching nervously when he reaches for you. the feeling of the cool metal of the necklace falling into the dip of your clavicle makes you flinch instinctively as rafe clasps it behind your neck.

“you are my shit, y/n.” the taller man hums as his fingers adjust the pendant resting against your chest. “i invested my time, money, and energy into you not only because i love you, but because i expect a return on it. so, unless i’m leaving here with you, i’m not going anywhere.”

rafe’s hand so close to your neck had you frozen in place, unsure of what his next move would be. even after years of being with him, he was still far too unpredictable and unstable to feel easy around when you could feel the agitation dripping from his pores. 

“on our first anniversary, i told you i couldn’t see myself with anyone else. on our second anniversary, i gave you a promise ring–” his free hand reaches down for the hand still adorned by the diamond studded ring he gifted you almost a year ago. you never took it off, but right now you wish that you had the strength to. “and i promised that i was going to marry you one day. you were going to be my beautiful wife, you would have my beautiful children, and everyone would wish they were us.”

“why are you–” you abruptly go silent when you catch the look he gives you, blue eyes dark with a calm rage that you’d learned to fear the most over everything. you shut your mouth immediately at the wordless instruction.

“you promised to love me.” he holds up his hand to show the matching promise ring wrapped around his own finger. “you promised to accept that i was fucked up. you promised that you would be there to wipe my tears, and that you could handle all my shit, even if it hurt you. if you think i’m gonna sit here and let you fuck me over–let you waste my time? let you just–just leave?”

he shakes his head at you, both of his hands reaching up to plant themselves on the sides of your face. his palms are warm against your skin, the feeling of his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. you blinked up at him, eyes wide as your heart pounds against your chest. his own eyes were still dark and angry, but you could see the pure love pouring out of them though the seam between his blown out pupils and the blue of his iris. 

you inhaled deeply when the blonde leaned in to place a gentle kiss to your mouth. it was hard to remain stoic in your reaction, especially when he pulled away with your sticky, pink gloss coating his plush lips.

“you’re not leaving me that easy.” he whispers softly into the little space between your faces. it was instinctive to gulp out of fear–the barely contained, frightened whimper pushed back down your throat with the action. “if i lose you, it will be by my own hands. it won’t be because you get a little scared when shit gets real.”

rafe is granted silence as you continue to stare up at him with your lips drawn together tightly. he sighs heavily, sensing the fear radiating off of your body. you feel his hands pull you into his chest, one of them dropping to your waist to hug you close to him as he rests his head on top of yours. 

“i will fucking kill you before i ever let you leave, y/n. do you understand that?” you say nothing in response, sure that your voice will tremble more than you want it to. you believed every word that came out of his mouth deep down, and the seriousness of his demeanor only justified your sense of foreboding. “answer me. do you understand?”

you remain silent for a heavy second, mouth completely devoid of moisture and heart pumping too rapidly to speak steadily.

“yes, rafe.” you nodded against his chest and you felt him exhale, almost in a way that resembled relief. “i understand. i’m sorry…” you weren’t sure what you were even apologizing for, but it was something you were so used to doing to save your own ass.

“it’s okay, baby, i know.” he plants his lips to your scalp sweetly before pulling away just a couple centimeters. “i know it gets hard sometimes– i know i’m hard, and i’m sorry for that. i’m really trying.”

“i know.” you say weakly, the words all but muffled by the shirt your face was buried into.

you felt him nod above you before he placed another kiss on your head. 

“i love you so, so much.” rafe whispers into your hair, the air of his words against your scalp sending chills down your back.

you nod in response, submitting to the silence that weighs heavy on your tongue.

[the-art-of-witnessing-the-cosmos]

The beauty of the planet Saturn . 🪐

👑Known as the hardest Taskmaster who's entrusted with the job of delivering the Karmic lessons of our unique life blueprint.

👑He is the one that is the fairest of all. He rules over fairness , justice , general masses , pain , detachment , hard working , suffering , past , fears ,old age, loneliness, karma, the true reality of our material world. He rules over our resilient quality, our hardworking spirit , the lower classes , success , status , gain & money as well.

👑On a spiritual level , He grants the gift of equanimity, that is hard won by learning to let life happen to you and learning to flow through it , to not hold too tightly or even too lightly , to understand & live the fact that change is the truest reality which actually grants the true base of stability within & without.

👑He is the one who ensures that you get what you truly deserve and is ruthless in this endeavour . There are different ways to perceive him . How I see him is that he beyond the mask of the strictest teacher , is genuinely kind , genuine , true , honest & fair to all. He is impartial , he is the personification of 'Do unto others what you would have them do unto you. '

👑 He also signifies the areas of life where you feel loneliness ,restricted, dissatisfied but what is loneliness? Is not being alone a true reality of our human experience, despite having a lover , a loving family and everything, still our experience , our sense of feelings , emotions, thought processing , the colors that we feel when we live our experiences , in that true lived experience, we all are ultimately alone . True deep understanding is rare. True merging rarer. And total permanent satisfaction in this ever changing world , is it possible ?

👑He ensures , the surety of receiving what you truly deserve , beautiful lessons , gains or hardships , painful realisations that teach you the transient and illusive value of different facets of the material life that hold you back or keep your chained to your deep unconscious harmful impulses.

👑He is the healer that gives you the medicine which may taste like a poison to your ego but heals you inwardly but bringing inward balance , understanding, fairness & spiritual growth ultimately.

👑He is exalted in Libra. The real magic & beauty of Saturn is that he is the ultimate alchemist of the human soul. He bounds you to the deepest material attachments & your deepest fears & past life karmas/samskaras/mental imprints and he is the one that gives you the strength to transform theses experiences , learnings to discover your true spiritual nature which happens when your karmic accounts are balanced . Thus inward balance of the energy of Libra is satisfied.

👑He represents your past experiences , deepest fears , areas of difficult experiences , areas of resistance which we all wish to run away from but have to ultimately face them , face our lighter & darkest aspects so that integration of our fragmented energetic patterns can happen . This integration is the highest gift that we offer to ourselves and our higher self.

👑And then you grow up , you flower into true maturity & thus become the watcher , the observer , the mystic , the seer and can embrace the true colors of life & living.

👑You then understand that the pain of underprivileged people is yours too , that the society which we make up is not different than us because we together make it up. You also learn not to resist , to be humble , to understand the value of being patient with yourself & others. You learn to not run away from your deepest karmic fears because the more you run away from them , the more they gain power over your mind. Thus we become brave & learn that we are truly responsible for ourselves, our thoughts , our actions, our choices which gives us the true power to change and transform & gain & rise :).

🤍What goes around, comes around. What we do to others , we do it to ourselves too. The more love you give to yourself & others , the more you will get , the more needless pain/hurt you give to your self & others, then that's what you will be served hot and fresh :).

So choose wisely and understand that Saturn is on your side. He wants you to grow & discover your true nature. To realize that you & the other ( theme of Libra ) are actually one. 🤍

[kakiastro]

Random Astrology Observations + Notes

Random cool picture of an elephant

Mercury or Gemini 8h people tend to have dark sense of humor that may be off putting to other people

Pisces men loves to grow their hair out

Sagittarius can also suffer from escapism like Pisces. The difference is that they use traveling or physically distancing themselves while Pisces uses their thoughts to escape

Sun-Saturn aspect can indicate issues with the father/father figures in their life. This can indicate a person who looks up to their father and wants to live up to their standard but this can cause friction (especially if the aspect is squared or opposed)

Sun-Moon aspect can indicate a person who takes after both parents. In harsh aspect, this can mean parents didn’t get along while you were growing up

After your Saturn return, you really won’t start to see the results until you’re at least 35. Why? Because saturn doesn’t fully mature until the age of 35

Mars Gemini are really good with their hands. Take that however you want😅

If you’re blessed enough to live to the age 84, then you will go through your first Uranus return. At that age, just be a rebel and get a bunch of tattoos and a Mohawk😂

They’ll never tell you this but Capricorn would rather be at the beach being lazy and drinking margaritas than at work. They work hard so they can relax later and retire early. You know what Caps, y’all deserve it!

If you have Pisces or Neptune 4h, you’ll do better when you move far away from your hometown. Pisces rules over foreign places and you guys do better when you’re surrounded by people you don’t know to project unto you, I feel like somewhere peaceful without a lot of noise will do. Somewhere that will uplift your spirit

People who have retrogrades in their natal charts are seen as different and you can use that rx to your advantage

Simone biles has Mars Rx. Mars rule over athletes and when it’s rx, you may be seen as unique.

Lilith 2h can indicate a person having an alluring and hypnotic voice. This can also show in their looks since 2h rules over beauty

Sun-Ascendant aspect can mean that a person look like their dad while Moon-Ascendant can make them look like their mom. If both sun and moon aspect the ascendant then you look like a combo of both parents.

Saturn -ascendant can also indicate you looking like one of your grandparents. Saturn rule over grandparents.

Moon 8h can indicate your partner inheriting some money from the family. 8h rules over partner money because using derivative houses, it’s the 2nd house after the 7h(partner)

Venus 6h people loves to smell and look good everyday. 6h rules over everyday routines. They may also have a sweet tooth

[blairdii]

do you know what i think?

i feel like all these people who hate lando are the same people who said that they would break the generational trauma cycle but think it doesn’t count on the internet because they still need some sort of outlet for that trauma.

like, they hate him for being sensitive and wearing his heart on his sleeve, because maybe someone in their life made them feel bad about being sensitive or made them feel like wearing your heart on your sleeve is a bad thing to do. they were called weak for doing that. so now they’re calling lando weak.

they hate him for having an ego, even though he’s not got as much ego as other drivers. maybe because they were taught that doing anything for yourself is selfish and shows that you’re egotistical. so him winning and him wanting to win makes him selfish and egotistical.

they hold him accountable for things he said six years ago. like they get held accountable for saying things they don’t even remember anymore, and they’ve suppressed everything that someone else said because they can’t hold them accountable.

they hate him because he hasn’t suffered enough for not being confident or whatever, that he had supportive parents, and more importantly, rich parents. because it’s drilled into their heads that only suffering = mental health problems. a rich, white guy in a rich sport is not suffering, he’s living the dream life.

they hate him because lando blames himself instead of the team or the car, except they hear him blaming the team or the car. just like when they were blaming themselves but someone else changed it completely and twisted their words to take it that they’re blaming someone else.

they hate him for having a life and travelling while also being good on track. because they were told that to focus on something, you have to let go of everything else, and now they’ve achieved that dream but they’re still alone.

they hate him for having emotions, because they were taught that emotion makes you weak and vulnerable and should never be seen by other people. how dare he have the privilege to be open about his emotions and they don’t?

they hate him for wanting to be the best, because they wanted to be the best too but someone compared them to someone else and made them feel like shit, so now they’re comparing him to someone else.

they hate him for wanting to earn every win, because it reminds them of how much blood sweat and tears they gave for their dreams and wished that a little luck would’ve helped them out instead of someone else.

they hate him for not being ruthless, because again, they were taught that being ruthless will help you achieve anything and everything, and they can’t fathom the idea that someone gentle was on his way to achieving his dreams.

they hate him for opening up about his life because they think he wants sympathy. no one gave them sympathy, or even empathy when they were growing up, so why should he get any?

idk if a lot of this made sense or not. it’s my post exam brain. but, some of the reasons that antis use to hate on lando could just be linked to trauma… of course there are people who are plain bullies too and like to hurt someone else to make themselves feel better. but idk… have fun reading this, i guess?

you are so right. a lot of them have unprocessed trauma, and it's so palpable in the way they treat lando. they can externalise all the feelings they've repressed unto him because they know they're never going to face the consequences for it.

and frankly speaking? most of them will never break their generational cycle of misfortune. if they can't comprehend how their actions and words affect another living human being despite there being a disconnect (in one way or another), then they don't have the maturity nor the emotional intelligence to not pass that on to their children. it's why i always say "we're in big 2025 and still making fun of people for their mental struggles?" because we're in times too progressive to be doing this. it's sad, it's pathetic, and atp too many fans crave validation from the majority that they'd rather have moral failings than just accept being the few who are disliked for being right and speaking truth.

people cannot compute the fact that their trauma or past experiences isn't an excuse to treat people the way they do, and as they grow up they'll realise that they definitely will not got scot free like they would online after battering lando to hell and back, and that life is beyond a phone screen.

a lot of them also can't understand how lando trangresses everything that's expected of a high performance athlete. men will come at him for being mentally weak and "feminine" or not "masculine enough" because they've got this warped perception of success as a man. it's why male fans would, so weirdly, be like 'yeahhh the abuse max got wasn't good BUT it made him the driver he is today so it's not all bad'.

they're never gonna break their trauma because they haven't realised how to live without it. they haven't realised that you don't have to abide by a certain criteria to do well, so they'll take it out on lando and continue to tell him he's not good enough and how he 'needs a mentor to fix his mentality'.

drivers are not robots, they're people with feelings and emotions just as much as we have them. i'm not gonna sit here and tell someone to shut up about their struggles when being open about it is not only a way to educate people and say 'hey, even us athletes, at the pinnacle of our sport, struggle too', but also to supplement that with encouragement and say 'so you can be open about your challenges, it's not a bad thing'.

lando is the most emotionally mature and intelligent driver on that grid. no fan can convince otherwise, and he will be remembered in 100 years for what he's done. being hated for being human is quite memorable no?

[vxmpirehunterd]

  Who is he? What’s the D even stand for?

The topic of his name and its origins was a touchy one due to the sheer amount of turmoil associated with it. A name given unto him by his father. One that he thought worthy of his son–a boy that would grow up to stave off the eventual extinction of the vampire race. A boy that would grow up to be a man and create harmony among humans and vampires once more like the golden ages before. To be that world's destined RULER. D would be Dracula’s very own version of a messiah--created in his very own image like God and his begotten son.

Because of this, the dhampir was named after his father’s namesake when he came into the world. Dracula... he was dubbed.

But D chose to reject such a thing. He rejected the role, and he rejected the name once he reached maturity. There was nothing more detestable than sharing the sacred Ancestor's name. Not only did he resemble his father down to the minute detail in form but his name would be his father's too--and that was unacceptable to the dhampir. For all the intelligence and creativity Dracula had--he couldn't be bothered to extend that when naming his son. It was as if his father saw D as little more than a clone, a puppet, a reincarnation. Never his own being belonging to himself. All of it was so infuriating.

Taking matters into his own hands, D chose his own. A name that would be uniquely his. One with meaning. He chose Demetrius (Demetri for short, D even shorter). A reference to the ship--Demeter--the one his father used on his voyage to London to meet his mother Mina. The ship that helped bridge the gap between Human and Vampire that day in the form of his parents.

[ameliafuckinjones]

I've decided that I want Amelia to give birth to all 50 states. Not in a completely human way, though. I headcanon that female nations 1) can only reproduce via parthenogenesis, 2) the pregnancy at most lasts a week but on average lasts a day and every stage of pregnancy is accelerated within a 24 hour time frame (which can be extremely overwhelming and disorienting considering they're going through 9 months of pregnancy in less than 24 hours), 3) when they give birth its sort of like a natural c-section where the stomach/abdomen opens up so that they can pull the baby out with their bare hands.

Not all female nations can give birth. It depends solely on circumstance, mostly metaphysical. Is she forming large states within her nation that sort of act as a nation unto itself? Is she being invaded and settled by foreign tribes/clans that bring about the identity of a new nation? Are the people/regions within her lands forming a distinct cultural and linguistic identity from the other neighboring regions/people within her lands? Things like that determine whether or not a female nation reproduces. She can't control it either. It just happens. Some nations that fit the bill: Ancient Greece, Britannia, Gaul, and nyo!America, among others. You'll note that the overwhelming majority of them are the Ancients, except America.

Also, I want her to give birth to all 50 because I sort of want her to suffer, just a little, for the narrative. She rebels against a paternal figure, who she deems to be neglectful and tyrannical, only to trade in one form of servitude for another. The president acts as a sort of paternal figure for the nation at large, while the manifestation itself is the maternal figure giving birth to American states and thus giving birth to the US. And without the paternal president and the paternalistic government, the states wouldn't exist. It is the President and Co who draw up the territory, expand the lands via war or treaties, and with each admission into the Union America's belly grows with child before giving birth to a state. The Senators and Governors and Presidents beam with pride when it's a boy, especially if that boy represents their state, and likewise dim a little when it's a girl, but they are proud all the same. It's rare for a female nation to have this ability and their female nation does.

For America, it's a reality that she grows numb to after the first shock of it (popping out several children within the span of 2 weeks after the rev), and she has a strange relationship with her children, especially the younger ones in the Midwest and West Coast, where she is sometimes emotionally distant yet overly protective (really hates the thought of them interacting with foreign nations especially after the Civil War, which aided her desire to become a powerful nation). She tries to love them all equally but it's obvious to anyone with eyes that she has certain favorites that she pays the most attention to even after they've reached "adulthood" when she doesn't necessarily have to care about them anymore but does anyway. Her youth is at odds with how old she feels whenever she remembers that she's a mother of 50 and that she had to mature really fast for so many reasons. She never truly got the freedom she'd hoped for after the Revolution because immediately after, she had to become a mother against her will, over and over again. She loves the idea of having a large family, especially when the world begins to feel too much. It's easier to close herself off from the world and go on an isolationist streak when she has 50 people waiting for her at home. At the same time, when home becomes troublesome, she quickly finds a problem halfway across the world to indulge herself in just to get away from her children. Someday, I will actually write this story.

[vamphorica]

mattmello week vi: daily rituals

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Death Note (Anime & Manga)

Relationship: Matt | Mail Jeevas/Mello | Mihael Keehl

Characters: Matt | Mail Jeevas, Mello | Mihael Keehl

Additional Tags: Diary/Journal, Routine, Surveillance, Childhood Memories, Rituals, POV Mello | Mihael Keehl, Unhappy Ending, Canon Compliant, Religion

Word Count: 3,127

Series: Part 6 of MattMello Week 2024 | @mattmelloweek

Summary: A day in the life of Matt and Mello, towards the end.

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But I always knew that in the end no one was coming to save me / So I just prayed and I keep praying and praying and praying – ‘Sun Bleached Flies’, Ethel Cain

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5.49am

I wake up.

Since arriving in Japan, I haven’t been sleeping particularly well. I have always been an early riser, but as I rub the sleep from my eyes I cannot deny the crushing fatigue that a four hour sleep has cursed unto me. My mind is restless as what I assume to be dreams are instead insistent thoughts that will eventually force me back to the reality of the world before I am ready. I cannot imagine that I will be heading back to the States any time soon, but the reminder of those deep sleeps that would leave me feeling refreshed seem distant and strange, now that I often find myself rising before the sun.

I struggle out of Matt’s tight embrace, carelessly throwing his arms away as I shift out of bed. When we were younger, and had taken to the habit of sleeping in the same bed, I used to lie awake for hours in the morning, worried that I would wake him up, but it didn’t take long before I realised that he remains dead to the world once he does fall asleep, and no amount of movement on my part would return him to consciousness. He did complain about waking up to an empty bed several times, but as it became clear that he would have to sacrifice his general habit to arise at noon, we came to the conclusion that I will never be lying next to him when he does wake up. Sitting up, I turn around to look at him, and notice the twat has slept in his goggles, again. I pull them off his head, prompting a small – but oblivious – grunt.

6.11am

I have a quick shower and shave my face, a slight sprinkling of stubble I had never expected to arrive now emerging in a lazy, useless way. With half my face burnt to fuck, any possible desire I may have had to grow it out is now rendered impossible, and it feels like a chore to run the razor over my chin.

Matt’s energy drinks are waiting for me in the fridge, and I decide one will be sufficient for breakfast this morning. I take a can with me to what can only be described as our living room, although we haven’t exactly gone all out with the furnishings. A sofa and an armchair sit jauntily before a small coffee table piled with wires and laptops in a mess that if I didn’t have five thousand things higher on my list of priorities, I would sort out immediately. Matt has more time than I do, but seems perfectly content with this pile of shit now spilling over the floor, so I guess I too will work around it. I retrieve my laptop and set it on my lap, popping open the tab of the drink and taking an indulgent swig. I feel more awake now than I will for the rest of the day, so I need to take advantage of my heightened energy to analyse the transcripts from Yagami and Takada’s conversation in the hotel that I typed up last night, and try to follow up the lead Halle provided to me pertaining to Near’s progress with the investigation. She is never explicit with what the SPK is up to, reminding me that she’s not on either of our sides, but she lets enough slip that I am relatively confident she is putting more faith in me than her supposed boss.

I put on my headphones and get to work.

10.17am

I take a break. There is only so much I can put myself through of Yagami’s nauseating sweet talk and Takada’s conservative, yet highly flattered, responses. Initially, I thought she was genuinely impressed by his charisma, believing the son of a bitch in his oozing compliments and flirtations, but I now have reason to believe she is putting on just as much of a performance, noting how perfect their dialogue appears to be. It is like listening to an episode from one of those romance shows that middle aged women seem to flock to as a means to escape the dull mundanity of their loveless marriages. The conversations have to be scripted and, on one occasion when Matt edited the audio to isolate the background noise, it became clear that the sound of a pen against paper could be heard faintly as they threw words like ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ at each other for hours on end.

I think of Matt and I, the way we talk to each other. Maybe there is something to be said with gay relationships being more complex, but even with all his ‘babe’s and softly whispered ‘Mihael’s, I believe there is something more intentional and less gratuitous about the whole affair. Light speaks to women as if they are only a gentle word away from falling at his feet to kiss them, and maybe it is the arrogance that pisses me off more so than the language itself. It has never been that simple between myself and Matt, we have exchanged as many cruel insults at one another as we have terms of endearment, but I prefer the challenge of reality to this smarmy expectation of loyalty that he possesses.

Chocolate is always within reach, and I idly slide a hand beneath the surface of the table to retrieve a bar from the large box I had shipped over. I haven’t exactly had the time to go taste testing what Japan has to offer, and while I don’t doubt it has a myriad of decent options, I need the reassurance of familiarity in my habits, so I threw money at a website that imported Cadbury’s. I believe it is a necessary expense.

I hear the bed creaking in the other room, and feel an urge to go stare at Matt, which I promptly find myself doing. As I expected, he is still asleep, the pillow I used now a substitute in his clingy arms. I flip open my phone and take a picture, cursing the shutter sound that Japanese phones have built in to avoid perverts taking photos beneath schoolgirls’ skirts. I should really be given the right to take pictures of my conked out boyfriend whenever I damn please, but other than a slight twitch in his fingers, there is no reason to think that I disturbed him, so I leave him be, reminding myself that I hardly have another moment to spare fucking about anyway. There is more work to be done.

12.02pm

I am graced by Matt’s presence. He appears in the doorway wearing nothing but a large t-shirt and underwear, adopting the mannerisms of a small child ready to inform me that he has thrown up. It will take him about an hour before he can hold an intelligible conversation with me, but I nod at him nevertheless to indicate I am aware he has made it through the night, and the entire morning as well.

I let him wander around the flat, my headphones doing very little to muffle his heavy footing as he roots for something edible in the cupboards. I have been trying to get past the SPK firewall with Halle’s cryptic prompts but with Matt now awake, I will get him to sort it out this afternoon.

“We have no food.” Matt announces from the kitchen, knowing that I’m not going to give him any chocolate. He would have to be on the brink of starvation before I even considered being so generous. Did I mention how expensive it was getting it flown over here from the UK? It alerts me to my own hunger, however, and I close my laptop and tell him to go out and grab us sandwiches, or something. He comes back into view, looking lost.

Fine. I will come with him.

1.07pm

The nearest convenience store is just short of ten minutes from the apartment, and once Matt has dressed himself and had a go at brushing his teeth for all of ten seconds, we are out of the door and walking down the street. The neighbourhood we are currently residing in is practically empty during the day, and as useful as that can be, it makes me feel distant and secluded in comparison to the places I have lived before. I have done well in the company of others, more so than many in the House can attest to. While I think Matt is happy enough to hang by my side without much fuss, I do yearn for the crowds, the business of human beings going about their lives. This small residential strip feels almost unused, too pristine to deal with people in any genuine manner. I suppose most people feel the need to perform now; one mistake can cost you your life. Some don’t have the luxury of opting for innocence in a Kira dominated world, and I feel confronted by the discomfort of privilege here.

The cashier at the store recognises us – of course she does, we are two foreigners and the fuck-off scar is not my most discreet feature. Then again, I fear Matt and I have never cared much for subtlety. We return the greeting she enthusiastically ejects and stare at rows of freshly made sandwiches that look slightly artificial in their packaging. Matt picks up a couple, staring at them before returning them to the shelf. I ask him what he wants, and he grunts unhelpfully. I can hardly chastise him for being picky. The House failed us in many ways but was compellingly successful in its ability to make each and every one of us exceptionally picky eaters. I tell Matt to hurry up and choose something, because my hunger is beginning to manifest into irritation and I want to return to the flat as soon as possible.

I grab a salad, and after about a minute, Matt settles on an egg sandwich. Brilliant. I snatch it out of his hand and go pay for them, before shoving him back out into the bright winter day.

2.29pm

Back at the flat, we have picked at our lunch to an extent with which we feel satisfied and Matt is chatting away about nothing in particular, but I don’t mind because I like hearing him talk, even if it is bullshit that I am not remotely interested in. I have managed to gauge that he is explaining some technical aspect of one of his new DS games, which allows me to hum in response every so often to indicate that I do care and that I just so happen to be working at the same time. I don’t know how he believes I am focusing on what he is saying when he knows I can only concentrate in absolute silence, but the morning was lonely without him so I seem able to forgo work for the sake of his rambling explanations.

2.34pm

It is time to get back to work.

I direct Matt to the extent of my attempt in breaching the SPK security system myself, and he gives it a look over before telling me he can get it done within the hour. What this really means is that he will get it done in about three hours, not because he isn’t exceptionally quick at what he does, but his ability to maintain attention is nonexistent. His gaming consoles sit on the table like a tempting siren, and as much as I would like to chuck them in the bedroom so he can dedicate his full concentration to the task at hand, I have a sense that he will strop, which will only make him work slower to spite me. It is far better to let him get distracted every fifteen minutes and make progress than to have him actively slow us down.

Relationships are about compromise, I remind myself diligently, and God only knows that I compromise with Matt more often than not.

In the meantime, I begin writing out a detailed summary of my findings so far in my notebook. I have taken to using it to try and make sense of the information I have collected so I can begin creating some sort of plan. Although I know it is part of the job, I have grown increasingly tired of sitting around taking notes and my need to do something more substantial is gnawing at me incessantly. I can lay low to gather intelligence, or to speculate about certain circumstances that I have high reason to believe are occurring, but without taking action, it feels like yet another House assignment, all theory and no initiative. I don’t think Near has some kind of bombshell on his system that I would need in order to advance my own investigation, but if I can get an insight into what conclusions he is coming to, I can begin making the appropriate moves to get ahead of him. Being in Japan while he is still in the States is certainly advantageous.

7.56pm

Matt tells me that the breach is taking him longer than he expected, and that he is going out for a smoke break. I have reason to believe him if only because he has reached for his DS just twice in the past few hours. I hear the front door close behind him and underline ‘fake notebook’ twice before sitting back and letting my focus drift momentarily as the tiredness once again catches up to me. I know realistically I won’t be in bed until the early hours again, but the thoughts that swim around my mind feel, at times, overwhelming. I know that without a solid lead, I am still condemned to these days of running through plans again and again while we are continuously losing time.

My phone rings. It is Halle. I imagine she is calling to mention that they have been alerted to an attempted security breach, so I pick up without thinking much about it at all.

8.04pm

I don’t notice Matt immediately. Instead I hold my head in my hands, staring at the floor. There is no point detailing the specificities of what Halle explained to me on the phone, because I suppose I had always suspected that I might receive such a call. In a sense, it was what I had been wanting to hear, really, an invitation to action. Just enough information to let me know that I need to do something now, because I will never have the chance to do so again. Even she sounded concerned, and quite honestly, I have never heard her tone waver when she so effortlessly manages to convey calmness, even with a gun barrel against the back of her head.

The question is not whether I will intervene – that is a given – but rather, how I will. Oddly, a sense of clarity silences my mind in consideration of the conclusiveness of what the next, and final, act is for me to pursue. There is no way I will manage to conduct a plan that is as flawless as I would like it to be, and I will have to put a lot of faith in these theories I have constructed. I only have a matter of days to make my move, after all.

I hear Matt say my name. He is standing in the doorway, again. He holds the cigarette carton in one hand, and the other supports him as he leans on the doorframe. I don’t know how long he has been standing there.

“Are you alright?”

I can’t tell him tonight. Maybe I can figure out a way of not telling him at all, to try and keep him in the dark about what is to come. I am concerned that as I make these plans, he will work out what I am doing, or worse yet, I will realise that I require his assistance in some capacity, meaning that I will have to drag him into this shitshow.

I smile, and tell him I’m just tired. He doesn’t appear to believe me, and I don’t expect him to, but he knows better than to try to get me to confess how I am really feeling. He trusts that I will tell him eventually. Sometimes I do.

11.39pm

Matt admits that he is struggling to break into the system, and I say that it is late, so he can try again tomorrow. Honestly, it is not that important anymore. An hour ago, he crawled from his armchair, dragging his laptop over to lean against me as he worked, awkwardly forcing my body to accommodate for his. I snap my notebook shut before he has a chance to glance at my notes. The notes I have written are vague and incoherent, an unhappy mess of ideas for pulling off a final victory that has no real guarantee of success no matter how hard I try to develop it. I instead watch as he types furiously on his keyboard, green text shooting across the black screen, and error messages popping up every few seconds in response. He doesn’t seem as defeated or frustrated as I imagine I would be, but the small sighs indicate that the intrigue of the challenge no longer compels him.

He sets aside his laptop, before twisting his body so that he lies on top of me. It is not long before we are fucking, a familiar night time routine that we often engage in at a much later hour than this, but we have both accepted that the day has come to an end and we are all over one another, resorting to those same techniques we employ every night to hit that pinnacle of pleasure that only we can trust ourselves to deliver. I allow my mind to drift away, focusing only on the intensity of our love for one another, giving myself over to it like a man possessed. We fall into each other’s arms, and it is only through Matt’s weak suggestion that we manage to drag ourselves to the bedroom.

2.00am

I wake up, terrified.

I scramble out of bed, dropping to the floor and grab my rosary from the pile of clothes tossed in the corner. Weaving it around my fingers, I clasp my hands together and prop my elbows up on the mattress, hardly able to see beyond my pale hands in the darkness.

I begin to pray.

[tsuki-no-yomi-project]

Naruto OC Week 2025: Day 2: Friendship

Mitsuki, unlike me the Author... is such a sociable person (meanwhile i hide in darkness and crowd/noise/too much people scares me).

Therefore, she had lots of bonds, lots of them, both with the shinobis and non-shinobi! Here's some of them (based on Part 1 only)

Itachi & Mitsuki on Part 1:

Like Itachi, Mitsuki is very observant, to a fault. Mitsuki is nowhere as powerful as shinobi, but with her cunning she had actually taken out more than a few adults and shinobi by exploiting the moment they let their guard down. Of course, it wouldn't work on Itachi. That triggered a feeling of respect within her, and being a curios sort, selfish and unrestrained free spirit as she was, she forced herself unto the party to find out more about the world, with Kisame accidentally easing in her joining and Itachi unable to firmly reject her.

For Itachi, the first time she met Mitsuki, due to her disguise and the innocence in her eye, she reminded him of Sasuke and how a wrong step can turn Sasuke into one like her. Itachi was curious at fault too, as he had always made sure to find out whatever he can about the world, and Mitsuki's existence felt like an odd piece of puzzle that doesn't fit in the world. Given in to quick turn of event, Kisame's misunderstanding, and Mitsuki's determination, he ended up accepting the uncontrollable storm into his party.

Overall, Mitsuki is very respectful towards Itachi, and don't want to burden him even as she joined them forcefully. She always looks forward to moments where she can be of use for them as her view of transactional value still dictated her. Itachi's subtle kindness was obvious to her despite the facade he kept on and his attempt of distancing himself from her.

On Itachi's side, he don't want to involve Mitsuki with Akatsuki, yet he somehow couldn't leave her alone. Unable to make a clear decision, he had just gone with the flow. Curious about Mitsuki's weird condition and how her ability worked, and ended up becoming her mentor along the way as he helped her experimenting with the limit of her power. As time goes, Mitsuki's personality and her unique approach slowly become a refreshing breeze for the party. His concern for her life choices and future as well as his gut feeling that Mitsuki can read through him, allowed him to be slightly more vulnerable and honest during their private interaction as Mitsuki slowly broke through his walls, one by one.

------

Kisame & Mitsuki part 1:

They started off hating/disrespecting each other.

To Mitsuki, Kisame was this cold hearted guy that almost shreded her neck apart. To Kisame, she was this crazy murderous brat who could kill, bury, and hide her victims without any sense of remorse.

Eventually, they fight a lot and Kisame couldn't help but want to get rid of her, but somehow along the way, their relationship grow into that of siblings with Kisame as the annoying older brother and Mitsuki as troublesome/fun to tease little sister. This is because of Mitsuki's display of maturity and sharpness that changed Kisame's image of her, and Kisame's unexpected kindness and support that made Mitsuki see him in a new light. Gradually, they become more respectful towards each other even as they still tease/banter/prank each other, a lot. Mitsuki's joining of the party also provided Kisame with conversation partner, considering how quiet Itachi usually is, and Kisame brought out the more fun part of her personality and her childishness.

When it's the three of them, the dynamic is more alive and balanced :3 Here's some extra moment of them as trio~

----

Mitsuki & People she meet along the journey:

This girl is determined to set out and see the world, connect with a lot of people, and understand others and herself better. Because of that, she had often befriended people she meet along the way during her free time, and each and every of them have plenty of thing to teach her. Some of the earliest people who had impacted her was Hazuki, a clothes shop proprietress, who cared for her sincerely despite her being a stranger. She made Mitsuki question her manipulative method and if that is truly the way she want to experience her journey in.

The 2nd one, but one of the most important is Aida, a civilian teenage girl, who taught and show Mitsuki about a different kind of affection called love. Even after Mitsuki left the village she were in, she still kept in contact with her, once she figured out a letter delivery method.

In some relationship, she shows more maturity, being a protector to those she care about, like with Kodon Kina and Kodon Reishi

Other, doesn't necessarily ends well.. Even so, if I keep typing I'll be rambling, so.. for more feel free to read them on my fic (shameless promo)

@narutoocweek

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for August 16, 2024

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 22:28 (KJV): 28 Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set. Proverbs 22:28 (AMP): 28 Remove not the ancient landmark which your fathers have set.

Thought for the Day

This verse has both natural and spiritual implications. Landmarks in ancient Israel marked property boundaries. A stone, a stake, or other monument was used to establish and prevent infringement of property rights. A wicked person would remove a landmark, either out of coveting someone else's property or to mislead people in order to attack them. In Western cultures, a landmark has come to mean primarily some conspicuous object or building that serves as a guide to travelers. Therefore, this verse is telling us to respect the property rights of others, as well as the hereditary rights that our fathers have set up in the past. Neither should we tear down a marker that is used for guidance. This causes confusion and can cause people to lose their way. For instance, when I go back to my old home town, they have changed the streets and torn down old buildings. I cannot find my way around and must get a new map or ask a local person for directions. This does not mean we should not change things for the better - but with change we need to consider those who look for the old landmarks, and identify the old streets by leaving or referencing the old names.

Young Christians should respect their elders' boundaries. There are reasons for the boundaries, and the younger generation would be wise to honor them. This is actually part of obeying the commandment to honor our parents (Exodus 20:12). Young people, in their desire for independence, will often disregard their elders' advice, sometimes to their own detriment. Satan is trying to rid our nation of the ancient moral landmarks that our founding forefathers set in place, especially the Ten Commandments. He knows that without these standards in the earth, he will be able to destroy society. Without respect for authority, our world will be reduced to chaos.

The same can also apply to teachings. Some of the so-called "new" teachings in the Church are really not new at all, but old erroneous ones. They are "winds of doctrine" that toss people to and fro. The Lord gave the church apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers to help us walk in the right way, that we may mature in Christ. It is wisdom to listen to our godly church elders. "And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers; For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ: Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ: That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive; But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ" (Ephesians 4:11-14).

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, I thank you for the elders in my family, and also the church elders before me, who have paved the way for my life to be blessed. Even though I qualify for this office myself, may I always be childlike and humble in realizing that without my elders, I would not be one today. May I always honor and appreciate them. Help me to respect the young people in my life and not discard their ideas, but be able to embrace those ideas that come from You, not allowing pride to prevent me from recognizing the things You are giving them. Lord, may You restore the hearts of the fathers to the children in our day. I ask this in the name of Jesus. Amen From: Steven P. Miller, @ParkermillerQ, gatekeeperwatchman.org Founder and Administrator of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Group Thursday, August 15, 2024, Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA.  X … @ParkermillerQ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA, Instagram: steven_parker_miller_1956 #GWIG, #GWIN, #GWINGO.

[a-godman]

The Kingdom of God is Christ Growing in us until He is Transfigured Within us

The kingdom of God is the transfiguration of the Lord Jesus, for whenever the Lord Jesus is transfigured within us to be manifested through us, that is the kingdom of God coming in power (see Mark 9:1-2). Amen! God wants to bring in His kingdom on the earth, and the work of God today is mainly to bring in the kingdom of God. On on hand, we need to do many works in the church life, works that…

[mllemaenad]

So ... the stuff with the Emperor. I am somewhat twitchy about designating a group of people as always evil, especially since the game has noted that several races "used to be" considered evil, but now are not. But I can see illithids always being ... antagonistic, as a group, at best. Because they eat people. And unless they can stop eating people, having an illithid friend is always going to be problematic, even if they have no actual plans for world domination.

There's Omeluum, in the underdark, and while I would not say I've interacted with it enough to confirm it is what it says it is, there - at least at face value - is a "good" mind flayer. It's still very much eating people, though. Researching ways to stop doing that, and good for it, but still eating people. Eating "bad" people, sure, but defining "bad" and when being eaten alive would be a reasonable punishment for that is a whole other damn issue.

But the story the Emperor told me isn't ... quite adding up for me. Or else the lore isn't adding up.

From the start of the game, I assumed illithid infection was a matter of incubation. That is, the tadpole in your brain was a person unto itself, and it was going to both feed on you and use your body as a kind of trellis to grow to maturity. In True Souls, the growth was arrested, so no mind flayer was actually erupting out of a body, and the tadpole was consuming little if any brain matter. In the case of your party, even its influence was limited by the presence of the artifact, which turned out to hold an imprisoned githyanki with super powers.

That matched nicely with the things Lae'zel said about infections, about them consuming everything you were, and with the symptoms of infection as described: fever, memory loss, delirium. It sounded as though a person was being eaten alive.

But then the Emperor turns up and claims to be an adventurer who was transformed. It claims to be the same person it was it was before the infection. If true, that would mean that illithids were only "evil" because they themselves were mind controlled. Without that, they'd just be people with unfortunate dietary needs. And, well, we're still hanging out with Astarion for some reason, so this party does not have reasonable grounds to complain about that.

And it could be true. Sure. What do I know about illithids? Lae'zel's information could be wrong. We do know at least some of what she knows is more githyanki propaganda than truth.

Except.

Well, for a starters Withers makes a whole speech about mind flayers not having souls. Now - I don't even believe in souls, so that's not something I'd even consider without being prompted by the narrative. In any fantasy setting where ghosts and souls are assumed to exist, I tend to equate soul with person. If someone is talking to me, they've got a soul. Illithids possibly being terrible people is irrelevant to that question.

Under other circumstances, I'd dismiss this as simple prejudice. But one, this does seem to be Withers' area of expertise and two, it's presented as a plot point: the gods should be attempting to gather souls, but they are not, they are gathering soulless mind flayers who ought to be useless to them. It's weird enough to be worthy of comment.

If the Emperor were a human or elf or whatever, and was transformed into a mind flayer, then it ought to have a soul. Because if there's continuity of personhood, it wouldn't make sense for it to not have a soul.

And then there's the windmill horror. I went the wrong way when doing a quest hunting for lost letters, because I missed that the guy said west and assumed the trail of blood I found was related to the dead pigeons. I followed it to a windmill, picked the lock and went snooping. Inside was a newborn mind flayer - and I could ask it if it had been the one screaming. Its response? No, those were the dying screams of its vessel. It actually delighted in the anguish and terror of the man it emerged from. This wasn't a distressed person who had just undergone an unexpected species change. This was a wholly new person, with little sympathy for its vessel.

So ... barring the arrival of any new evidence that makes the Emperor somehow exempt from this, it does not seem as though it could be who it says it is. I mean - it's entirely possible it incubated in an adventurer. That's as likely as anything else. But every piece of information I can find apart from its story indicates that that adventurer died screaming, and a long time ago.

Which in turn means that this story seems like just as much a masquerade as the business of dressing up as something from the character creator.

"Hey, one of your allies is a friendly illithid!" would not necessarily make me suspicious. I mean - we've got a mummy that raises our souls for pocket change, a priestess who came back from the dead, and very frank demi-goddess, so sure, why not?

But these repeated attempts to convince me that it is in some sense not really an illithid? When every indication is that it is? That I do not trust at all.

[bellofthemeadow]

Dawn Ends the Night | Chapter 4

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 5.5k

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: After Aemond saved you, you are presented to court.

Notes: New character unlocked! Hello you guys, I am so happy to be back with a new chapter, its not necessarily a filler chapter, but it is definitely a "move the plot along" chapter. Can you believe that we are still on the same day the Lady Dayne arrive to King's Landing?! Sorry for the snail's pace. but I really like to dig deep into the psyche of the characters. It should start moving a bit faster now.

ALSO, omg you guys were so kind with all the love you gave me, and I am so happy that you are enjoying this story 🥰 Your comments and reblogs are fueling this story, so thank you so much xxx

Unto the story, LMK what you all thinks and if there are some things you would like to see, feel free to tell me 💜💜💜

Love you all

Taglist: @duds31 , @snh96, @lol-im-done, @heavenly1927, @whimsywilde , @queen-123s-posts , @httyd-marauders , @singhfae ,

The Iron Throne

Perros despised King’s Landing he hated everything about it from its oppressive heat to the humidity that was always thick with a constant, putrid stench that reeked of death and desperation. Having lived most of his youth on the streets of Sunspear, he had thought himself familiar with poverty and misery of those of lesser means. Yet, after just a day navigating the Captial’s streets, he realized how mistaken he had been; even the most destitute street urchin in Dorne seemed to live like a king compared to those in Flea Bottom. 

As the evening sky started to fall and dim on their first day in the city, Perros was dumbstruck that his lord would still consent to leave his only daughter to languish in such a dismal place.  Perros had always felt a close connection to his young lady. He had after all, witnessed the young lady’s youth and had watched her grow from a little sapling to an elegant and beautiful cherry tree. He had even been present at her birth, and Perros was certain he was the first outside the immediate family to cradle you after you entered the world –screaming and crying face scrunched up and as red as a little tomato. Perros still vividly remembered how small and fragile you had looked in his large, scarred hands. The future Lady of Starfall, your father had declared. Perros had also been there for your first steps, the first time you went in the Dornish Desert, the first time you had swum in the Torrentine. Perros had seen all of the work and expectations placed on your young shoulders as the future ruling lady of Starfall – and he had seen it all snatched away after the birth of Gerris.  

Perros could still remember when life was simpler, in those days he would follow you around Starfall, ensuring your safety – running after you as you would try to evade your tutors, twirling on your small pudgy legs. Perros may not have been your father by blood, but his love for you was no less than that of a true parent and he had always taken immense pride in your achievements and when your birthright was passed over in favor of your younger brother, Perros had felt such a deep outrage. So much so that he had been willing to take arms in your name. Despite his respect for your father, he could never fully reconcile with the decision to favor Westerosi customs over the Dornish practice of absolute primogeniture, which held no bias against gender in inheritance and would have seen you on the starry seat. This injustice had always kindled a flame of discontent in his heart, and he had vowed that if your father would not, he would always do right by you.  

And today he failed you.  

When your party had just arrived in the city, like when you were a child, you had managed to elude Perros' vigilant watch. He had been so preoccupied with surveying potential threats around the carriage that he hadn't noticed your discreet departure. The mere thought of what could have happened had the one-eyed prince not intervened sent shivers down his spine. He shuddered at the possibilities and although he could not help but find the boy an arrogant sniveling prince that was unworthy of even licking the ground you walked on; he was nonetheless grateful for the boy’s intervention.  

Only a few hours had passed since the turmoil at the market, and following the Queen and the Hand's directive, The Dayne retinue had taken some time to recuperate and prepare for the formal introduction at court. Much to Perros’s amusement, you had taken much of that brief respite to caring for the scruffy young boy you had rescued from the market. You diligently scrubbed him clean, his skin eventually taking on a healthy glow. Later, after Prince Aemond had insisted on being led to your chambers, you even spent part of the afternoon in his company, a fact that Perros found utterly unbecoming of royal decorum. 

He stood guard, silently observing as the prince awkwardly assisted in managing the boy. Aemond held Davos firmly, yet his stiffness and apparent disconnection from the warmth of your smile struck Perros as wholly unsuitable for someone of your worth. In the guard’s eyes, the prince's rigid demeanor and aloofness did not befit someone worthy of your affection or regard. 

After an hour, Perros had gruffly shuffle the dragon prince outside of the room, refusing to listen to his backward grumbling or your insistence that he could stay. While you were changing? Absolutely not. Perros had remained firm, you needed time to prepare before meeting the rest of the dragons and their Hightower kin. Snakes. Snakes wearing dragon skins, but snakes nonetheless, Perros thought.  

Following Prince Aemond's departure, you entrusted Davos and your brother Gerris to the capable hands of your trusted maid, the same one who had taken care of you alongside Perros’ watchful eyes. Athna, with her years of experience and her motherly touch, gently herded the two boys, softly silencing their childish protests, away for a much-needed nap. Gerris, though the young heir to Starfall, was still too tender in years to be formally introduced at court and the bond he had swiftly formed with Davos, it seemed already impossible to separate them – the boys had become friends since their introduction earlier in the day and Davos’ presence in the throne room would be deemed inappropriate. For common born lads do not belong at court with well-bred folk, Perros thought, yet he was welcome and regardless of his birth he was the captain of the guard for House Dayne, had been for the past 15 years. Birth mattered less so in Dorne, perhaps the lad could come with them and leave this putrid city behind, Perros pondered, and Lady Dayne could come back with them and they could all forget about this business.  

Upon his return to escort, you to the throne room, Perros was met with a vision that nearly brought tears to his eyes. There you were, no longer the little girl who hung unto his legs and begged for stories of the desert, but a captivating beauty with wisdom in her eyes. Your dress, a delicate lilac silk intricately embroidered with stars, hugged your form in a way that highlighted your softness and elegance. It was a sight that filled Perros with immense pride, yet also a twinge of sadness. The young charge he had watched over for so many years had blossomed before his eyes into a dignified lady, ready to step into the world. 

"You are a sight for these old eyes, my lady," Perros uttered, his voice quivering with emotions.  

You faced Perros with a gentle, self-effacing smile. "You know, after the day's events, you'd think I'd feel more prepared for this. I mean, I barely escaped having my head chopped off in the street," you said with a light, self-deprecating laugh. "And I have even met my betrothed. And surprisingly, I think we might get along well. But I am still so nervous.”  

Perros let out a snort at your observation. "That boy should count himself fortunate just to breathe the same air as you, my lady," he remarked. 

You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment. "Oh, please, Ser. Le us not speak ill of him. After all, Aemond is a prince – and a most gracious one at that." You teased.  

"A prince of a realm that holds no sway in Dorne," Perros countered dryly. 

Your laughter rang out, light and carefree. "You have quite the knack for diplomacy, Ser," you teased. 

Perros responded with a half-smile. "My sword is the only diplomat I need." 

Your eyes sparkled with mirth. "Perhaps it's best to keep that sort of diplomacy sheathed when we enter the throne room," you suggested with a wink. 

Perros let out a soft snort and watched you attentively as you stood before the mirror, expertly arranging your hair under the elegant hairnet your mother had given you, the shiny strands of your hair framing your face with grace. 

The room fell into a heavy silence, filled only by the soft rustling of your gown. Perros's gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a mix of fondness and concern. His voice, when he finally spoke, was thick with emotion. "My Lady, just give me the word, and I'll whisk you away on the next ship. We can escape to somewhere far from here, away from dragons, from politics. I could take you back to Dorne – to Princess Aliandra. The Martell would look after you!" 

You offered him a melancholic smile, "Your loyalty has always been unwavering, ser Perros," you replied gently. "But we both know fleeing is not an option. It never was an option. I love my family too deeply to abandon them. And as for Prince Aemond..." You paused, your gaze lingering on your reflection as you blushed slightly. "He saved my life. Perhaps being his wife won't be the dreadful fate I once imagined." 

"A cocky dragonling, that's all he is," Perros grumbled under his breath. 

"You have always been overly protective, dear Ser," you said with a soft chuckle. Hugging yourself, you looked thoughtful. "Do you think I can handle it? This life at court?" 

Perros met your soft gaze in the mirror, "There's no one more gracious or better prepared for such a task than you, my lady." His voice betrayed a hint of sadness. "Even if it pains me to say it as it means acknowledging how much you've grown." 

Your smile was bittersweet, as you let out a breathy laugh. "I remember when you'd carry me back to bed after I'd sneak out to watch the stars on the ramparts." 

"I've earned many gray hairs because of you," Perros snorted warmly, "You were a handful, my lady, but you touched my heart. I'd do anything to see you happy." 

"I might not find happiness," you mused, "but perhaps I can find contentment." 

"That's not enough," Perros insisted softly. 

 You looked at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what would truly make me happy, Perros?" 

He straightened, ready for your command. "Just say the word, my lady." 

"I would like you to take care of Davos. Teach him everything you know. I want more for him than the life he's had so far. I do not want him to be alone anymore.” 

Perros snorted gruffly "That little Davos, eh? He's a scrawny thing, but with the right care, I suppose he could grow strong. He's got spirit, that one." 

You nodded. "He is a fighter; he just needs a chance. And with Gerris already taking a liking to him, I'm sure he shall fit right in with the rest of the family." 

Perros raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear in his voice. "And you think the royal family will just accept a Flea Bottom urchin in their midst?" 

You smiled, a hint of mischief in your expression. "Maybe they will have to. I've already spoken to Prince Aemond about it, and he has agreed to discuss it with his mother." 

Perros huffed, "And you trust him?" 

"He's given me no reason not to trust him," you replied steadily. "He saved my life, Perros. And he seemed genuine about helping Davos." 

Perros sighed, the lines on his face deepening with worry. "My lady, your heart is too open, too trusting. It worries me, what others might do with such kindness. You wear this cloak of a ghost, trying to shield yourself, but I see through it.” Perros took a small breath, before softly continuing “Your heart is too large, too exposed. Be cautious, my lady. Don't let them take advantage of your goodness.” 

Approaching Perros, you reached out and wrapped your arms around the seasoned guard, holding him tight. "You've always been my rock, Perros. Believe in me a little, will you? You have taught me everything I know after all. " You softly admitted.  

Perros returned the hug, his tone laced with a hint of regret. "I only wish I had more time to teach you... But you remember, don't you? How to defend yourself if necessary?" 

Your laughter was light at his words, "I don't anticipate the need, Perros, but yes, I remember. Between the ribs to make it hurt, straight to the heart to make it quick.”  

He nodded sagely. "And subtly, to leave no trace?" 

"I'm not planning on poisoning my betrothed, Perros!" you chuckled, shaking your head. 

"Just ensuring you're prepared, my lady," Perros replied protectively.  

You smiled warmly. "Thank you, Perros. But let us keep discussions of poison out of these walls, please." 

"I'll do my best, my lady," he promised, his expression softening.  

The sound of knocking interrupted the moment. "My lady, it's time. The court awaits," called a voice from outside.  

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. "No backing down now,” you took a deep breath “Time dance with some dragons.”  

The grandeur of the Targaryen (or perhaps Hightower?) court was a striking blend of both everything you expected and the unimaginable. Its vastness and opulence were just as you had envisioned – expansive windows casting brilliant light across the room, the pervasive symbols of the Seven adorning the walls, and the hall itself, immense in its scale. Dominating the space was the Iron Throne, a chilling emblem of Aegon the Conqueror's might, forged from the molten swords of a thousand defeated foes.  

Yet, as you beheld the throne, a surge of Dornish pride swelled within you. Dorne, after all, had never yielded to the dragonlords. The words of House Martell, "Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken," resonated with a deeper meaning, but it was your own house, House Dayne, that had historically been the shield of the Torrentine. You remembered the tales of your ancestors, steadfastly repelling invaders, or in times of desperation, slowing their advance to buy precious time for the other houses of Dorne to prepare. 

House Dayne had endured much at the hands of the dragons and the Hightowers, but in this moment, amidst the intimidating splendor of the Iron Throne, you felt a sense of covert triumph. Today, it was your family that held a pivotal position of influence, and this knoweldge filled you with quiet confidence as you stood before the throne, the legacy of your house a silent yet potent force at your back. 

Upon nearing the foot of the Iron Throne, your attention was inexorably drawn to Prince Aemond. Positioned regally to the right, he presented a stark contrast to the man you had encountered earlier. His silver hair, which had previously hung loosely, now was arranged in an elegant half-updo, lending him an air of refined sophistication. Dressed in what appeared to be the finest black leather, he exuded an aura of princely dignity, enhanced by the presence of a longsword at his hip. With his hands neatly clasped behind his back, he observed your approach with a piercing blue eye, sharp and discerning. Almost predatory. 

This frigid version of your intended seemed worlds apart from the one who had awkwardly, yet warmly, helped you with Davos. The raw protectiveness he had displayed in the market was now cloaked behind a facade of cool detachment. Standing there, he seemed carved from marble, exuding an air of untouchable, statuesque grandeur, he appeared as a figure from the legends, the embodiment of a Dragon Lord. Observing him in the shadow of the Targaryen throne, standing tall and imperious, it was easy to believe the tales told by the smallfolk – that the Targaryens were more akin to gods than men. Yet, as you stood there, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. This fearsome Dragon lord, Aemond One-Eyed, was the same man who had been struck by a soapy sponge just hours before. The memory of Aemond, momentarily caught off guard and spluttering with indignation, as Davos and Gerris were cackling with glee had somewhat shattered the formidable image he now presented. 

Your gaze swiftly swept past Prince Aemond, landing on the figure seated next to him – from the dark green doublet with the golden pin on his breast, the man could only be Otto Hightower, the hand of the king. Notably absent was the King himself, rumors of the King's failing health had reached Dorne, but to see the throne unoccupied during such a crucial introduction – your presentation as his son’s betrothed and as the first Dornish retinue on Westerosi soil since the Conquest – hinted at a deeper malaise within the realm. 

You pondered whether the King's absence played into the Hightowers' favor. With no monarch to potentially disrupt their schemes, Otto Hightower's influence was unmistakably clear – no number of dragons or wildfire would change that fact; the Hightowers ruled here. Otto’s eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours. There was an almost tangible weight to his gaze, as if he were measuring your worth, gauging whether you would be an asset to his plans or an unforeseen hindrance. 

Next to the throne, your gaze settled on a woman of sophisticated poise with a cascade of dark auburn hair. She was clad in an exquisite gown of deep green samite, the high neckline accentuating her stately bearing. Her attire was accentuated by ruffles of a darker shade at her wrists, and her neck was adorned with a striking necklace of emeralds and onyx, shaped into the symbol of the Seven-pointed star. This must be Queen Alicent, you reasoned. 

Yet, for all her poised appearance, you could discern a subtle undercurrent of anxiety that seemed to ripple beneath her calm facade. It was as if each of her measured movements and serene expressions were carefully orchestrated to mask an inner turmoil that screamed to be released. What mask would you need to wear after your marriage? A face of practiced contentment? Or would you need to seem as cold and lethal as the blades forming the throne, and keep your Dornish warmth to the confine of your husband’s arms? Would he even welcome your warmth, a traitorous voice murmured in your head.  

The Hand of the King's voice broke the silence of the court. "It is my privilege to welcome House Dayne to our court. We greet our Dornish brothers and sisters, and the realm rejoices in embracing them back into its fold." The words, spoken with a calculated warmth, hung in the air, but their reception among the courtiers was mixed. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and you could feel the undercurrent of barely veiled disdain for your kin. 

As you stood there, your mother's firm grip on your bicep served as a silent reminder of the facade you needed to maintain, while your father's smile, a practiced mask that barely concealed the distaste in his eyes, echoed the sentiments of your own heart. 

“Dorne has long sought friendship between our two noble and valiant kingdoms," your father began, his voice smooth and measured. "As lord of house Daynes, whose lineage traces back to the Dawn Age, it is my honor to mend the rifts that have long divided our kin. And given today’s events, perhaps a touch of Dornish wisdom is precisely what this city needs.” 

 Otto visibly bristled at your father's veiled critique. “Indeed, an unfortunate incident," he conceded, his words tinged with a forced calmness. "Though, it must be said, had your daughter adhered to the expected bearing of a lady—safely ensconced within her carriage—such an unpleasantness might have been averted.” 

Your father opened his mouth to respond, but you swiftly interjected, your tone honeyed yet edged with steel. “Or perhaps the crown should offer a timely reminder for the city watch that an overzealous exercise of power is not always necessary or justified." 

A collective intake of breath echoed through the room; Otto's face contorted like someone who had sucked on a sour lemon. He quickly masked his reaction, regaining his poise. "Indeed, my lady. A most astute observation. Perhaps you would grace one of our small council meetings with your insights. We would be most delighted to benefit from your wisdom." 

The throne room buzzed with suppressed snickers and whispers. Mocking. Mocking you. Mocking your ideas and your lineage, bastards you thought. Meanwhile, you noticed Aemond, his fists clenched in barely contained anger seething next to his grandfather.  

With a poised smile that belied the storm brewing within, you replied, "I would welcome such an opportunity, Your Grace. I am heartened by your gracious invitation." 

Otto's brow furrowed, readying a sharp retort, but before the words could leave his lips, Queen Alicent smoothly stepped in. "We are indeed relieved that you emerged from the ordeal unharmed, my lady," she began, her voice calm yet carrying across the room. The murmur of courtiers filled the air as she continued. "My son Aemond has spoken highly of your courage, particularly your selfless act in defending a young boy at great risk to yourself." Her gaze swept across the assembly, her expression one of sincere admiration. "Such gallantry is truly commendable and speaks volumes of your character. It has always been my belief that the woman who would marry my son must possess a resilience of spirit. I am glad that it turned out to be the case, my lady." 

Trust. This was the unspoken question that hung heavy in the air. Are you with us or against us? Her gaze seemed to demand. What role will you play in this game of thrones, and how will you influence my son? The queen’s warm gaze seemed to demand. 

What was your endgame? Even you could not definitively say. Your heart pulsed with your love for your homeland, the desire to serve your family, to protect those you cherished. But could you extend that loyalty to this new, intertwined Hightower-Targaryen lineage? Could they become your family too? 

Your eyes flicked towards Aemond, whose demeanor was a volatile mix of restraint and simmering anger. A wrong word and he looked like he might explode. The words of his grandfather seemed to have struck a nerve, yet there was something more beneath that tempestuous surface. In the brief hours since your paths had crossed, he had shattered the rumors of his cold-hearted nature, showing glimpses of kindness and vulnerability. Could you learn to understand... nay to love this enigmatic prince who had saved your life? To become his partner, a bridge between Dayne and Targaryen, nurturing future heirs who would one day soar the skies on dragonback? Your mind wandered, envisioning a child with silver hair and laughing eyes, astride a majestic purple dragon, Dawn gleaming in their small hand. 

"I too am relieved, Your Grace," you replied respectfully. "Prince Aemond's actions were both brave and just. His courage in defending not only me but also the ideals of his house was commendable. You have every reason to be proud of him." 

Alicent's expression softened at your words, you had said the right thing apparently. She stepped forward, her movement graceful and composed, and gently took your hands in hers. She smiled, and there was warmth in her eyes, trying to get a read on you, on your intention. She seemed satisfied with what she saw because she slowly tugged you with her toward the dais. Your parents' expressions briefly registered surprise and a touch of apprehension at this unexpected development as you were drawn away from them. 

With your hands still clasped in the queen's, she led you closer to the throne, positioning you beside Prince Aemond. A flicker of panic crossed his features as you stood there, a mere breath away from him, you could feel the twitches of his fingers next to your hands- his presence was so overwhelming it was almost crushing.  You could hear Queen Alicent (or was it the Hand?) drone on in front of the court, but all you could feel, hear and see was Aemond.  

"Prince Aemond," you whispered playfully. 

Aemond, his voice equally low replied, "Lady Dayne." 

"It is a pleasure to see you again, my prince," you continued, the corners of your mouth curving into a subtle smile. 

"We saw each other merely two hours ago, my lady." he pointed out. 

"A lifetime for some prince Aemond," you quipped lightly. "I would have thought my absence might weigh heavily on my betrothed's heart." 

Aemond appeared momentarily lost for words, his usual composure faltering. While Queen Alicent continued her discourse on duty and loyalty, you maintained a facade of rapt attention, though a sly smile played on your lips.  

"Surely, you have missed me in these past few hours, my prince?" you murmured under your breath, the hint of a tease in your tone. "A betrothed left unmissed is a grievous oversight, would you not you agree?" Aemond, caught off guard, struggled to respond. 

Reproachfully, Aemond looked at you with a glower of distrust "You find amusement in mocking me, my lady?" 

"No, only in the delightful shade of pink you turn when lightly ribbed," you teased, observing as his ears flushed a deeper shade. 

Aemond cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "It has been some time since anyone dared to make such jests with me. To tease a dragonrider takes a certain fearlessness. Some would say stupidity even." 

"Is the great Vhagar present in this room, then?" you inquired with mock seriousness. "I see no mighty she-dragon poised to devour me." 

A soft chuckle escaped Aemond's lips, but it was cut short by a stern glance from his grandfather. The Hand's disapproval was evident and was seeping through his every pore, which you could see even from his position on the throne. Was Otto Hightower regretting the alliance already? How quickly to make an antagonist of one of the most powerful men in the realm, this calls for an award, you thought morosely. 

“I pray that Davos has recuperated from the ordeal?” 

You smile, “It depends; the attack in the market or the forced bath? If it's the former, I believe he has bounced back quite resiliently. As for the bath, well, I fear the poor boy might carry that trauma for some time, given the intensity of his protests. 

You glanced at Aemond's hair playfully, "I must say, your hair seems to have weathered the soapy siege remarkably well. I'm relieved, really. It would have been a tragedy to see such fine, silken locks come to any harm." 

Aemond's response was a tad unimpressed "You do me too much honour with your flattery, my lady," he sarcastically uttered. Then, in a softer voice, he added, "I'm relieved to hear the boy has not been too deeply affected by today's ordeal." 

You nodded, "Davos is a resilient child. For now, I have entrusted him to the care of my knight, Ser Perros. He is to teach Davos everything he once taught me. I have every hope that he will grow to be strong and fearless, never again to be a victim of brutality." 

"Is it a customary practice in Dorne for a knight to oversee a young lady's upbringing?" Aemond inquired. 

You offered a light shrug, "Ser Perros was not responsible for my formal education, but he ensured I would never be defenseless. Despite what transpired in the market, I assure you, I am far from helpless." 

Aemond's voice was soft, his gaze still fixed ahead as Queen Alicent continued her discourse. "I would not dare to think otherwise, my lady," he said. "Your courage outshines that of many men of greater size and strength. I myself know of a young boy who would have wished for nothing more than to have a guardian as valiant as you when the time called for it." 

Twice now, Aemond had mentioned this young boy - once at the market and again just moments ago. Curiosity bubbled within you. Who was this boy? Did Aemond genuinely know him, or was this some sort of strategy to charm you? To humanize himself to you? Your gaze discreetly swept over his striking profile: the pronounced aquiline nose, the defined jawline, and the sharp cheekbones – you feared you could cut yourself on him if you got too close. By the Gods, it was so unfair – this man was such a beautiful specimen, a perfect blend of sharp angles and elegance. You could almost feel homely when standing next to him. Almost. You had seen the hungry looks from some of the male courtiers when you had first entered the throne room, Perros had almost taken some heads before the formal introduction had begun.  

As you stood beside Aemond, carefully positioned by Queen Alicent on his unscarred side, your eyes couldn't help but drift to his face. The sight of his lone, good eye, clear and intense, pulled at something deep within you. A curious urge overtook you, a desire to reach out and gently touch the leather patch that covered his other eye, to silently convey that his imperfections held no sway over your perception of him. The loneliness and hurt that lingered in his gaze were palpable, almost tangible in their intensity. You knew little about the prince beside you, but perhaps, in time, you and Aemond would find the words to share your stories, to reveal the journeys that had shaped you both into who you were today. 

The commanding voice of the Hand resonated through the hall, snapping you back to reality and away from the small bubble you had created with Aemond. 

"With the formalities now concluded, we can finally rejoice in the joyous celebration to mark the betrothal of my grandson, Prince Aemond, to a noble daughter of House Dayne. May their union be enduring and bountiful, heralding a new era of prosperity and unity for both our houses. This wedding, under the watchful eyes of gods and men, shall be a beacon of hope and unity, shining brightly against the backdrop of our bloody histories.” Otto Hightower paused, his eyes sweeping over the assembled courtiers with deliberate calculation. "In four moon’s time," he began, his voice laden with nuanced implications, "the Seven Kingdoms will welcome a new princess into its fold. This auspicious union will not only fortify the bonds between our houses but will also herald a new epoch of strength and unity for House Targaryen and all its true and devoted allies. It is a time where loyalty shall be rewarded, and the true power of allegiances will be unveiled. Now comes the time when we must take care to distinguish friends from foes, and I am grateful to call House Dayne, and the whole of Dorne, true friends of the crown." 

 The weight of Otto's words hung in the air, its sinister undertones sending a shiver down your spine. You felt a wave of apprehension washed over you. You knew why you were here, your father and Prince Quoren had warned you of the green’s plot and yet, your heart raced nonetheless. You had not thought that Otto Hightower would be so... blatant in his desire for power and the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a physical force. 

 It was then you felt a gentle but firm pressure on your hand. Glancing sideways, you saw Aemond, his expression inscrutable, not even looking at you, but his warm, large hand enveloped your smaller shaking one in a soft grip. It was as if he, too, sensed the burgeoning unease within you, and offered a silent reassurance. His touch, surprisingly warm and grounding, was a small comfort amidst the rising tide of fear and uncertainty. In that moment, the prince, spoken of in whispers of terrors, felt less like a stranger and more like a friend.  

Leaning closer, his presence a comforting shadow, Aemond's lips hovered near your ear, his breath a warm caress against your skin. His whisper was barely audible, yet clear, "Might I have the pleasure of your company tomorrow to break our fast, my lady?"  

The soft intimacy of the moment caused a warm blush to rise on your cheeks. "It would be my joy," you responded with surprised. You did mean it truly; you would be delighted to eat with Aemond tomorrow.  

"Shall we say at dawn?" he suggested, “Or is that too early, my Lady?”  

"Dawn is quite perfect, my prince– any later and I would feel robbed of your presence” you ribbed.  

"Is this to be our fate? For you to tease me until the end of days?" Aemond’s good eye slides over to you, inscrutable yet vulnerable.  

Biting your lip in a moment of contemplation, "If it displeases you, I can refrain, my lord." you offered shyly trying to tug your hand back – but Aemond refused to let go.  

His reply was swift, his tone soft yet earnest. "No, please... never stop," he murmured with a naked vulnerability that touched you. "My lady." 

You gently squeezed his hand, offering a silent gesture of comfort and understanding, "Dawn it is then," you affirmed softly. 

Next Chapter - Interlude

[theprayerfulword]

June 28

Romans 10:10 For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.

Acts 1:8 But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you: and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judæa, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.

Proverbs 21:21 He that followeth after righteousness and mercy findeth life, righteousness, and honour.

Psalm 106:2 Who can proclaim the mighty acts of the LORD or fully declare his praise?

Proverbs 10:6 Blessings crown the head of the righteous, but violence overwhelms the mouth of the wicked.

2 Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.

May you be assured that the Lord listens when you seek His favor in humility and repentance, for He has provided a Deliverer and Redeemer in His Son to bring you out of the power of the enemy. 2 Kings 13

May you follow the Lord's directions with your whole heart, not stopping half-way but carrying through with enthusiasm. 2 Kings 13

May the Lord be gracious to you and have compassion, showing concern for you in your trials because of the love of Christ. 2 Kings 13

May you not only walk in the ways of the people of God, but may your heart be turned to the heart of God, that you may receive His love and experience His power in your life, as a witness to others who are seeking rescue and deliverance from the enemy. 2 Kings 14

May your heart not be lifted up in pride beyond measure, nor use your strength selfishly against others, but give honor to God for victories He brings, and look to Him for ways to serve those around you. 2 Kings 14

May God grant you His words of life to speak light and strength into the lives of others, for as the days grow darker, the compassion of the Lord will grow dearer, and those willing to walk near to Him will shine brighter as they reveal the glory of His Son. 2 Kings 14

   My child, I have called you “righteous,” so why do you question My judgment and doubt My truth? Is it not because you look upon My work with eyes that are blind to the work of the Spirit and try to understand with the carnal mind, which is enmity to Me?    The world claims that to be called righteous would mean that person is one who never sins. The enemy tries to impress that lie upon your thoughts because all have sinned, and no one would then have the right to call upon Me for help and strength to resist him.    However, I declare righteous that person who desires to know Me and, turning from their old way of living and thinking and acting, accepts the rescue and deliverance that I have made available through the blood I shed on the cross of Calvary, for the empty tomb declares the victory which defeated the devil.    Since My blood cleanses the guilt, removes the shame, and expunges the record, I give to whosoever will the right to become a son of God, upright and favored, no longer a destitute and abused child of Satan.    You are growing in My Spirit and My Word, maturing in grace and developing in mercy, progressing in compassion and arising in love. That means that while you do not yet walk perfectly in My ways, you are moving in the right direction by drawing closer to Me.    I speak of those things which are not as though they already were for I see that they will be. So walk in the authority of My Word and the power of My Spirit, My righteous one, knowing I place boundaries and safeguards around you, putting tutors over you as you progress.    Understand that the whole of creation is eagerly anticipating the day of your graduation when you are fully transformed into My likeness. This does not happen by your effort of will but by the power of My Spirit responding to the choice of your will and because I have said in My Word that it would come to pass.    All the hard studies and repeated lessons, the failed tests and despairing of ever learning and changing will be forgotten in the joy of that day when you come face-to-face with Me and know Me, even as you are known by Me.

May you strengthen your brethren day by day as you encounter them. Acts 18

May you minister the grace and gospel of Christ as the Lord equips you, whether with education and knowledge, or with experience and practice, for there will always be those who need the wisdom and perspective that God has given you. Acts 18

May you share, with meekness, the richness God has granted you to those who are seeking for more of the Lord, that you may receive, with humility, the depth God has granted others which will satisfy the hunger He has placed in your heart. Acts 19

May you praise the Lord from the depths of your soul as long as you live, singing praise to your God. Psalm 146

May you hope eternally in the Lord your God, never trusting in other powers or in men, none of whom can deliver you or even defend themselves, for on the very day their end comes, their thoughts and plans perish with them. Psalm 146

May you ever seek to obey the Lord your God who reigns over Zion for all generations, for He is the maker of all creation and remains forever faithful, upholding the cause of the oppressed and giving food to the hungry, setting the prisoner free and giving sight to the blind, lifting those who are bowed down because He loves the righteous, watching over the foreigner and sustaining the fatherless and the widow as He frustrates the ways of the wicked. Psalm 146

May you take delight in revealing and sharing the heart of the Father to others and find satisfaction by encouraging the growth and maturing of the saints. Proverbs 18:2

May you receive the grace and love of God in humility, turning from your former ways and walking in the righteousness of Christ, bringing honor to the Lord, and being honored by Him as one of His beloved. Proverbs 18:3

[biblequotesdaily]

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”

Mark 12:30-31

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

Matthew 6:14-15

Judge not, that ye be not judged.

Matthew 7:1

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

Philippians 2:3-4

and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you,

1 Thessalonians 4:11

Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.

Ephesians 4:15

Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers.

Ephesians 4:29

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Galatians 1:10