#growing unto maturity

[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…

[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

[discordsmuse]

Discordsmuse Masterlist

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Hello friends! Finally putting together a masterlist to make it easier for you guys to find all my fanfics here since I only post to AO3!

These will be organized by fandom and character.

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Baldur's Gate 3

Canon/Canon

Halsin

• The Lady's Embrace, Shadowheart/Abdirak, Mature/18+, SH accept Loviatar's blessing.

dance me to the end of love, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Halsin admit to their feelings post-Moonrise and fuck on a balcony.

Silence, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav and Halsin fuck in a closet

Do Unto Others, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav wants to give Halsin some attention and convinces him to let her be the giver for once.

Enver Gortash

body more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is invited to dinner with the Archduke and things get a little heated.

i will give you all that you need, NSFW/18+: Sequel to the above, Fem!Tav and Gortash bathe together before Enver gets a little handsy.

gracious men are those who suffer, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Enver w/ a free use kink.

legacy with no memory, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Enver Gortash w/a pregnancy kink

I wanna know my god, At least enough to fear Her, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Gortash have a lil bit of hate sex

Gale Dekarios

be my nightfire, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav catches Gale mid-alone time. Feelings and sex ensue.

Abdirak

sanctify you bedsheets with the sweat along your hips, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is fascinated by Abdirak and nervously asks him to teach her about Loviatar.

Raphael

delightful little detour, NSFW/18+: Canon rewrite for what happens when Fem!Tav tells Raphael he's bad at sex.

Let the Dream Begin, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael Phantom of the Opera AU, slowburn

Office Hours, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael College AU

she keeps the candle burning, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael post-game

Haarlep

Ask prompt, Haarlep/Fem!Tav when Haarlep shows up at camp.

Rolan

i wanna have a home, i wanna share it, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Rolan get together post-saving the tieflings from moonrise.

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Pirates of the Caribbean

Hector Barbossa

The Pirate Lord, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader post-Elizabeth being kinged.

All That Glitters, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite pre-CotBP

Liar's Bet, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite during CotBP and DMC

feel the edges start to burn, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader where reader is friends w/Carina

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Harry Potter

Severus Snape

isn't it lovely (all alone), NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader closet sex

no death in rebirth, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader longform amnesia oneshot

Brought to Life, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader marauder's era classmates to lovers lol

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Dead by Daylight

Canon/Canon

Contention, NSFW/18+: Ace/Meg against a tree hatesex

Breaking Point, NSFW/18+: Megmillan first time

It's Alright, Teen/16+: The survivors and killers recover post-entity

Anna/The Huntress

Not so much taming as growing accustomed, Mature/16+, Huntress/Reader friendship to lovers

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Untethered, NSFW/18+, The Doctor/Reader where reader annoying him but in the fun, bratty way

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Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg

Business Partners with Benefits, NSFW/18+: Heisenberg/Reader where reader is Moreau's niece

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Spider Man

Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock

Working Overtime, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is his lab assistant

Bedside Manner, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is Doc Ock's lover

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Labyrinth

Jareth the Goblin King

Midsummer, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader at the midsummer fae ball

don't leave me lonely, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader sequel to Midsummer

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The band Ghost

Papa Emeritus IV/Cardinal Copia

Better Than, NSFW/18+: Copia/Reader where he's a little insecure about Terzo being better than him

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Dracula

Dracula (lol)

Nice Costume, NSFW/18+: Dracula/Reader in a modern setting at a party

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Our Flag Means Death

Israel Hands

we do get desperate, now and again, Mature/16+: Fem!Reader/Izzy hurt/comfort unrequited love.

i wanna be yours, Mature/18+: Fem!Reader/Izzy first time together

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The Quarry (2022)

Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

• fell in love with the fever, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura are forced to spend some time together 6 months after the incident.

• perspiration and alcohol, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura meet again and become gym buddies. Laura pushes the line as per.

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DC Comics

• to fear the solitary, Mature/18+ themes, Doctor Johnathan Crane flirts with his favorite intern.

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This list will grow/change as I write more :D Thanks for reading!

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ GOOD LUCK CHARM ₎⁠₎

{read part 2}

PAiRiNG ?! childhoodfriend!kylian x black!femreader

GENRE ?! romance , angst if you have 30/30 vision

SYNOPSiS ?! based on the prompt "you still wear that little bracelet i made you?" "it's like my good luck charm.." by @novelbear because i need fuel rn haha 😞

A/N ?! i was listening to infrunami by steve lacy while writing this, if it's too fluffy im sorry blame him. i think i need to stop writing in 2nd person pov cos it's NOT IT. so yh, this isn't good BUT i feed my consumers so yuuuuurp, HERE YOU GO 💀

~°~

if someone had told 8 year old you that your friendship with kylian, in all its deep-rootedness and proclamations of 'forever's, would meet its demise just short of your 17th birthday, you would've cackled like the wicked witch of the west herself, bearing your gapped teeth in complete humour.

your bond was imperishable, derived from unyielding interlocked hands and taut, warm hugs that you longed to ever drown into. everybody knew, if kylian was there, you would be stood right beside him as if you were his right hand man- no, but you were.

his second mother, you were called; as sweet as he was, he was hardheaded and stubborn, and there was never a week that didn't go by where you weren't, even as young as you were, chastising him for having an unrelenting mouth or fisted hands. it was his nature, no matter how much you told him to stop and he vowed that he would, but it made him, kylian, so really and truly, there was nothing that could be done.

as you both matured, entered highschool with newfound tribulations that you swore you would conquer together, you began to realise that maybe, he had priorities that, inevitably, meant that your time together was diminishing. it was glaringly palpable, to him, to you, and everyone that was on the outside looking in.

but you could see just how much he tried balancing the two. football and you, occupied so much space in his life that dropping one would leave a gaping intrusion, begging to be whole again. so, after evening training, you two found yourselves basking in the soft buzz of the 20th hour within the confinement of your room, music droning in the back with a gentle hum. it was times like this that made you appreciate kylian; just a growing boy from bondy, fighting to make a name for himself in something he loved so much, yet still had time for you. his other half, as he called you. it made your heart swell everytime.

"kylian, i swear, if you've taken the last é-"

he was quick to defend himself, "look! i took e not é." he showed you the small bead and you hummed in approval. he rolled his eyes, "always quick to accuse me of shit."

you gasped, taking a pillow and throwing it his head. he screeched, quick to rip it off him.

"no swearing, you know that! my mum's gonna hear you."

he looked down, noticing that his efforts had been chewed and spat right back out, "[y/n], you ruined my bracelet!"

you shrugged, continuing yours, "sorry, not sorry."

his glare was evident in your peripheral and you tried to hold back your laugh.

"if this is so funny to you," he threw the empty threaded strand unto the carpet, "i'm not doing it anymore."

he knew he had gotten to you as he noticed your eyes widen, stopping the task at hand.

"bro! i'm not gonna have one then, that's not fair!"

he snickered, "should've thought about that first." his arms were crossed, smirking.

you debated whether or not to stop and leave you both bracelet-less, or sacrifice your dignity and apologise. in the end, the latter ruled the verdict; this was something cute that you both hadn't done in a while, and this ocassional get together was supposed to be fruitful.

"fine, i'm sorry."

he grinned, picking up the string once again to begin his, "there you go, wasn't that hard, was it?"

you gave him a look, muttering his words as you mimicked him before saying, "just continue the damn thing."

2 hours later and you were sure enough to say that your fingers were absolutely aching, kylian vocalising his pain. god, were his whines so irritating.

"kylian, please just give me your wrist," you sighed. he shuffled closer to you, arm stretched out. you tied yours securely, making sure to keep the word you had put facing down. you both agreed to make it a suprise.

with his tightly tied to your skin, in which he later had to loosen due to your discomfort, you counted down before sliding them against your wrists to see.

"chef? that's cute," you beamed. it didn't matter that you were younger than him, you were always telling him what to do, and he had always jokingly called you 'boss'.

he smiled back at you, but then it fell as he looked at his, "[y/n]?"

you struggled to hold back your giggles, "what? you don't like it?"

he looked at you from the corner of his eyes, "petit frèrot? really? out of everything you could've used, you used that?"

laughing, you gripped his wrist, turning it to look at it yourself, "it suits you, kylian!"

"i'm not shorter than you anymore," he whined. it was a memory he hated being brought to light; you always had an inch or two on him up until you both hit 14, and somehow, you remained stunted yet he had grown to be a whole head taller than you.

"it's for... memory's sake, ky."

"i don't want to wear it."

you frowned, "don't be stupid, kylian. you're never taking it off."

his tone is indignant, "don't be too sure about that."

+_-

it may be fraying and fuzzed at the edges. it may be fading, colours that were once bright and vivid now ghosted and phantom, but you swore that if it was ever cut off, it would be the end of you too.

yes, you both no longer talked. it was an occurence so vigorously impactful that even your parents had ceased contact because if their kids didn't talk, why should they?

you knew that with the life that kylian had planned for himself, as much you both ignored it, there was no space in it for you. he had to travel to play in clubs that didn't reside within the borders of paris, or even france. your academics strangled you with deadlines and projects that had you begin to fade into the distance of kylian's mind, so he couldn't take the full blame for it. you were the reason why too, and you wished you had fought harder to sustain such a friendship.

no hard feelings were established, you presumed. the drift was gradual and something that couldn't be helped. you knew kylian wouldn't hate you, and he knew you wouldn't either.

you kept your tabs on him, however. he didn't know where you were anymore, hell if you were even alive, but with a name as big as messi's and ronaldo's, you would've been living under rocks if you didn't know how he was fending.

once every few months, you search him up. you would see he was doing well, and you would smile, pained with nostalgia, fiddle with the aging bracelet that seemed to burn its imprint into your skin, and close the google tab. it wouldn't leave your mind for the next few weeks, but you didn't mind. as long as you knew he was okay, then you were too.

+_-

football, as much as it was your ex best friend's, wasn't your forte. you didn't know a single team to name, or a player that wasn't the two infamous rivals, so finding yourself, clad in the white jersey of real madrid was completely unusual nature.

"it'll be fun, [y/n]," your friend had urged. it wasn't the first time kalani had begged you to watch a game of her favourite team, but this time, you decided to give in to her pleas and see for yourself.

"sure," you stated dismissively. you needed these 3 hours to pass as quick as they could, essays weren't going to write themselves.

the stadium atmosphere was suffocating, to be entirely honest. it was filled to the absolute brim with the blue and white opposing colours, to which you had no idea which team the blue was supposed to represent. you were only here for support, not the experience.

you could see the players training and preparing themselves on the pitch, seriousness punctured with banter and playful chasing. it reminded you of kylian again. you smiled at that thought.

then, as if time itself were a blur, kick off had started and instantaneously both team were hungry for the ball. you were, of course, rooting for madrid, and everytime the ball was in their possession, couldn't fight down the urge to scream with passion. it was like football had ignited something deep and buried within you, and it took you back to the days were you were screaming for kylian to score until your voice grew hoarse and dessicated.

+_-

you didn't even support the damned team yet you were completely drunk off victory. won with 2 goals to your name and the smile that had found its way unto your and kalani's faces hadn't left.

in a haze of excitement and thrill, she had left you to go to the toilet. you had no idea where you were, and you thought the safest place to go was back to the entrance.

"fucking hell."

the stadium was bigger than you thought, and with your short memory span, you had found yourself lost. how you couldn't even get the exit was beyond you.

in the distance you heard a cluster of voices, and your brain immediately thought to go in that direction, where there was people, there was help. your steps were hurried, you're sure you looked absolutely frightened out of your mind, and you quickly take the sharp left, colliding into a body.

"oh shit- i'm so sorry," you hurried out apologies. the person in front of you was quick to stop you, "no, no, you're good."

you stilled. age did absolutely nothing to the distinct accent of his. and it's then you drank in the sight of him fully.

"kylian?"

his face morphed into one of familiarity and utter shock, then his eyes widened.

"no way- [y/n]?"

you airily chuckled, still stupified, "in the flesh, ky."

his arms were quick to take you in them, embrace muscled and strong. your arms wrapped around his neck as you swayed from side to side.

a cough from beside you dragged you both back down from your reverie.

"kylian? who's this?" their voice was playful and the man rolled his eyes, grinning widely.

"achraf, this is [y/n], my best friend from early-"

"until you ditched me."

"i did not," he defended.

achraf chuckled, "won't be surprised if he did."

you laughed wholeheartedly, kylian groaning at his two best friends tag teaming against him.

"you two literally just met," his gaze was on you, fully coming to terms with the fact that you were standing right in front of him. no longer 16, but now 8 years later, unrecognisable but in the best way possible.

"how did you get here?" achraf asked, and you grinned sheepishly.

"got lost. i came here with my friend to watch real madrid and she ditched me to go to take a shit or something, i have no idea."

kylian huffed at you revelation, "siding with the enemy, i see. i thought you were my supporter."

you tried not to react to his words, but the growing seansation of butterflies made you feel nauseous.

"suck it up, ky. don't be a sore loser," you jeered, punching him softly in his arm.

he raised and eyebrow, "i guess i'll leave you here."

achraf was quick to deflect it, however, "no you're not. you're going to help this young lady and see her out, kylian," he tutted, "be a gentleman."

you smirked at your best friend, "listen to him, ky. he has wisdom to share."

he kissed his teeth, turning around to walk away. you grabbed his wrist to stop him, "okay, okay, i'm sorry!"

you laugh, squeezing his flesh as you felt something thin line his skin. you looked down and the sight of your sentiment, its state just like yours, left you breathless.

"you still wear that little bracelet i made you?" you couldn't stop smiling.

he looked at you, straight in your eyes as if his following words weren't enough. he needed you to feel the genuineness of it all.

"i could never take it off. it's like my good luck charm."

chef- boss

petit frèrot- little bro

[me-ments]

Family Jewels AU

Miles discovered what Manfred did. He didn't have the evidence, but he suspected he knew, and couldn't risk being next.

After the death of his father, little Miles is raised under Manfred's wing, in investigation and prosecution. Unfortunately for Manfred, Edgeworth uses these skills as he grows, along with his father's death as study material. Here, he is less credulous about the possibility of himself as the killer. Over his years and his growth into adolescence he begins to find holes that bug him in his father's case. Manfred begins to detect the dissent as well, up unto the point that Miles so explicitly begins to ask questions in search of that perfect evidence. His mentors' replies are not satisfactory, but clearly display the disdain he had for his father, and disdain for the damage Miles did himself ('i was an adventurer like you once until i took a bullet to the shoulder'). As Miles matures, he realizes that, perhaps pleasing his mentor will no longer suffice. And despite what he knows, he still just doesn't have the evidence for a court of law…

Manfred agitates Miles upon a more forward confrontation one night, and finds it to be his last. Miles is clean with his work and manages to dissuade enough suspicion that he acts as prosecutor on the case. Someone else is locked away for the murder, and Miles is freed of his mentor at a young age. But his aptitude in Manfred's case, and as his student, is enough to propel him in the world of law. Franziska on the other hand is left fatherless, and unknowing of Miles' transgression. As he has reached a point of maturity by the time of the murder, he is capable of taking responsibility of her. She is resentful, but distraught by the death of her beloved father. Miles is a more distant caretaker, but dutiful to his sister, and raises her with continued law education, but with less attention and involvement than her father would've afforded.

As time passes, Miles is haunted by the deaths that surround him. He becomes distant and irritable, reminiscent of Manfred, but still less strict and generally unconcerned with Franziska, which does stunt her growth in comparison to regular.

One night, while Miles is in a particularly irritable mood upon Franziska's return home, he is found tending to the gun he used. Franziska is avoidant, but he becomes aggressive. His fit is not harmfully aggressive at first, and he lays down the gun during it, which Franziska manages to pick up to remove from his access, and of an instinct that she may need to defend herself. As Miles spirals he begins to target her, and sees the gun, and demands it back. She insists she will not, and that he is unwell. He then begins to taunt her, telling her to shoot him if she will not, perhaps going as far to insinuate that it wouldn't be the first murder of family. As he becomes more threatening, eventually physically dangerous, she finds no choice but to shoot. And with that she falls the next in the long line, passed along the family jewels.

She calls the police, and admits to what she's done in self defense. She's a husk, waiting in the crime scene as police come and go. Gumshoe arrives and fusses over her, having still worked with her and Miles, though less chummy with Miles. But she's rather unresponsive. She's taken into custody for questioning.

Later that night is when she meets Mr. Wright, who wants to defend her in court. She is naturally suspicious, and of course a blood feud between prosecutors and defense attorneys. He elaborates, he knew Miles as a child and became a lawyer thanks to him. He never thought they'd reunite like this.

+ the redesigns for this. I love making au's, but I'm not particularly great at writing. I do have a little scene or two written out, mostly Phoenix and Franziska, plus some omitted details, so if anyone actually sees this post, lmk if you would like to see them in the future. I haven't touched this story in a while, i suspect it wont be hugely loved due to the Miles disrespect (I love him too but i also love evil little dudes) but I've also deliberated a Miles Lives route. This is a lot of yapping. I'll finish now ^^

[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.

[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

[suchawrathfullamb]

can you do the intuitive reading for Will's daughter too?

Sure, I'll name her Charlotte to honor my deleted fic where he had a daughter named Lola.

I said in the Hannibal's child analysis that I didn't think Will would've spoiled his daughter and let her always have her way, like Hannibal. That's because I sense Will would project his fears unto her and try to raise a resourceful child that knew how to get what she wanted even if it was difficult. And because he struggled financially growing up, I don't think he would allow splurges of any kind.

Unlike Lilya, Lola is very affectionate and does initiate contact. She learned that the only way to get through dad is through affection. It melts him.

She's mature beyond her years due to growing up with instability and her only caregiver (doubt that Will would allow for his child to have anyone else but him) being in constant danger (his job), which made her gloomier than a normal kid should be.

When she met Abigail, she saw an ugly reflection of herself. Ugly because Abigail could still run, but didn't. Ugly because Abigail was ashamed of her father and herself. She was angry that Abigail wasn't running away. She even offered to help her financially. "Go. Just leave. You have no place here", she'd say, but Abigail was too afraid of being alone. And she was too arrogant to think she could outsmart everyone.

But she pitied her.

She did not pity Lilya, on the other hand. When they met, they bonded over their shared jealousy of their fathers and the new girl. But Lola knew there was something wrong with Lilya. She was reactive yet cold, enraged yet calm. She was a walking contradiction and it made her off putting.

She saw Hannibal for what he was right away. He saw her, too.

Lola keeps secrets. Too many.

Lilya says she's poison. She thinks Will agrees, but would never say it out loud.

Hannibal wants to put her on a leash and whistle her movements to his will.

Lola wants to eat.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Stork

Debut: Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island

Everyone knows the stork! The stork is where babies come from! It’s where you came from, it’s where I came from! When any creature wants a baby and wishes hard enough, the stork will appear when the time is right to deliver the little bundle unto their doorstep. The big question, then, is where do the baby storks come from? That’s easy, actually! Storks reproduce sexually. From a cloaca.

Stork is really, truly, one of the most overlooked Mario characters, if not the most overlooked of all! Obviously there are far more obscure and unknown characters, but Stork is a key figure in the backstory of the Mario Bros., and is relegated to Yoshi’s Island-related content, barely ever referenced outside of it! I guess it makes sense since it is so tied to the Baby concept, but they use baby characters all the time, and Mario is pretty tied to the Baby concept, having been one of them. So basically what I am saying is, Stork Mario Kart Please!

The Stork is a humble Stork, delivering babies as they do in real life. But this particular stork has the honor of delivering Mario and Luigi! Unfortunately, storks cannot see the future, so they do not know how important these babies will grow up to be. Kamek, however, CAN see the future, and he does not like what he sees!

Geez! It wasn’t enough to steal infants, Kamek also had to take the Stork as a hostage! This poor guy was just doing his job. And after he is freed, he gets right back on it, too! He is serious about his work, and it is very respectable!

He then brings the babies to the wrong house, and yes this is a very stupid Yoshi’s New Island plot point, but this isn’t Stork’s fault. Stork just spent days hanging upside down. Too selfless to take a break to recuperate! Perhaps it was irresponsible to take on the responsibility of baby-toting so soon after being tortured, but again, all of his blood had been pooling in his brain for days. I think he was just trying his best.

Stork then goes on to get attacked by Kamek and blah blah the same dang plot as the first game but look at this! This is Where Babies Come From! Do you remember when you were forming like a little meat raindrop within Stork Cloud? How precocious of you! This should be Stork’s home track when he gets into Mario Kart. Drive around inside and see all the babies at various stages of development! I wonder at what point they grow their hats.

Yoshi’s Island DS, though it came out before New Island, takes place after, and thank goodness our friend Stork is not violently attacked this time! He gets to appear as an ally, letting Yoshi swap between babies to use their special Baby Abilities, at the Stork Stop. A whole physical structure specifically for storks to deliver babies! For parents on the go. A Shy Guy could go up to this and say “Hi, one baby please” into the intercom and then it is a Shy Parent!

Isn’t it nice to see Stork just Hanging Out for once? Just part of the gang. And he is helping! Really an upstanding stork.

Stork (character) is based on Stork (animal)! These are large, stork-like birds in the stork family. So stork-like, because they are storks! Nothing could be more stork-like! I feel like storks are ONLY known from the idea of them delivering babies, and that is a shame, because they are real creatures and should be appreciated! So, I would like to dedicate the rest of this post to the real white stork, and fun facts about them!

-Storks are predators, and hunt a MASSIVE variety of prey!

-Juveniles have black bills, and as they mature, their bills turn red starting at the base and progressing toward the tip!

-Storks migrate yearly all the way from Europe to South Africa!

-Storks nest in groups of up to thousands in the winter, and preen each other to maintain social bonds!

-Young storks can make various vocalizations, but the main sound made by adults is bill-clattering, which sounds like a machine gun!

-Storks communicate with an “up-down display”, where they throw back their head and neck, and slowly bring them back upward!

-Storks build massive nests, which can weigh over 500 pounds, and which other, smaller birds will also take shelter in!

And, my favorite:

-Storks have been observed using tools! Parents may hold wet moss in their bill, and squeeze the water into the mouths of their chicks!

Please, never take any animal for granted! Every animal, and I mean literally every animal no with no exceptions, is wonderful and fascinating and deserves appreciation. And every animal is always weirder and even more interesting than you think! Every creature in the world is so full of wonder!

[michaelofnebadon]

Salvington School students…

One aspect of my mission is to restore the Planetary Prince School which had begun the  organizing and administering of this inhabited sphere.

The success of the School which guides the evolutionary emergence of all creatures and the civilization greatly facilitates the subsequent missions of the Material Sons and Daughters, who come to engraft the higher forms of creature life on the primitive men of the worlds.

Their rule also does much to prepare the planets for the Paradise Sons of God, who subsequently come to judge the worlds and to inaugurate successive dispensations.

Thine faith shall grow and expand and mature until it establishes a divine dominance .. so real and all-encompassing shall this faith in you expand and grow throughout all thine field of personality expression that it absolutely sweeps away all intellectual adversity, any spiritual doubts and hesitations, and effectively destroys every conflicting desire and opposition.

Nothing is able to tear one of sincere faith away from the spiritual anchorage of this fervent, sublime, and undaunted faith.

Practice the Six heavenly Ts of Character Righteousness and Personhood Dignity within the ministry of the Universe Adjutants...and the Adjutant of Courage.

Truthfulness

Temerity

Tenderness

Tenacity

Transparency

Trustfulness

The Third Adjutant of Courage...

The spirit of courage—the fidelity endowment—in personal beings, the basis of character acquirement and the intellectual root of moral stamina and spiritual bravery.

When enlightened by facts and inspired by truth, this becomes the secret of the urge of evolutionary ascension by the channels of intelligent and conscientious self-direction.

All self-esteem shall grow with these Ts of Courage.

All worthiness shall mature with these T's of Character Dignity.

Ye shall refine thine authorship unto heightening faculties and empowering rights inalienable.

Practice the T's each day while becoming aware of those opportunities to express the T's in your self-relationship and relationship with others.

You shall be shaping all character habits and tendencies upwards; elevating the inner urges to discriminate appropriately, to discern positively, to decide with bravery, to grow boldness and courage in thine selfhood in accordance with the Trinity of Paradise.

Christ Michael Of Nebadon

Proclamations of God's Everlasting Glory

[searchingforgravity]

White Christmas - Day 9 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You and Elvis are staying the night in a cabin for the holidays when you are snowed in. You both find a way to pass the time until the blizzard passes.

TW: Sex, Smut, choking, oral (female receiving)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 2393

A/N: Here's day nine of Smutmas, I can't believe it's almost over! happy reading, everyone!

"Well, honey, it looks like we're stuck here for the next few days," Elvis calls out from the entryway as he looks out the front door of the cabin, the wind blowing furiously around in a flurry. You sigh as you walk up behind him from the kitchen, your arms wrapping around his torso as you look out with him. "Well, good thing there's a tv, unless the signal is out," you sigh. You hate the cold, but at least you're stuck here with your husband. He always knows how to make an unideal situation bearable. He turns from the door and faces you, looking down at you with a smirk playing on his face. "Oh, I think we can find a way to pass the time," he mumbles, his lips coming down to place a kiss on your forehead, sending instant sparks through you as you naturally lean up into his touch. "Oh yeah, and what exactly were you thinking?" you whisper, your hand coming to trace along his broad shoulder. "It's not hard to guess, sweet heart," he mumbles suddenly pulling you close.

You don't waste any time as you start pulling him towards the bedroom, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he allows you to lead him over to the mattress. he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you down unto his lap, his lips eagerly coming down on yours again, his hands sliding over to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. You sigh into his mouth as you adjust your position on his lap, rolling your hips into him. A strangled moan escapes his mouth as he glides his hands to your lower back, pulling you closer. It always amazed you how quickly he got turned on, and how he was ready for sex at any time of the day. It's almost as if he anticipates it. You trail your hands up to his hair, combing them through as he leans his head back at the touch, his adams apple bobbing slightly.

He tucks his hands under your sweater, pulling it off of you slowly, sweeping his hands along your back as he journey's up your body, making you sigh with want. After he discards your sweater on the floor he brings his finger to play with your bra, his lips coming to kiss in between your breasts. You look down at him and his eyes are already on yours as he licks the valley between your tits. His eyes never leave yours as he unclasps your bra, helping you slide your arms through the straps.

With his eyes still on yours, he takes your left nipple into his mouth swirling his tongue around the hard nub as his brings his other hand to cup your right, the pad of his thumb swiping over your other nipple. You thread your fingers through his hair again and he groans, sucking harder. A soft whimper leaves your mouth at the feeling as you lean your head back, pushing your wet heat against his now fully formed erection.

You gasp at the feeling and he bucks his hips up into you, now growing desperate for your cunt. He switches sides on your breasts, taking your right nipple in his mouth and bites on it softly, making you jump in surprise. He grunts at the feeling of you jumping on his cock, rolling his hips up to yours. You moan quietly as your hands trail to his shoulders, squeezing softly. His face comes in between your breasts again as he nuzzles his face there between them, squeezing them against his cheeks with his hands. Your face flushes as you look at him burying his face in your tits, the sight making your pussy clench on its own accord. "Fuckin' love your tits," he groans, suckling at the sides of them, no doubt creating hickies.

"Elvis," you moan quietly, now grinding down on him with more desperation. "You don't gotta be quiet, honey. You know I love when you're good and loud for me," he groans against your chest. You can't help but sigh at his words. "Make me be good and loud then, honey," you moan in response, making him look back up at you, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I will."

He suddenly pulls his lips away from you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lays you on the bed. You reach you arms up to take off his shirt when he pushes your hand away. "Nuh uh, baby. Gotta make you good n' loud for me first," he smirks and you know you're in for it now. He brings his hands to your jeans, slowly undoing the button and you know you've made a mistake. He's going to torture you until your screaming for him. "E, please," you whimper, causing his eyes to snap up to yours, a knowing look in them. "This is what you wanted, honey. I'm just giving my baby what she wants," he mumbles, feigning innocence as he turns his attention back to your pants, unzipping your zipper at an agonizing pace. You huff loudly as you close your eyes, focusing on his hands on you instead of how bad you need him. "That's it baby, just enjoy it," he mutters as he hooks his fingers into your belt loops, shimming your jeans down inch by inch.

As they come down past your thighs, exposing your panties, he leaves a lingering kiss on your mound, humming as he sees a wet spot already formed on them. "Already so ready for me. Such a good girl," he moans kissing the insides of your thighs. You moan softly as you try bucking your hips up to him, but his lips are already leaving that area as he trails them down along with your leans. When he finally takes your pants off, you look down at him and his eyes connect with yours, his lips coming to leave open mouthed kisses on your right ankle. "Elvis," you whimper at the agonizing pace, feeling a smirk form on his lips at your desperation.

He trails his lips from your ankle to your knee, before switching to your other leg. "Don't worry honey, I'm gonna take real good care a ya'" he groans, the act of teasing you turning him on. When he gets to your thigh, he slowly licks his way up, leaving a trail of saliva. You hiss at this, a soft moan leaving your lips as you bring your hands to his hair, gripping softly. He pauses when he gets to your pussy, spreading your legs with his body that's now wedged between you. He licks the wet spot on your panties, trailing his tongue to your clit, his pace still agonizingly slow. You let out an elongated moan at this, leaning your head back against the pillows. "So wet for me, sweet heart. And I barely even touched ya'" he muses. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently pulls them down, his speed slightly increasing in this as he feels his cock pounding against his pants.

After situating himself again between your legs, he stars peppering kisses along your cunt, but never licking like you desperately need. "Fuck, Elvis, please," you whine. He hasn't even been kissing you for long and you're already begging. You quickly learned to leave your pride at the bedroom door when having sex with Elvis, because if you start being cocky towards him, he'll make sure you'll regret it every time. He hums, pleased with hearing you beg. "Sounds so pretty when you beg for me, honey. You make my dick so hard," he groans. He, ever so lightly, ghosts his tongue over your clit while his long fingers run up and down your thighs. You throw your head back, now throbbing for him as you moan loudly. "Baby! Please, I need you so bad," you practically yell as you grip tightly onto his hair.

Without warning, he buries his entire face in your cunt, groaning as he nuzzles his nose against your clit. You gasp loudly at the sudden intrusion, instinctively bucking your hips up into him. His tongue finds its way to your hole, swirling around it quickly before plunging inside of you, making your toes curl. "Fuck, E- Oh my God," you moan loudly, arching your back off the mattress. He hums at your reaction, thrusting his tongue in and out of you at a fast pace, massaging your clit with his nose. A whine escape your mouth as he pulls himself up for air, replacing his tongue with his index finger plunging his finger inside you without warning. A little shout falls from your lips as his mouth starts sucking on your clit, moaning onto it to cause vibrations. "Jesus, E-Elvis!" you whimper, bucking your hips up to his face.

When he starts gently nibbling on your clit, you lose it, you orgasm surprising you as it washes over you, leaving you shaking violently underneath him. He groans at feeling you come apart under him, milking you until you come down from your high. He gasps slightly as he comes up for air, his face completely flushed as he wipes his now drenched face with the back of his hand. The sight makes you clench again around nothing as he makes his way up to your lips, nearly attacking them with his, now hard as a rock.

"Fuck, I love hearin' you like that," he groans as he brings his hips to yours, his fully clothed cock rubbing desperately against your bare pussy. You moan at this as you reach to rip off his shirt. This time he helps you as he throws it to the ground. His hands now shaking with need comes to the belt of his pants, nearly ripping the damn thing from the loops as he discards it somewhere in the room. You can only watch him he tears his pants and boxers from his body, his desperation nearly oozing out of him.

As his cock springs free of its confinements, he sighs slightly in relief. You don't know if you've ever seen him so hard before. "Baby, do you really need me that bad?" you tease as he hastily climbs over to you. It's your turn to smirk this time as he meets your gaze, a nearly wild look in them. "I can barely take it, honey. I need ta be inside you," he moans, his lips latching onto your neck as he rocks his hips down on yours, his dick sliding in between your heat. "Oh damn," he groans at feeling your slick on him. You roll on top of him suddenly positioning him at your entrance. "Let me take care of you baby," you whisper, wiping his now damp hair away from his face. "Please, mama," he begs.

Without another word, you are sliding down onto in, his teeth clenching together as a strangled moan erupts from his throat. "Goddamn," he grunts, his hands coming to your waist. You can't help but moan loudly at the feeling of him filling you up. You rest your hands on his chest as you pull up before coming down on him hard. You both moan at this as he grips on your hips, snapping his hips up to yours again and again. "M'sorry mama, just need to fuck you," he grunts, already taking complete control. You can only moan in response as you bring your hands to your tits, massaging them as you bounce down on him.

After thrusting up into you for a bit, sweat starts to form on his temple as he knits his brows together in concentration. "Get on your damn knees," he moans suddenly. You waist no time obeying him as you quickly scramble to your hands and knees, leaning back to show him everything. His hands quickly come to squeeze your ass as he trails them to your hips, thrusting back into you at a quick pace. You practically scream as you muffle it in the pillows, and he grabs a fist full of your hair, pulling your head up to his ear. "Don't you dare hide those noises from me," he grunts, his hand then coming to your neck, squeezing softly at the sides. You groan as your eyes roll back, your ass slamming back to meet his thrust. He can't help the growl that leaves his mouth as he gently bites down on your shoulder. "Fuck, such a good girl," he moans, his pressure of your throat gently increasing, causing a shot of arousal to course through you. "Harder, c-choke me harder," you moan loud enough for him to clearly here. He pauses only for a second as he cautiously increases the pressure on your throat, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck baby. You're such a good fuckin' slut," he mumbles as he nuzzles his face in your hair as he now nearly pounds into you.

You can feel your orgasm coming as you bring your finger to your clit, rubbing in fast circles. Whimpers leave your mouth repeatedly with each of his thrusts. "You're close, aren't you mama?" he questions at hearing your noises. You can only nod in response, your mind turned to goo as you lean your head back onto his shoulder, his hand on your neck supporting you. He thrusts into you harder now, his breathes coming in short gasps as he approaches his orgasm as well. You both get there at the same time as he shouts into your neck, you releasing a string of profanities as your body stiffens before going completely limp. He has to catch you from falling as his arm wraps around you, his own body trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. He gently pulls out of you as he pulls you close to him.

Once your breathing finally calms down slightly, he covers you both up in the blanket, your sweat drenched bodies quickly turning cold from the weather outside. "You like it when I choke you?" he groans suddenly into your neck, his lips returning for a kiss. You blush slightly before answering "Yeah, I really like it, E." He threads his fingers through your hair. "God, I love you," he mumbles, pulling you closer.

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@looloolily @tantamount-treason @father-of-2cats @flowersofcement @peaceloveelvis @horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @dark-raven031

[melodiesofmidnight]

One of the most unfortunate notions to have emerged from the afterbirth of the very odd resurgency of Puritanical morality (in regards specifically to literature as well as to fictive works of film and/or television) is the idea that characters must be inhuman in their goodness.

Not in that they must be angels, or that they must be without moral quandary, but that they must, in the end, transmute these struggles into redemption, or, at the very least, into qualities which render them more sympathetic than condemnable.

That, however, renders a disservice unto readers. As poetry, if one were to align one's views with Wordsworth, the purpose of a literary work is to contain "the spontaneous overflow of feelings," and thus to evoke such in those who consume it.

There must be catharsis. A good character is not so necessarily because he is morally good, or because he is an embodiment of our most noble and admirable traits (though well-written and well-rounded characters certainly can be so), or because he serves to bolster a work whose exigesis would extoll the virtues of a parable, but because he is deeply human; because he is multi-faceted; because he is flawed.

Humans are not paragons of virtue. To hold a character to the standards of perfection expected of martyrs is to divest the character of his humanity, and, thus, of his use to us. Characters do not need to be role models, or motivational, or inspirational, they simply must speak to our humanity.

It is dishonest to claim that humans (at least, those worthy of respecting, according to those braying the loudest within communal spaces that they have never experienced an incorrect thought, nor held a questionable belief, nor behaved in a way they would wish to keep from being broadcasted across the Internet) do not possess traits which are reflected in well-crafted, realistic characters: in Byronic heroes, in Romantic heroes, in Picaresque heroes, in anti-heroes, in the wicked, in the cruel, in the sadistic, in the mad.

It is necessary to recognise these traits within ourselves and to endeavour to become truly, intimately familiar with them. You must know the darkness of yourself as well as the light, if you truly wish to grow into a functional, kind, and well-balanced individual: you must learn to deal with your shadow. Those who pretend it does not exist within themselves often struggle the most with its existence, and often are the most easily consumed by it.

Characters who are darkly relatable to us, in their quickness to anger or in their sardonic, mean-spirited wit, or in their selfishness, or in their impulsiveness, or in their stubbornness, or in their wrath, are the most instructive in conveying the importance of goodness.

There must be catharsis. There must be purgation. We must see the darkness behind our eyes reflected in the faces of these characters, and we must see them fail because of it. We must see them hurt those they love because of it. We must see them lose everything because of it. We must see them destroy themselves because of it.

We must be allowed to explore the darkness of humanity within fiction, because it is that acknowledgement of darkness that allows us to wrestle with it, to know it, and to best it. No monster in the closet has ever been defeated by refusing to look it in the face and to name it. You cannot heal if you do not identify and treat the wound.

It is through the morally upright and the morally contemptible characters that we find traces of ourselves, and that we are allowed to proceed forward on the path to becoming the well-rounded, mature, and critical-thinking individuals we aspire to be. To continue to strike down 'problematic' content and characters is to sit beside the book burners of Fahrenheit 451, to worship Big Brother in 1984.

The good and the bad aspects of oneself must be explored in equal measure to grasp reality by the shoulders and to sit upon the throne of your identity, confident in the knowledge that your mastery of yourself and your answer to who am I? can never be shaken by outside forces.

The best and safest way to explore these aspects is within the sheltering confines of literature, of music, of film, of television, to see ourselves in the faces of others and to know what that means. To know what it means in others. To grow empathy and compassion and acknowledgement that all are human, all are imperfect, all are light, and all are dark -- and to not only acknowledge these facts, but to accept them as being inescapable, as being inherent, and as being okay.

[walkswithmyfather]

“By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence.” —2 Peter 1:3 (NLT)

“What Does 2 Peter 1:3 Mean?” By Dailyverse.knowing-jesus.com:

“The position and privileges that are ours in Christ Jesus and all that we will ever need to live a godly life which is pleasing to the Lord, were given to us as a free gift of God's grace. Freely given through the merit of Christ's sacrificial death at Calvary and because of His omnipotent, divine power.

As His children, we are called to live a life of godliness, to live our life in spirit and truth, and to live in total dependence upon our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. But it is only through His divine power that we have been equipped by God to live such a godly life, for we have been imputed with Christ's righteousness, indwelt by Christ's Holy Spirit, identified with all His goodness and grace, and have been accepted by the Father in the Beloved, by grace through faith in Him.

It is only by God's divine power that we were saved through faith in Christ's sacrificial work at Calvary, and it is only by God's divine power that we are enabled to live our Christian life as unto the Lord. It is God's divine power that saves the sinner, and God's divine power that energises the saint to live a godly life. It is by God's divine power that we were saved from the penalty of sin and it is also by His divine power that we are saved from the power of sin in our lives.

All that pertains to life and godliness in a believer is achieved through the ministry of the Holy Spirit within our heart and the intercessory ministry of our great High Priest in heaven, for it is God Who works in us, to equip each believer to mature in the faith, to grow in grace, and to come into a fuller and deeper knowledge of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. For without Christ, we can do nothing, but we can do all things through Christ Who equips us with His divine power.

We have not been called, chosen, redeemed, and accepted because of our own merit - but by His glory, His goodness, His virtue, and His grace. And we are called to share in His glory and be clothed in His righteousness as children of God and joint-heirs with Christ.

Let us never forget that our heavenly position and privileges are ours in Christ Jesus Who, by His divine power has given us everything that is needed for life and godliness. And let us never forget that all that we are and all that we have is because of His glory, His goodness, and His grace. He laid aside His glory so that He could call us out of darkness into His marvellous light.

My Prayer: Heavenly Father, How I praise and thank You that I have been called out of darkness into Your glorious light. By Your divine power I have been called, chosen, redeemed, accepted, and equipped to live the godly life that You desire of me. I have been imputed with Christ’s righteousness, in-dwelt by the Holy Spirit, identified with all His goodness and grace, and accepted by the Father, in the Beloved. May I live a life that is worthy of my high calling and in everything give You all honour and praise. In Jesus' name, AMEN.”🙏🕊🙌