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warriorlid14 · 24 days ago

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Based on @thejakeformerlyknownasprince's theory that Tobias is the Ellimist. Couldn't stop thinking about it.

....

“Have you heard of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice?”

Marco groaned. “What is this, a pop quiz? I thought I was done with those when I graduated- well, not graduated. You know what I mean.”

“It’s a Greek tragedy. The story goes that-”

“You know what’s tragic? This conversation.” Marco faked a yawn. “I think I’ll go wake Jake up to take over my shift. What time is it anyway?”

“Just humor me, will you?”

Marco sighed dramatically. He couldn’t even remember what they were talking about that led to this conversation. “Fine, Birdboy, tell me the tragedy of Opeus and Eurywhateverthefuck.”

“Orpheus and Eurydice.”

“Whatever dude.”

“I won’t bore you with all the details-” Marco let out a snort “- but the tragedy goes like this: Orpheus and Eurydice are lovers. She dies. In his grief, Orpheus decides to go down to the Underworld to rescue her. It’s a whole epic, long journey. Long story short: he rescues her. Kind of. He makes a deal with Hades, king of the underworld, to let her go. Hades lets her escape. She can follow Orpheus all the way back out of the underworld. The only condition is that Orpheus can’t look back to make sure she’s following. But it’s a long, epic journey you see. And towards the end of the journey, he can’t hear her steps anymore. Just as they’re about to make it, Orpheus can’t help but look back. She’s then forced to stay in the underworld forever. Here’s the kicker: in certain versions of the tragedy, it’s alluded to that the story keeps repeating itself over and over again. The hope is that maybe the next time, Orpheus won’t make the same mistake. But he always looks back.”

Marco let out a low whistle. “Nice bedtime story. Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Is this about Rachel?” Maybe it was a dick move to ask straight out. But there was something off about this whole encounter. There was something off with Tobias. Maybe posture? The voice? His eyes?

Tobias shook his head. “No. Well, not entirely. It’s about all of you. And humanity really.”

Yes, it was definitely the eyes. They were stormy and dark and- were those stars? Were those actual literal stars in his eyes? Marco took a step back, unnerved, looked around and- Yes, he was still aboard the Rachel. Everything was in its place and yet it all felt wrong. And when he squinted, the walls were- Yes, they were almost translucent.

“What?” he said, dread beginning to take hold in the pit of his stomach. “What is this?”

Tobias smiled at him sadly. “I was hoping the illusion would hold a little longer. You always were too smart for your own good.”

“Illusion?” The dread spread to the rest of his body. “What are you-”

“You’re dead, Marco.”

His face turned white. He remembered now. Ram the blade ship. He swallowed hard. He quickly sat down on the floor.

“So this is what, some fucked up afterlife? You’re dead too?”

“This isn’t an afterlife. I guess the best way to put it is that you’re not technically dead just yet, only frozen right before.”

As he spoke, Marco noticed that it wasn’t just the ship that was translucent. Tobias was too. “Ellimist,” he whispered.

Not-Tobias smiled at him again. But he didn’t turn into the old man the Ellimist always presented himself as. He just said, “Yes.”

“Why are you here? Why are you cosplaying as Tobias? Is he dead? Are the others-”

“I’m just here to talk. Aximili and Menderash are dead. Jake, Jeanne, and Santorelli will be dead soon. Tobias will too, in a way.”

If he hadn’t already been on the floor, the grief he felt then would have knocked him over.They had failed.They had failed so badly that-

“You didn’t fail,” the Ellimist said, still using Tobias’s voice. “You destroyed the One’s plans. You saved thousands of lives that would have been taken over by that creature had you all not intervened.”

Like it mattered. They had never set out to save thousands of lives. This mission was only about saving one. “The others. How did they-”

“I think it would be simpler if I showed you.”

The air shifted around him. He was still aboard the Rachel, though it was now in ruins. He saw Jake, Tobias, and Jeanne, all human, all crouching and crying around- Marco swallowed hard. Menderash, head bashed in. Ax, a gaping hole in his chest. Himself. Marco brought his hand to his side. It had been practically cut open by some machinery when the ships had crashed. There was so much blood pooled around him. He could physically feel the agony and grief in the room, mixing with his own. He turned to the Ellimist, opened his mouth to tell him he didn’t want to see this, and then, as if he read his mind, the scene in front of him changed.

They were no longer aboard the Rachel, but in a smaller ship. An escape pod. Jake was at the controls. Santorelli was sitting next to him.

“This took place- will take place- in about a week or so,” the Ellimist said. As he spoke, Santorelli stood up and walked towards the back of the ship, expression blank. He picked up a pole. “The rest of your friends thought the One had been defeated back at the blade ship.” Santorelli walked to the front of the ship, holding up the pole. His eyes flashed red. “We were wrong.”

“Jake, watch out!” Marco yelled, uselessly. Jake turned. Too late. Santorelli swung the pole, hard, and Jake fell like a sack of potatoes. Immediately, Santorelli was at the controls, typing away furiously, changing course.

Jeanne was the first one out into the control room, weapon in hand. “What happened? What-” Santorelli turned to her, eyes still red. The smile he gave her was not human. Neither was the speed at which he ran at her. She fired the Shredder, missed. Santorelli was on her in half a second, bashing her head into the wall. Once. Twice. Marco knew the instant Jeanne died because he physically felt it in his stomach. Santorelli bashed her head once more.

Then he was kicked across the room by a hork-bajir foot. <Jake! Jeanne! Wake up and morph!> Tobias yelled. Being kicked by a hork-bajir would normally kill a human, or at the very least severely injure them. Santorelli morphed. Breaking every rule Marco knew about morphing, he was a polar bear in less than two seconds flat.

<What the-> Santorelli was suddenly on top of him. Tobias kicked again, pushing Santorelli into the control panel. The ship rocked. Santorelli dove at Tobias again. The fight was over in a couple of minutes. Tobias fought hard. But a polar bear is the fiercest predator on all of earth. And The One was somehow supercharging it. Marco watched in horror as The One held a broken and battered Tobias up by the throat. But it didn’t kill Tobias. Instead, its eyes flashed red, the color growing in intensity. Tobias, who had been feebly struggling, went limp as he looked into the polar bear’s eyes.

“It’s starting to absorb him,” the Ellimist explained, once again reading Marco’s mind.

Suddenly, the polar bear roared and dropped Tobias. It fell to its knees as a tiger sank its teeth into the bear’s flank. <Tobias! Get to the panel! We can’t let this thing escape again!>

Tobias limped to the control panel as Jake continued his fight with The One. No matter how much he clawed and bit at the polar bear, it did not go down. Suddenly, the ship accelerated in the opposite direction as Tobias punched in new directions in the control panel. The passengers were slammed to the front of the ship.

The One got a hold of Jake. Made him look into its eyes. Tobias crawled across the small ship and grabbed Jeanne’s abandoned shredder. He switched it to the highest setting and fired at The One. The blast should have killed it. The polar bear roared, its fur burning. But it did not let go of Jake. Tobias switched gears, pointing the shredder instead to the front of the ship. At the window. He met Jake’s gaze, his eyes now glazed over and a horrible tint of red.

Tobias fired. The window cracked. The One turned to him then and charged at him. Too late. Tobias had already fired again. And again. The window shattered and there was nothing left to protect the ship’s passengers from the vacuum of space.

“Nooooo!” Marco screamed as Jake’s body fell off the ship, as he felt his best friend die. Jeanne’s body followed after him. The One had gotten a hold of Tobias as he held onto the console. It tried to reach over him at the panel. Tobias slammed his fist against the panel and the ship was spinning now, out of control.The One clutched at Tobias, trying not to fall. Tobias let go of the console. He and The One tumbled out of the ship.

Marco closed his eyes, expecting the physical pull of his friend’s death. But it didn’t come. Marco opened his eyes, and watched as the Ellimist essentially- Well, he zoomed out of the illusion. He watched Tobias and The One continue to fall. He saw them be sucked into a black hole.

Still, Tobias didn’t die. Neither did The One. At least not yet. Time fast forwarded in front of him. Marco didn’t know how long. It could have been a few months, or a few centuries, but eventually he felt The One die. Saw the creature be killed by the Ellimist. Toomin. Tobias.

Marco turned to him, eyes narrowed. “It’s you. It’s been you this entire time.”

Tobias smiled at him, though his eyes were sad. “Your friend Tobias died in that black hole. Too much time has passed. I’ve experienced so many lives, some lived, others acquired through memories, that I could never claim to be just one person. But yes, I was once Tobias.”

Marco shook his head. The implications of what he was saying were- well, he couldn’t think about it right now. “I still don’t get it. Why am I here? Why are-” He thought then, of the story Tobias had told him. “You’re trying to change things.” Something like hope began to spread across his chest.

Tobias, not Tobias, shook his head. “It’s not what you think. I can’t change anything that has happened here.”

Marco’s heart sank. “Okay, so you can’t bring me back. But The One’s attack hasn’t happened yet. We can still-”

“No,” Tobias was shaking his head again. “I can’t change anything here again. It would violate the rules of-”

“This isn’t a fucking game!” Marco exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “What the hell is wrong with you!? These are your friends, damnit! You have the power to change things. I know you do! So fucking do something! ”

Tobias stared at him for a moment, then said, “If I were to save any of you right now, Crayak would immediately retaliate by destroying humanity. He might send a deadly disease or a weapon like the Howlers to annihilate every creature on earth.” Marco swallowed. “He’s done it before.”

The story keeps repeating over and over again. The feeling of dread was back. I can’t change anything here again. “What is this, some twisted groundhog day?”

Tobias tilted his head, thoughtfully. “In a way. Time… time is a tool, a weapon, even, that Crayak can wield. That I can too. But not without its limits. Some things we can change. Maybe you save someone who later fathers a doctor who goes on to find the cure for polio or cancer or whatever. In the future, someone who would have died from said disease as a kid instead becomes a prolific campaign manager who helps elect a president that wouldn’t have been elected otherwise. Said president prevents what would have been a world ending war. Etcetera, etcetera. You remember the time matrix.” Marco nodded. “But other things… some things are unchangeable. They will happen regardless. I don’t know why, but they do. The yeerks will always invade earth. The outcome of that war may change, but not the fact that it exists. Tobias will always fall through that black hole. It might be when he’s 19 or 60 but it will always happen.”

It was too much. This was all too much. “Why am I here?”

The Ellimist smiled at him. “Because you’ve always been great at finding the bright clear line. And right now I need that.”

Marco yelped as suddenly there were strings and lines and threads of all lengths and colors around him. He had the strangest feeling that if he moved, he’d be cut in pieces. Tobias snorted. “These aren’t lasers.” Marco glared at him. He really hated it when he did that. Tobias ignored him. “This is the fabric of time and space. A copy of it anyway.”

“Right, because that’s so much less terrifying,” Marco muttered. Still, he reached out a tentative finger and touched one of the strings.That section of the thread vibrated, and immediately, the threads around it began to vibrate as well.

“That’s a ripple,” The Ellimist explained. “Some changes have much bigger ripples than others. Watch.” Tobias reached out a finger and plucked one thread. The strings around it barely moved. He plucked at another and hundreds of threads around it began to vibrate. One of the threads, one that seemed to stretch for miles, shook violently, shaking other threads as it went. Marco followed the string with his eyes until he saw-

“What the hell is that?”

Tobias waved a hand in the air. “Jesus fucking christ,” Marco exclaimed as the strings all moved to the side, a new section of the threads now in front of him. Tobias waved his hand again. This new section of threads made way for new ones. The Ellimist was scrolling through the threads. He continued to do so until the section Marco had seen appeared before them. The rest of the thread had been taut and a bright, glowing white. This part was brittle, twisting and sagging, and a putrid greenish-black.

“I call it the rot,” Tobias explained. “This is one of those things that can’t be avoided.” The rot spread from one section of threads to the rest. Tobias scrolled through sections of the threads again. Soon, the only threads Marco could see were those that were rotting.

“What is it?” Marco said.

“It’s not good,” Tobias said plainly. “It’s like a poison. Maybe a virus. Every thread you see here represents thousands, millions of sentient beings destroyed by the rot. Not killed, but worse. If left unchecked, it will continue to spread to all threads around it. This is what I wanted your help with.”

“Don’t suppose I have much of a choice,” Marco said bitterly.

“Of course you have a choice, Marco.”

“Yeah? Stay here and talk to you or go back to bleeding out aboard the Rachel?”

Tobias winced. “Yeah, sorry. I can’t-”

“Can’t interfere. Yeah, yeah.” Marco rolled his eyes and sighed. It had been the right move, to come to him as Tobias. Marco was angry. So very mad and bitter and betrayed. But it would be so much easier to refuse to help the Ellimist he knew, an aggravating strange old man, than his old, trusted friend. Marco wondered for a second if maybe the Ellimist was making the whole thing up. But what difference did it make, really? He was still dead.

“I’ve run through hundreds and thousands of scenarios,” Not-Tobias said. He zoomed out of this section of threads. Zoomed into other sections of threads. He strung some threads. Cut others. Braided some with each other. “I’ve even played out a couple,” he admitted, “when I thought I had figured out a way to contain it.” Every time he zoomed out, the rot was still there. Sometimes the spread of it was bigger. Other times it was contained to smaller sections of threads. “I can’t get rid of it. I can only hope to contain it. Try to delay it as much as I can.” Marco stepped back. There were hundreds, thousands, millions of possibilities. How could he possibly-

“I found one possibility, one way to contain it as much as I can.” Tobias zoomed out one more time, carefully zoomed in until he found a specific set of threads. He cut them. He zoomed out again and again and scrolled and scrolled. Finally, towards what seemed to be the end of the threads, Marco saw the rot. It was contained to a few single strings. “If I play my cards right, I may even be able to contain the Crayak here.” Marco looked towards the end of the threads and saw only darkness.

“What’s-”

“That’s the inevitable heat death of the universe. Or this universe at least. Maybe another one eventually evolves again. I can’t say for certain.” Not-Tobias shrugged. Marco blinked at him. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t happen for another few million years.”

Marco shook his head, looked back towards what was left of the rot in this scenario. “It seems like you have your answer then. Why not set it into motion?”

The Ellimist zoomed back to where he had cut the strings. He pointed at them. “This is humanity.”

Marco gaped at him. “No. No! Are you insane? How is this even an option??”

“I’ve been looking for other options for centuries. I haven’t found any other way.”

“Then keep looking!” Marco yelled. “How could you even consider this? These are your people!!”

The Ellimist shook his head. “I haven’t been a human for a long time. And regardless, it isn’t just humanity I have to protect. There are millions of other species out there. Thousands-”

“You can’t just undo everything we fought for! Everything you fought for! What’s the matter-”

With a wave of the Ellimist’s hand, Marco was suddenly gone. Back at the Rachel. But not in pain. The Ellimist filled his mind with only his happiest memories. For Marco, this conversation never happened. He would meet death not with fear, but with a laugh.

It was what the Ellimist should have done in the first place. He never should have talked to him, revealed himself, upset him for now reason before his death. Besides, this conversation usually ended the same way.

It had been a while since he’d appeared in front of his old friends, since he’d told them the truth of who he was.

Hi Jake.

How’s it going, Cassie?

Hey, Ax-man.

Maybe he should have gone to Cassie, instead. Technically she wouldn’t be dead for another sixty years. Not that it mattered. She might be able to understand.

But.

The Ellimist had not gone to Marco to help him find a solution. He knew the solution. This was the solution. This was what he needed to do.

He could not sacrifice billions upon billions of lives to save one planet, no matter how dear it was to him. He could not be selfish about this.

But.

He had talked to one of his old friends. Felt his anger. His betrayal. The Ellimist has been reminded of he’d been, once upon a time. He had looked back.

The Ellimist needed to make his next move. He needed to defeat Crayak or risk losing so much more than humanity. He needed to stop the rot.

But the Ellimist always looked back.

He sighed. You win, he thought. He would keep looking. Maybe he would find another solution. Maybe this time, the end would be different.

Maybe if he started from the beginning one more time.

My name is Tobias. I can’t tell you my last name. Or where I live. It’s too dangerous.

#the writing's rough but you get the gist #also by “certain versions” i of course mean hadestown #animorphs #warriorlid writes

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jemiswumbo · 8 months ago

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she’s out of her mind

luke castellan x daughter of hades!reader

anon prompt: Hey babes! I saw your post about wanting prompts and I was wondering you could write Luke Castellan x Daughter of Hades! Reader where it's like sunshine (Luke) x grumpy (Reader) trope?

authors note: hello i am back with a small drabble for the cute prompt above! i got drunk off of applebees dollaritas and wrote this in 15mins so do with that information what you will. hope you enjoy! :)

title is from she’s out of her mind by blink-182. lyrics are a lil fitting.

warnings: none? i think? it’s just fluff, i think. sort of.

“Wake up, sunshine.”

You groaned low and deep, releasing a guttural sound full of pure agony. Rolling over on your (extremely warm, cozy, sleep inducing) bed, you came face to face with your boyfriend, Luke Castellan, who was currently opening up the curtains in your cabin.

Being the only child of Hades at the camp, the entire cabin was sparse and empty, save for the corner you called home. There was a bed with black sheets and blanket, a side table full of the few memorabilia you had to your name, and a dresser beside that which held your extensive collection of black clothing. The walls resembled the inner workings of a cavern; slick rock prodded with small bones and beautiful jewels encapsulated the bedroom areas. Sconces held lit torches burning bright with turquoise Greek fire.

Your favourite part of the cabin, though, was the specially-crafted blackout curtains that were typically drawn tight over the windows. Not even a sliver of light could penetrate the thick, black, velvet drapes. That was, until, your idiot boyfriend took it upon himself to draw them open. The harsh blades of sunlight violated your eyes, illiciting your pained groan. You hated it when people interrupted your sleep.

“Luke,” You whined, shoving your face into your pillow, hoping to evade the blinding light. “Let me sleep, please, for the love of the gods.”

“Fuck the gods,” Luke said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice without needing to see his (cute, devilishly handsome) face. “Anyways, it’s 9am! You’ve slept in long enough and I wanna have breakfast with you and your pretty face.” Luke flopped down on the bed beside you and flipped your body back over with ease, in a foolish attempt to force you into the world of the living.

Typical for a child of Death, you kept your eyes squeezed shut and pounded the bedsheet with your fist. “I will literally, genuinely, actually murder you without hesitation if you don’t leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s no way to talk to your boyfriend.” Luke said, pressed a small kiss to your nose. You swatted him away with anger.

Any other (normal, rational, smart) kid at camp would’ve soiled their pants and fled in terror from such a threat uttered by the one and only daughter of Hades. You were capable of a simple killing — you were graciously bestowed the gift of sucking out the souls of mortals with a mere flick of the wrist — and so it was only logical to fear such a ghastly claim. Luke, however, had realized early on in your Camp days that you were full of shit and would never hurt a fly. He took an opportunity to befriend you and you’d been dating for a few years now. You were (truly, madly, deeply) in love with him and yes, despite your immense hatred for morning sunlight, you would never actually hurt him.

“Come on,” he prodded again, cuddling up beside you and tapping your forehead mischievously. You mustered the courage to crack open one eye (barely) and saw him grinning down at you. “Wake up, baby. Let’s get breakfast and then spend the day at the docks. We can swim and sun bathe and have a picnic—“

“Gods, you’re ambitious today,” you grumbled, rolling back over to face the opposite direction of Luke (and, the open windows), allowing him to grab your waist and pull you up against his chest. “I hate being in the sun. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I like to try new things with you,” Luke said, peppering a few kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck, squeezing his taut arm around your torso. “And I’m dying to see you in a bikini.”

“Perv,” you mumbled, but deep down you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, causing a crimson blush to bloom over your chest. “Give me another hour to sleep.”

“No,” Luke said, and now it was his turn to groan impatiently. “Please, now, for me? I love you and want to spend time with you.”

“I hate you and want you to leave me alone,” you replied, pulling your fluffy duvet back up over your shoulders. “Bed time.”

“Beach time,” Luke decided. He sat up slightly and ripped the blankets entirely off your form, exposing your body to the cold air of the morning.

You shrieked. “Luke, you asshole—“

Luke jumped out of the bed, smiling wide. He gathered up all the blankets up into his arms, much to your dismay, and held them away from you. You only wore shorts and a tank top to sleep last night, and the chill in the room froze you right to your bones. Luke bundled up the bedding into a ball and fired it across the room. “There, now you’re acclimated.”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

“You are a grouchy, sleepy demon who needs breakfast and vitamin D.”

“Ugh!” You exploded, finally shoving yourself out of bed in a fit of exasperation. Luke had the audacity to applaud you. “Okay, there, I’m up!”

“So proud of you, my sleeping beauty,” Luke remarked. He crossed the room to you and placed a tender kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your pouty bottom lip.

“Sorry for being rude,” You murmured, after having kissed him back. “I love you. I just don’t love being woken up.”

“I know,” Luke said with a grin. “I actually think you’re cute when your grumpy, so I do it on purpose to bug you.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the small smirk from appearing on your cheeks. “Whatever. You promised breakfast and I’m starving, so let’s go.”

Luke mimicked your playful eyeroll. He took your hand, leading you out the door and towards the dining pavilion.

note 2: hi hi! if you read this and enjoyed it and maybe want to read more from me, i would super appreciate prompts and requests sent to my inbox! can’t guarantee i’ll write them all but i will for sure try my best! thanks for reading! :)

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #jemiswriting

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ry3breadl0rd · 1 year ago

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some titles uncle rick deprived us of

”I Fall To My Death (Again)” for the fall into tartarus

“I Get Mugged by Monsters” that one chapter where leo’s tool belt gets stolen

“Jason Meets his Brother” hercules chapter

“I Obtain A Death Ray” the sphere thing

“Leo Makes a Great First Impression” when he blows up new rome

“I Scare Some Pirates With An Unofficial Sponsorship” that chapter where percy scares off the pirates with diet coke

“A Spider Hates My Mom” annabeth at any point with arachne ngl

“Scrawny Is The New Sizzling Hot” leo+hazel with narcissus

“We Get Slapped to New York” zeus smacking the argo ll to new york

“Nyx Gives Us A Tour” when they convince nyx to not murder them immediately by pretending they’re tourists

“My Evil Great-Grand Mother Wakes Up” self explanatory i hope

“Hazel Orders A Horse From Amazon” hazel meets arion

“I Get Blasted Out Of This World” leo goes to ogygia

“Fleecy Does Us A Solid” when they meet iris

“I Tame A Dragon” leo with argo

“I Vaporize Some Old Ladies” first chapter of son

“I Give My Dad Some Decor Tips” nico and hades conversation

“Piper Talks Her Boyfriend To Life” when piper charm speaks jason back to life

“I Play Roulette With A Blind Man” when percy drinks the gorgons blood

“Piper Sees Dead People (In Her Knife)” i might be remembering wrong but it’s that one where they try to trick piper by showing her how her friends were doing in her knife, like trying to convince her they were all dead

“We Use Adidas To Summon A Goddess” nike chapter

“Mudman, Hazel, and Frank Get Brunch” when they get to alaska

“I Learn The Power Of Positivity” percy and misery

“We Meet A Cool Girl (Literally)” khione chapter

“I’m Leo. You Killed My Mother. It’s My Turn” based on the funny comment:) it’s for when leo blows up gaea

“My Nosebleed Wakes Up My Great-Grandma” when gaea wakes up

“Mr. D Hates Ballet” when he helps percy and jason against the twin giants

“Frank Gets A Blast To The Past” when hazel shares her past with him

“Frank Sets Himself On Fire” with the firewood and freeing thatanos

“I Got A Girlfriend?” jason first chapter

”Why Did It Have To Be Poison?” that chapter with polybotes

“Jason Becomes The Oldest Demigod!” old man jason

“Game Night Goes Too Far” war games in son

“The World Hates Us, Literally” hoh when they’re low key attacked by like everything

“We Traumatize Frank” when percabeth gets caught together

“Lions, and Tigers, and Frank, Oh My!” when frank unlocks his shapeshifting stuff

“I Aquire a Misfortune Cookie” i might be delulu but didn’t nemesis omfg i knew that why did i put nike give leo a fortune cookie to open if he needed help?? but price would not be fun

“The Law is On My Side For Once” percy and terminus vs polybotes

“Being A Dumb Blonde Has Its Perks” annabeth when she drops the knife that one chapter

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #piper mclean #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #frank zhang #annabeth chase #jason grace #leo valdez #headcanon #demigods #chapter

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ye4gerism · 1 month ago

Note

This has been on my mind for a while and I’m kinda surprised no body really wrote about it but could you please do one were reader basically gets into curly’s ass about jimmy but it kinda leads into a lil heated argument you can chose if it ends on a good note also have a good morning, day or night 😊

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊, 𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐒, 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 - 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

author’s note sorry for the radio silence. i’ve been suffering from writer’s block. working retail during the holidays will do that to you. anyway, enjoy this ficlet.

You were starting to wake. Through your eyelids, you noticed how the room around you began to brighten up. You let out a groan and turn onto your side before proceeding to tap your hand on the side where Curly normally slept…and yet you felt nothing there. Your eyelids flick open in horror.

Curly's side of the bed was empty. You sit up, frantic. Where was he? You look at his dresser, then yours - no note. You scan the room and there isn't any sign that he's gone.

You scoot off the bed and go downstairs. As you descend, you can hear his voice. You follow it into the kitchen where you finally see him standing there, still in his boxers, one hand on his hip, and the other holding his phone against his ear. He looks frustrated, must be that pony job he always complains about.

Curly acknowledges you with a smile before focusing once again on his conversation. "No, that makes no sense! I already told you I was coming here!"

You walk up behind Curly and lean against his back. Your hands run up his torso, feeling up his pectorals and his abs.

“Alright, Jimmy,” he says.

Of course.

You pull away at the sound of that name. You didn't really like how Jimmy presented himself; there was a strange amount of jealousy from his end and he could just never be happy for others. There was already a mutual dislike for each other but your boyfriend, Curly being Curly, takes his job too seriously and lets it spill into his personal life. He thinks he can H.R. his way into making you and Jimmy friends or, at least, respect each other.

Curly hangs up and turns around to greet you. "Good morning, sweetheart." He lights up with these words, no sign of being bothered by his conversation. You decide not to say anything at first. If anything, you were a little annoyed - if he was going to wake up before you, you'd at least hope he'd go out on a run or maybe surprise you with a sweet treat or flowers. You open the fridge in search of something to eat. Milk, eggs, leftover pomegranate.

"Babe?" Curly's head pokes over the fridge. "I said good morning."

You decide to eat the pomegranate for breakfast. Wouldn't want it to go bad.

"I bet it is. How's your boyfriend?" you ask. Curly's face drops. You close the fridge and take a seat by the island counter.

"Hey, don't walk away from me. What's up with you?" he asks. You shoot him a look, then your eyes move to his phone. Curly eyes follow yours and it hits him once his eyes settle on his phone.

"Please don't start. Not this morning."

"Oh, so you're aware. Perfect!" You place your cut pomegranate back in the bowl. "My question is just why? Why do you give him so much...control?"

"Control? I am my own man, you know. Captain of my own ship." You must have hit a nerve because Curly normally doesn't get defensive like this. Using his title to make him seem better? Not a usual practice of his.

"You deliver shit! People at NASA get to brag about going to space to explore! You don't. So don't let your ego get in the way of me questioning your relationship with your idiot friend."

He was Persephone, Jimmy was Hades, and like Demeter, you only had Curly for the spring and summer.

You both stare intensely at each other for a moment and it was the 'let's just hop in the sheets and fuck it out' intensity. You both were genuinely pissed at each other.

"I'm going to step out," Curly says breaking the silence. He starts to make his way up the stairs. "Yeah, avoid the question of Jimmy, like you always do!" you yell at him.

"Shut up!" He's halfway up the stairs. Your head cocks back. "Did you tell me to shut up?" He's never spoken to you like that - you're not even sure he's spoken to anyone like that.

Curly realizes what he's just said and is equally as shocked by his own mouth. He rushes down the stairs and reaches out to you. When he's close, you turn your body away. "Hey..." he pleads.

"Curly...please go. Go anywhere. I don't know. Go call Jimmy or something. Just get out of my sight." You push your bowl of fruit away from you. Still refusing to face him, you continue, "I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Especially, especially, if we're talking about Jimmy. You must be out of your fucking mind."

He lingers before finally giving in. "Ok...I'll step out for a bit." Curly hesitantly places a hand on your back. You don’t tell him off or recoil. “I’m sorry and…and I shouldn’t have said that to you.”

Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge the actual problem - Jimmy. So you choose to let it go because it’s all you can do. Curly gives you the day to yourself before coming home for dinner. A bouquet of your flowers and tons of kisses make up for the quarrel for now.

#captain curly #curly mouthwashing #captain curly x reader #curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #curly x reader mouthwashing #black yn #black reader

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sulumuns-dootah · 5 months ago

Text

If WHB had PvP: King interactions

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Started playing new gacha game with PvP arena and got me thinking how the kings would react to having to fight other kings or their own selves ^^

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan vs. Satan

"Wait, that's me?! Do I also have clones now like that fly bastard?"

"Hahaha I hope he enjoyed that as much as I did!"

"I'm not that short, c'mon!"

"Do you think that guy also has his own Sitri or do we both share him?

Satan vs. Mammon

"Who are you calling short?"

"This is what you get for taking what's mine!"

"Do you notice me now?"

"Heh, you won't see this one coming"

Satan vs. Beelzebub

"No matter how many clones he has, I'll beat him anyway"

"You stay away from my knees! Don't want a repeat of last time."

"This was the last time your clones took turns with MC!"

"After we're done here, wanna grab drinks?"

Satan vs. Leviathan

"Here's a little taste of what will happen the next time you'll try to kill MC!"

"About time someone burst that bubble of yours!"

"Time to wake up and smell the roses!"

"Who even is this guy, wanting to go back to school?"

Satan vs. Belphegor

"Man, imagine being able to sleep. Couldn't be me!"

"Oh hey, did anyone else see that corpse reanimate itself?"

"For someone who sleeps all the time, he sure does look tired."

"That guy Beleth, I could use someone like him too."

Satan vs. Lucifer

"Heh, look who just became a harmacist!"

"I wonder... if he injured me, would he also heal me afterwards?"

"When I first met him, he seemed weaker... Still, he's no match for me!"

"I heard a squeak earlier... Did I accidentally step on that tiny piss ballon?

Mammon vs. Satan

"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't notice you down there."

"I don't mean to be rude. It seems he's very insecure about many things."

"He's like an adorable kitten when he wants to play punch."

"I like small things"

Mammon vs. Mammon

"Ah, what a strange state of affairs. I must've somehow gotten multiplied."

"If there's two of me, does that mean we must share?"

"Do I own him or does he own me?"

"So this is what it feels like to be a Beelzebub."

Mammon vs. Beelzebub

"My subjects tell me he's more in Tartaros than in his own country"

"His food is palatable with enough gold on it."

"If I recall correctly, he tried to eat one of the pillars in my castle."

"I won't hold back the next time he whisks my master away."

Mammon vs. Leviathan

"That coffin seems valuable, I shall look into it more"

"I must admit, Hades is a beautiful country."

"Leviathan could use a visit to one of many Tartaros' spas."

"He's so pale. He should go out more."

Mammon vs. Belphegor

"I do respect a country which hasn't descended into chaos with the king mostly absent."

"I shall send him some new bedsheets. Who knows when was the last time he's had them changed."

"Ahahah, I do admit you do have a very unique power!"

"Such lifestyle does look appealing, alas my country would greatly miss my presence."

Mammon vs. Lucifer

"I respect you deeply. This is nothing personal."

"If you require financial aid, do not hesitate to ask."

"I hope Buer is satisfactory in his position as a healer"

"Do you miss your father as much as I sometimes do?"

Beelzebub vs. Satan

"Huhu, you're cute trying to fight me!"

"Oh, we were fighting?"

"I'm bored, let's jump someone together!"

"Hm, I kinda want a snack now."

Beelzebub vs. Mammon

"I could use a bigger meal."

"I just heard one of the Tartaros' beaches calling me. I have to go."

"Maybe we could go visit my favorite Abyssos casinos afterwards!"

"Hm, I wonder how the pillars in his castle taste like."

Beelzebub vs. Beelzebub

"Oh hello, me!"

"I see you're handling everything here, so I'll just get going."

"If you go to that café in Gehenna, I can go to that stall with fish sweets in Hades..."

"Are you Bael or are you really me?"

Beelzebub vs. Leviathan

"Levi! Nice to see you again!"

"I wonder if he liked the last souvenir I bought him..."

"C'mon, next time I'm in Hades I'm treating you to a fish steak!"

"Sometimes I think he'd love to give me a noose around neck too."

Beelzebub vs. Belphegor

"You won't mind if I borrow Beleth for a few weeks, right?"

"Ah, how is Andrealphus doing?"

"I wish I wasn't so busy and could just lay in bed all day!"

"If only Bael was here to see how well can a country flourish without the king being around all the time."

Beelzebub vs. Lucifer

"Next time invite your angel brothers along."

"I don't need anymore shots for now."

"Another Seraphim down."

"Paradise Lost is pretty, but the smell is horrible."

Leviathan vs. Satan

"Ah, how pitiful you'd even try to mesure up to me."

"Size matters, don't you know?"

"I expected nothing less from you."

"Someday you might grow out of it."

Leviathan vs. Mammon

"A shame, truly. You seemed as a worthy ally."

"Money isn't really what matters. It's beauty."

"That palace of his is very tacky, don't you think?"

"I've won, of course."

Leviathan vs. Beelzebub

"Ugh, just please stop talking."

"You're lucky you're not one of my subjects."

"I shall end you quickly to end my suffering."

"I wish I could be back at my castle."

Leviathan vs. Leviathan

"Finally, I get to defeat myself and come as the winner!"

"Who dares to multiply me and make me compete with myself?!"

"Hm... That color doesn't seem to suit my complexion."

"I'm jealous of other people for being able to see me from such point of view."

Leviathan vs. Belphegor

"Oh, to be able to stay at home all day without being interrupted."

"My coffin is way more comfortable than that cheap bed."

"Hades is beautiful and blooming, unlike Niflheim."

"Where is this Beleth I keep hearing about?"

Leviathan vs. Lucifer

"I shall keep an eye on you at all times."

"All angels are deemed untrustworthy in my eyes."

"I will never forgive your kind for what you've done to us."

"Perhaps, you'd also like to forget your past?"

Belphegor vs. Satan

"Man, your existence's gotta be terrible..."

"Jeez, why are you so loud?"

"Anger drains so much energy..."

"Couldn't be me..."

Belphegor vs. Mammon

"Nice pillows..."

"All that gold looks uncomfortable.."

"Wonder how nice the hotels are in Tartaros..."

"Can ya get me some figures at the Hellcon?"

Belphegor vs. Beelzebub

"Ya exhaust me..."

"Tell Bael I ain't givin' Beleth to anyone.."

"Ya gotta be tired from all that runnin' 'round..."

"Ugh, I'm exhausted..."

Belphegor vs. Leviathan

"Six... I'll have ya obliterated!"

"Ya remind me of that one anime character that dies in the end..."

"Imagine putting all that work in just to look like that..."

"I wonder when they'll announce another season..."

Belphegor vs. Belphegor

"Oh?"

"Well, what in tarnation?"

"Makes me double tired..."

"Ope, am I still dreamin'?"

Belphegor vs. Lucifer

"Hospital beds ain't comfy..."

"This Hell might be big enough for the two of us..."

"Agares might need ya soon, if he don't shape up..."

"That Andrealphus, he seems hurt, check up on him, will ya?"

Lucifer vs. Satan

"Humans believe you've taken on all my wrath towards my father. Thank you for relieving me of such impure emotions."

"You. I'd expected you taller."

"I deeply apologise for all the grief my brothers have caused you."

"Morax asked me to remind you to wear your mouth guard."

Lucifer vs. Mammon

"Ah, father must've been very generous while creating you."

"I can sense a deep sadness within you..."

"If your horn stump becomes painful, my doctors can help you."

"There were many demons who required back pain treatment after carrying his riches."

Lucifer vs. Beelzebub

"I was told my brother fears you. If that is what will keep him in line, I shall support such occurence."

"That Phenomenon, what exactly is it?"

"I believe you're due in for another health check up."

"They call him wandering king and yet I have yet to see him vacation in Paradise Lost."

Lucifer vs. Leviathan

"My lord, you truly are the epitome of vanity."

"Could you please keep your servant in check, so we do not have to use spells to ensure our morgue doesn't get broken into?"

"The amount of Hades demons addmited to the hospital because of thorn injuries is great. I wonder why?"

"I am deeply sorry for all the horrible things you've been through. I should've intervened."

Lucifer vs. Belphegor

"I feel insulted to be now considered your fellow."

"I believe we do have a cure for narcolepsy, If you'd be interested."

"Beleth, that name sounds familiar..."

"That halo doesn't seem like it was your to begin with."

Lucifer vs. Lucifer

"Has... father created another copy of me?"

"Am I so easily replaceable?"

"So this is how all the other demons see me... I now understand."

"If there's two of me, I shall work twice as hard now..."

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb belphegor #whb lucifer

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halfling-myth-lady · 9 months ago

Text

Okay,so hades two has just released and I want to talk about some things:

On one hand,no narrator Zagreus which was something I hoped would happen so :(

But on the other hand,NARRATOR HOMER CONFIRMED!

I already like Apollo.he’s fun.

Dora is so cute.

In the trailer I got “strict teacher vibes” from Hecate but it’s a pleasant surprise to see how soft she is with baby Mel.

Also the portrait with zag,hades,and Persephone…

(They better not be dead supergiants-)

HYPNOS WHO DID THIS TO YOU

But on the topic,I think it’ll be an Orpheus situation where the second(or even third) boss gives us an item like a divine water bucket or something that we can use to wake him up.

Oh look a reason to use the cast.

HERMES IS MISSING?SUPERGIANTS WTF DONT TELL ME THAN IS NEXT-

Okay,but I also think this could be something like in hades early access were they aluded to things that’ll be added later.

This adds up with the fact that in hades 1 Hermes was the penultimate god added and you can’t get him till asphodel(i think)

Either way he better be okay.

The character portraits range from “pretty good”to “yep this is gonna get touched up” but not in a bad way.just that the shading look kind of off

Also I already love Hephaestus and hestia.

They are hyping up hestia as a nice grandma that can go unhinged if needed and I am all for it.

As soon as I saw Odysseus I already knew It’d be hilarious if Poseidon was there and what do you know?

Speaking of,I wonder if all gods from hades 1 are gonna come back or a few are gonna get switched around.

If so then ares is probably getting shafted which makes me sad.

On that topic,Aphrodite wearing ares’ war makeup is great.

Seeing Selene made me wonder if Helios is gonna appear,but then I remembered Apollo.

But even then i still want other titans to be added like the air guys just so that we can have an Apollo/zephyr interaction if possible.(if you know you know.

If Hermes does appear in this game I wish he has duo’s with other gods.(and his own curse)

I also wish that since we see Artemis outside of the boon bubble we can have profesional associates interactions.

#hadesgame #hades game #hades supergiant #supergiant games #supergiant hades #hades 2 #hades zagreus #hades apollo #hades Dora #hades Hecate #hades hypnos #hades hermes #hades Hephaestus #hades hestia #hades Odysseus #hades ares #hades aphrodite #hades Selene #hades artemis

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

Text

The Lost Haven (14/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex content, kind of hate sex too, oral sex, fingering, smut, the angst, drug dealing, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She wasn't sure when she first felt it: that overwhelming, suffocating terror, the unpleasant, cold sweat on her back, the anxiety and fear. Just as in her childhood, such feelings were evoked in her by the darkness, mostly when she did not feel his warm body beside her, his safe arms not embracing her, his calm breath not enveloping her face.

She opened her eyes then, always feeling the same thing: panic.

Her fingers tightened on the duvet as she realised after a moment, semi-conscious, where and who she was, who she was actually waiting for and why he wasn't there.

An almost physical pain accompanied her as she realised that her uncle was not with her, that he had gone again to sink into his Hades, his World of the Dead, full of drugs, shootings and whores, something she never wanted to have anything to do with.

She would then look anxiously at her watch, counting the seconds, the minutes, the hours, flinching at every creak of the floor or sound in the stairwell, her heart pounding in the hope that it was him, that he had returned, that she would soon be able to sleep in peace again, wrapped in his arms and his wonderful, familiar scent.

He did not return, however, and as usual, when her despair reached its zenith her only thought was that he was dead.

That he wasn't coming back this time.

Even though she knew she shouldn't do it, she would then pull out her phone and call him with tears in her eyes, praying that he would answer, her breath stifling in her throat, when suddenly she heard his voice on the other end.

"What is it?" He asked impatient and frightened, as if he feared the worst.

That something had happened to her.

She was relieved because he was alive and didn't know how to act, how to explain the fact that she was actually bothering him with whatever he was doing for no reason.

"I woke up and you weren't in bed." She muttered in pain, listening to his quiet sigh of fatigue and understanding.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want to wake you up. I have to stay here for at least another hour."

She swallowed hard, glancing at her watch, seeing that it was one o'clock in the morning.

Another hour alone, in the emptiness of his flat, which felt foreign and cold without him.

Even with her things there, it didn't feel like home.

It was his flat, his space, his Hades, and she was just a visitor in his darkness.

"Why?" She asked like a small child, looking around her, again seeing the various frightening shapes in the objects that stood in the room.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think about it, repeating to herself that, after all, she had long since outgrown this fear, that monsters did not exist.

"I have a problem with one man. We are clarifying things, but he is…reluctant. He has taken a lot of money from me, but he has not given me what I need. I have to go. One more hour and I'll be back, I promise." He whispered in pain, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart in her throat.

Had he just tortured someone?

No, he'd promised her he wouldn't do such things.

That he would do everything he could to avoid violence.

"Oh. Okay." She mumbled, unable to get anything else out, feeling even more terrified than the moment she had called him.

Her lower lip began to tremble when she heard him hang up, tears of fear and despair one by one began to run down her face.

She went into the living room, lay down on the sofa and turned on the TV: the sounds that came from it and the light it emitted made the space around her seem less frightening.

She thought she would just wait for him.

However, an hour passed, then another, and he still wasn't there.

She curled up on the couch and began to cry, tired and drowsy, at the same time unable to fall asleep, Vhagar lying next to her on the floor turning from time to time, having no similar worries to her.

She shuddered as she opened her eyes, still half asleep, feeling someone touch her, his familiar arms lifting her up.

"– easy – it's just me, little one –" He whispered tenderly, her hands and legs automatically entwined around him like vines, her heart full of pain and relief at the same time.

He was back.

She stared at him, breathing loudly through her mouth, at his familiar, beloved face, his sad look full of remorse, his fingers stroking her cheek tenderly.

"– you promised –" She mumbled, hurt and disappointed, his broad hand running over the skin of her warm face as his brow arched in pain.

"– I know, baby – I know – I'm here now –"

He always made love to her when he returned, no matter what state she was in. Even if she tried to push him away, to show him her anger and dismay, his hands and lips full of patience caressed her between her thighs until she fell apart in front of him.

He only took her when she was completely vulnerable, her cunt all slick and leaking from her peak offering him no resistance, even more delicate and sensitive to his every sharp thrust. She couldn't push him away then, craving only the embrace of his arms, his lips that devoured her in a thirsty, yearning kiss.

Their hands clenched desperately on their bodies, cuddling them into each other with loud grunts and moans escaping from their throats, wordlessly testifying to the fact that they both suffered the same way through the separations they experienced almost every night, finally being together again. She drew then on his sighs, his assurances and his pleasure, his gaze filled with an affection so deep it frightened her.

There was something beautiful in the fact that he was somehow devouring her, bit by bit.

The feeling of emptiness would only return when he disappeared again a few nights later.

In between, in the time when she woke up in his embrace, when she looked at his peaceful face in the sunshine, she had the feeling that she was a completely different person: everything made her happy.

In her presence, her uncle was gentle; that didn't mean he didn't get frustrated or that they always agreed, but sensing subconsciously that her words weren't meant to attack him, he reigned himself in and expressed the understanding she so desperately needed.

He did not treat her as his housekeeper or maid: together they went shopping, cleaned his flat, went out with Vhagar, did laundry. She enjoyed watching him from the sidelines as he did simple, prosaic tasks: cutting vegetables next to her, reading on the internet how to make a dish they liked, wondering aloud with her if he had just poured too much pepper into the pot.

"– fuck, so spicy –" He muttered when he tasted what he'd made with the sauce, but she decided when she tasted it herself that it wasn't so bad, and that pepper, unlike salt, was very healthy.

He chuckled at her words, looking at her with pity, as if he was wordlessly trying to tell her that she didn't need to show him mercy.

She noticed that he began to laugh and smile in her presence.

That he began to joke and tease her.

That they talked about things that were increasingly difficult and complicated, and that he didn't back down or avoid answering.

That he had changed.

And then his phone would ring again at night, and he would get up quietly, get dressed and leave.

It felt like she was regressing at that moment: all her childhood phobias, the terror of being left in the dark, were coming back to her with redoubled force, and although she didn't tell him, she would light the small lamp next to her bed, calling Vhagar to come inside, wanting to at least hear her breathing beside her.

Only when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock did she turn off the light, afraid he would think she was being childish, and pretend to sleep until his hands sank into the softness of her body under her shirt, his lips against her ear, whispering:

"– I'm back, baby –"

A few days of sweet peace had lulled her vigilance again, and the appearance of his grandfather on his doorstep made her state of limbo between worlds collapse. As she locked herself in her room, where she didn't usually stay but kept most of her belongings and books, she began to reflect on the fact that although her mother had called her several times, she hadn't had the courage to answer her.

She didn't know what words to use, fearing that she would try to convince her to come home.

But there was no going back for her.

Not there.

It bothered her that this conversation had gone on for so long and she felt an overwhelming urge to overhear what they were talking about, but she held back, thinking that she should trust him, that he surely knew what he was doing. She jumped up on the bed when she heard the front door open and close, getting up uncertainly and stepped outside, looking at his silhouette from a distance.

He was bent over the countertop and had just had a glass of whisky despite it being so early.

Why?

She approached him uncertainly, feeling his aura, his rage and frustration.

"What did he want?" She asked, watching in horror as he filled his glass anew with alcohol.

"That I should come back. I didn't agree." He replied coarsely, not even looking at her.

She swallowed quietly, glancing sideways at him, her hand touching his shoulder seeing his gaze, frantic and wild.

"Aemond. What happened?" She mumbled and he looked at her in a way that made her feel a cold sweat on her back, a darkness and emptiness in his eyes, something she felt like running away from and hiding under the bed.

"Are you deaf?"

She stared at him with big eyes, feeling for a moment that she had lost her breath and her heart stopped. She turned away, moved ahead and closed herself in her room, locking the door behind her with the key, feeling that her hands were trembling.

Who was this man?

She naively thought that that look, that tone of voice was reserved only for his men, only for those with whom he had to talk rough, whom he had to press down and destroy, but not for her, never for her.

She sat on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chin, and sat like that, staring dully ahead, feeling shivers with every move or step he made on the other side.

He knocked on her door only hours later, when she was struggling to concentrate on reading one of her textbooks.

"– baby, I'm sorry – he brought me out of balance and I took it out on you – I shouldn't have done that – it's a hard subject for me – will you join me and Vhagar for a walk? –" He asked in a voice she knew well, the same one he had used after he had forcibly kept her in his family home.

In a voice filled with remorse.

She looked at the pages filled with text, thinking with surprise that she didn't want to go anywhere with him, didn't want to do anything with him, didn't want to have anything to do with him.

She thought the look was for everyone else, but not for her.

That she was special.

But she wasn't.

"– I'm reading a book – I'd rather stay home –" She said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear her.

A long silence answered her and she was afraid he would become furious, but he only swallowed hard, as if her words had hurt him.

"– okay – we'll be back soon –"

He made several more attempts to drag her out of the room, she however felt safe there, knowing that he could not violate her space by force and had to stand outside, waiting patiently until she wanted to look him in the eye again.

"– are you angry with me? –" He asked at last.

She felt tears under her eyelids thinking that she was not angry with him.

She was afraid of him.

But she wasn't sure if he would bear those words.

"– shall we watch something on TV? – I'll stroke your head afterwards before bed, just the way you like it – I'm sorry –" He mumbled out like a little boy, and she felt a squeeze in her heart knowing that he had already returned, that he was again the one she loved, the one she wanted, the one she had agreed to marry then, on that beach.

She looked at her bracelet made of candy and then at the scar underneath it, thinking that she was sure the man because of whom she had made it to herself had disappeared.

"– I think I'd rather spend the evening here – if that's okay –" She muttered in a breaking voice, feeling tear after tear run down her face, her lips quivering all over with emotion, with regret that she had to push away, if only for a moment, the man whose presence she craved incessantly, because she needed distance and a moment to breathe.

A sense that she, too, had something to say in a situation where everything really depended on him.

"– oh – okay – I'll be next door if you need me –" He replied, and she closed her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line, trying not to make a sound, feeling her chest twitch with each of her quiet sobs.

And then, as the late evening fell, she saw him turn on the light in the hallway, heard him put on his jacket and shoes, and her heart stopped in her throat.

No.

"I have to go out. I don't know when I'll be back." He said loudly, and she jumped up from the bed as if burned, opening her door quickly, facing him, pale and shocked.

"– why? –" She mumbled with difficulty, thinking that she didn't want him to leave, that she just wanted him to let her be alone for a while, but for him to be next door, in the other room.

"– the policeman who was helping us was shot – Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him – the consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me –" He muttered without strength, as if he was very tired and weary, something in his gaze that told her he had given up.

Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him.

The consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me.

"Take me with you." She whispered, just wanting to make sure he was okay, that everything was under control, that she would be with him and not in an empty, dark, big, scary flat, counting down the hours and minutes until his return.

"No. I can't. I won't make the same mistake again. The more they are aware that you are not my temporary whim, the more danger I put you in." He said, and she shook her head, deciding that she didn't care what happened to her.

She could no longer stand the terrifying emptiness she felt when the door closed behind him and she was left alone in her cage.

"Then treat me like your whore in front of them."

She saw that his eyes grew big at her words, as if he couldn't believe they really came out of her mouth.

"What did you say?"

"Treat me as if you're bored with me. As if you hold me close just because I am Daemon's daughter. Be cold and chilly. You can hit me if you want." She said without thinking, deciding that it didn't matter anymore anyway.

In their eyes she was just his whore anyway, a deviant, a niece he had raped and made his sex toy out of.

"What? Do you want me to do it so you can find the strength to leave me? Reassure yourself of how fucked up I am?" He asked furiously, gesturing with his hands in a sign of impatience, his words like a cold shower that woke her up, making her realise what she was really afraid of and why she was so desperate to say something like that.

"I don't want to stay here alone, wondering if you're still alive. The fear I feel then no lamp can light up." She muttered with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't hold back the tears that flowed down her face.

His eyebrows arched in pain, as if it was only then that he understood what she was trying to convey to him, something in his gaze that told her he had hesitated, that he felt something, that there was hope.

"– I don't know, baby – God, I have to go – I –" He mumbled, and she nodded, not wanting him to think about it.

"– give me five minutes –" She said and disappeared out the door, looking for some of his hoodies in the wardrobe to put on, feeling relieved.

And then she heard his quick footsteps, the sound of the door opening and closing, the fact that he had shut it with a lock he knew she didn't have a key for.

She ran out into the corridor, looking at it, the symbol of her enslavement, and ran towards it as if she had lost her mind, bursting into a loud sob, banging on it as if she were a small child.

"– NO – NO, NO, NO, AEMOND, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE – TAKE ME WITH YOU, PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME –" She shouted, choking on her tears, digging her short nails into the wooden structure, pounding on it with her fists only to fall to her knees.

"– I'M SCARED, I'M SCARED, I'M SCARED, PLEASE –" She whined, laying down on the floor, but he was gone.

She felt Vhagar run up to her, sniffing her anxiously only to lie down beside her a moment later and they lasted like that, an hour, or maybe more, lying cuddled together.

When she woke up, she was blinded by the light of the lamp in the corridor – she felt an unpleasant shiver and the fact that she was cold, so she picked herself up from the floor and went to her room. Vhagar moved behind her, apparently thinking that perhaps they would go out for a walk, however, even if she wanted to, she could not open the door now.

He had locked her in here.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling a constriction in her chest, tears one by one running down the side of her face onto the pillow under her head, complete nothingness in her mind, darkness, as if there was not a drop of light left in her.

He didn't return until hours later – his silhouette that stopped in the doorway of her room was dark and tall, as if he were a demon, a nightmare, a demigod, a dream, but not human.

The touch of his hand on her skin, his fingers digging into her flesh, his lip that she bit, the taste of his blood on her tongue seemed at once completely foreign and wonderfully familiar to her.

"– no –" She breathed out, wanting to punish him, to push him away, to make him feel what she felt.

However, her body betrayed her, her pussy leaked under his fingers with desire and lust, with the need for him to embrace her and wrap her in the warmth of his body, for his hard manhood to sink deep into her again and soothe her.

"– I'm back – I'm here, baby – you can let go now –" He whispered, as if uttering some kind of spell or curse from which her body relaxed, allowing him to do what he wanted, to sink her into his darkness and take her for himself.

His voice seemed to come to her from afar, his fingers deep inside her hitting again and again the sweet spot between her throbbing muscles making her lose touch with reality, writhing beneath him in ecstasy.

"– being with me, you won't know freedom – I'm not in a position to choose between that and your safety – if that's what you want, I'll let you leave – but make love to me one last time –" He breathed out and she felt tears under her eyelids, her throat squeezed so tight she had trouble taking a deep breath.

If that's what you want, I'll let you leave.

I don't want leave, she thought.

I just want to be alone.

I want to be special to you, the only one in the world.

Beloved.

"– my sweet baby girl – my little sunshine –" He whispered, taking her for himself, the voracious, desperate stabs of his hips thrusting deep into her slick, hot opening, filling her with his seed with the loud click of her moisture, their breaths heavy and ragged, their embrace tight, full of desire to be reunited again.

His tears joined hers as he pressed his face to her cheek, his broad, familiar hand stroking her head, his breath raspy, surrounding her ear with warmth.

"– my grandfather – what he told me –" He whispered, and she froze, opening her eyes suddenly. "– he said that you wouldn't be able to bear this life, just like my grandmother – that you would commit suicide too – and I don't want to live in a world where you won't be there, even if you are no longer by my side –"

She hugged him tighter, feeling that she suddenly understood what had happened.

Why he had been so angry, why he had looked at her that way, why he had spoken to her that way.

He was terrified as much as she was.

This realisation, the fact that she wasn't the only one living in fear was both depressing and liberating for her, the weight of his words and the emptiness she felt inside her seemed to pull her lower and lower.

When she woke, the sun was just rising – his arms were embracing her from behind, her hand on his palm, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She knew that something inside her had snapped, that if she just stayed and claimed that nothing had happened, their whole lives would start to crumble around them, and he would feel it.

She stood up quietly and looked at him, putting her hand in the pocket of his trousers. She swallowed hard when she felt the keys to the house by the sea underneath them and took them out quietly, praying he wouldn't wake up.

She didn't know how she would then explain to him what she wanted to do and what it meant to them.

She pulled her hoodie over her head and, dressed only in his sweatshirt, shorts and trainers, with her small backpack in which she had only her keys, wallet, phone and charger, she quietly left the house and closed the door behind her, seeing the look of concern of Vhagar standing in the corridor, not understanding why she had not taken her with her.

Sitting on the bus, she wondered what he would feel when he woke up.

Disappointment?

Anger?

Helplessness?

What she felt every time he left?

She wondered if she should leave him any kind of message, but as much as she wanted to, she wouldn't know what she should write him on it. She felt that she was stuck, unable to either move backwards or forwards.

She knew she loved him and she knew she was miserable.

When she arrived, the sky was cloudy, as if the world around her reflected her state of mind. She only had time to step inside the large, empty house and felt her phone vibrate.

She knew he was awake.

Was he angry?

Desperate?

She unlocked the screen with a trembling hand and swallowed hard to see couple unanswered calls and one message from him.

She closed her eyes, understanding what he was asking, feeling that part of her wanted to do this for him, to reassure him him that she was okay, but she knew how it would end.

He would write another message, then another and another, and she would give in to him and let him come.

She needed to clear her mind, she needed the solitude she had condemned herself to, not forced into.

When she walked into his old room she put her small backpack on the floor and lay down on his bed, looking towards the window. As she looked around she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that when she was a child it felt like there was so much space, but now she felt it was cramped.

She reached her hand to the shelf standing next to his bed and smiled, taking from it one of the small volumes telling the adventures of the Mighty Vhagar. She flipped through page after page of tales of the Prince and his beloved Rhaenys travelling across distant lands on their dragons, feeling tears of emotion and melancholy pool under her eyelids, clutching her throat.

The Prince, though fearless and relentless, feared, watching the other powerful dragon riders for his beloved's life; her dragoness, Larax, was beautiful, her scales silvery blue, glistening in the sunlight, her figure slender and light, sailing beside him across the sky. However, what made Larax different from Vhagar was size – Vhagar was gigantic like a stone fortress, yet Larax was small and delicate. And so, although his Rhaenys deeply desired to visit the neighbouring Kingdom, he never agreed, knowing that it was a barbaric people, riding dragons that were shrill and terrifying, which he himself feared, though he did not speak of it. He, as a Prince, would travel to this dark land with his father the King, thus keeping the peace, and she would cry when he left her. "Weep not, my dearest," he said, "my heart remains with you."

She closed her eyes, feeling the heavy tears one by one run down her cheeks straight onto the sheets of paper, onto the pages filled with beautiful illustrations of dragons and their riders, stories they had read with hot cheeks all evenings.

She spent the day walking on the beach – the squeals of the seagulls around her and the hum of the sea simultaneously calmed her and filled her with sadness. She put her arms around herself, feeling the coolness of the wind seep through her body, involuntarily smelling his scent as soon as she touched the fabric of his sweatshirt.

It was as if a part of him was still with her.

She looked at the bracelet she had received from him, an expression of his love, so childish, naive.

Innocent.

And yet so dark at the same time.

And then the night came.

Even though she slept in his bed, under his duvet, even though she could smell him, she was afraid: she was not afraid of monsters now, however, but of what was going on inside her head.

Where was she supposed to go back to?

Who was she supposed to be?

What was she supposed to do?

She felt that a sense of meaning had slipped through her fingers: she realised that without her mother, her father, her uncle, her professor, she was nothing.

What kind of person was she really?

What were her values?

What did she want?

For eight years she had only dreamed of being with him again, but she had never thought about what that would look like.

What she would have to sacrifice.

She didn't want to betray him, abandon him – never – but she was terrified of living in constant fear of losing him again.

Of hearing the news that someone had shot him in the head, just as he had once done to Larys.

The next day she woke up even more tired than when she fell asleep: she had nightmares all night.

She dreamt of a monster coming out of the wardrobe, dark, tall and long, who just stood over her and watched her, and she couldn't say anything or scream.

She realised that this was the personification of what she feared most.

The inability to react, to make a move.

The cage.

The fact that she had received another message from him and how he was suffering did not help her.

She didn't know what she was supposed to answer him.

"I'm alive"?

Wouldn't he then feel that she no longer loved him? That she had only written him off so that he would give her a break?

She didn't want that.

She didn't want him to suffer.

Sitting on the beach for hours, gazing at the horizon, she thought of a way out of the deadlock she was in, something that might make her regain control of her life, the feeling that she was co-determining what was happening to her.

But there was a void in her mind, and that scared her the most.

That there was no path in her life in which she could be truly happy.

That she was doomed to wither like a flower, to die while she was alive.

Part of her wanted to give up, to call Daemon and tell him to take her home: however, what kind of life would await her there?

Jace would never forgive her. They would all pretend that nothing had happened, but they would certainly be disgusted with her in reality. After all, she'd fucked her own uncle, run off with him even though he'd hurt her, fooled her, humiliated her.

It was hard for her to understand how one man could combine so many contradictions: her uncle. It seemed to her, although she recognised that this could only have been the result of her vanity, that in her presence he was revealing a part of himself from the past that he had locked away. He was rediscovering a gentle, tender touch, a soft tone of voice, a calm gaze, a lightness in breathing, as if to remind himself that what his men had seen was only a mask.

But was that really the case?

Or was she merely telling herself this to make herself feel better, to look at his stone-cold face when he spoke to them without feeling terror?

That he wasn't pretending at the time.

That he was the other part of himself then.

A monster from the wardrobe.

Could she love someone who soothed and terrified her at the same time?

Or did he need her to subdue that side of himself, to save himself from falling?

In the end, she knew that he himself was afraid of the dark.

She thought sadly, looking at her hands, that they were both just as hopelessly lost, standing on the margins, unable to find a place or purpose for themselves, feeling an eternal, never-ending shame since they were little children.

That night a storm broke loose: lightning struck close to home, thunder shook the ground, loud and dangerous, making her curl up in bed in fear.

And then she heard it: the creaking of the floor.

She clamped her hands on the sheets, swallowing hard and listened with her heart beating in panic, recognising that the sound was coming from the floor below the room.

She drew in the air loudly when she heard it again, this time more clearly, as if someone was coming up the stairs: she picked up her backpack, slid to the floor and hid under the bed, exactly as she had done when she was a small child.

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears of terror one by one run down her face, clenching her lips to make sure no sound came out, thinking it was just a bad dream, nothing more.

And then someone opened the door.

She stared ahead with big eyes, feeling her heart in her throat, begging in her mind that she could just melt into the floor, disappear, dissolve into the air, the footsteps beside her getting louder and clearer, making her realise it wasn't a nightmare.

And then a silhouette knelt beside the bed and she recognised his face.

He was looking at her exactly as he had when he first found her: his gaze expressed shock and compassion, his brow arched in pain, as if he himself wanted to cry.

"– Rhaenys – oh, baby –" He mumbled with a breaking voice, reaching out to her, and she crawled to him quickly, bursting out crying as soon as he enclosed her in the embrace of his familiar, safe arms.

"– I'm sorry –" She cried out, whooping with tears, feeling that her whole body was trembling from fear, sadness, disappointment, the suffering caused by their separation. "– I'm sorry – I didn't know what to do –"

He hushed her, kissing the top of her head again and again, his hands stroking tenderly through her hair and down her back, cuddling her into him, his wonderful scent filling her nostrils giving her relief.

"– no – it's okay – I found you, little one – you're safe now –" He whispered, and she nodded quickly, tightening her hands on his leather jacket.

She felt him take her in his arms and lift himself up, exactly as he had done then, laying down on the bed with her. He pulled off his shoes and jacket before his shaking hand touched her cheek again, as gently and slowly as if she were made of glass.

He gave her one tender, warm look full of relief before his warm, full lips pressed against hers in the sweetest, gentlest kiss she had ever experienced in her life.

He gasped when her fingers ran over his neck, when her body pressed against his, when her lips parted in front of his, trailing over their fleshy structure, just teasing them. She heard his shuddering sigh, felt his hand sink into her hair, combing through it with tentative, affectionate strokes full of hope, the tips of their tongues touched and licked, making her shudder.

There was something perverted and obscene in those kisses alone, in the way their lips, swollen with desire, melted together again and again with the quiet clicks of their saliva as all she could hear around them was the tapping of raindrops against the window.

She thought that only in his arms she was not afraid.

Only in his arms did it all make sense.

The affection, the suffering, the sacrifice, the pain, the joy, the sadness.

It all came down to his person.

"– I love you –" She whispered into his mouth and heard him sigh, his hands clenched tightly on her body, craving those words like nothing else. "– that's all I know –"

His tongue slid deep between her teeth, coming out to meet hers, as if he couldn't take any more of the feeling that was tearing their hearts apart, his hands pulled her closer, allowing her to feel the hard, throbbing bulge in his trousers on her stomach.

She moaned involuntarily into his throat, feeling her nipples harden with sweet desire, the space between her thighs all swollen, producing moisture in response to his treatments.

They said nothing more to each other – his hands slid under the fabric of her hoodie, roaming lazily over the bare, smooth skin of her back, her waist, her thighs. He wasn't in a hurry; she felt that after this sudden, terrifying, shocking separation he wanted to enjoy this moment, the feel of her body under his fingers, everything she was and had become to him.

He pulled away from her to look at her, his free hand stroking her jaw – his thumb ran over the line of her cheekbone as his gaze traveled all over her face, a hot, tender feeling in his healthy eye from which her heart fluttered in her chest. She clenched her thighs together, feeling the tension, just looking at his parted lips, hearing his broken, accelerated breathing, feeling his manhood pushing again and again against her lower abdomen.

When his fingers rubbed against the material of her panties she merely nodded, and he took a breath, pressing his thirsty, moist lips against hers again, pulling them off her thighs with a few sure tugs. He didn't unzip his trousers, however – instead, his fingers sunk tentatively between her thighs into her warm folds, drawing a surprised, girlish moan from her throat.

"– shhh – shhh, baby, it's okay –" He murmured into her mouth, sighing with delight as her cunt leaked under his hand, hot and eager, the tips of his fingers wandering lazily around her swollen, sensitive clit made her roll her hips, needing more, harder.

"– please –" She mumbled, throwing her arms around his neck, allowing herself to drift off completely into the pleasure his painfully slow, sure touch was giving her, his movements deliberately gentle, not giving her what she needed.

The corner of his mouth twitched in satisfaction when he noticed something in the expression on her face that told him she would give herself to him completely, his free hand tightening on her hair.

"– I'd rather use my mouth down there – but I want to look into your eyes when you come –" He whispered in a way from which she felt a drop of cold sweat run down along her spine, her lips parted involuntarily in a pathetic moan as the tips of his fingers dug firmly into her silky folds at last.

There was something unsettling and frightening about his dark, defiant gaze, the way it was fixed confidently in her eyes, not allowing her to turn or move away, just to simply take what he was giving her. Her fingers tightened on his black T-shirt as he finally sped up, with each circle around her clit rubbing her throbbing opening, weeping in desire, begging for his attention.

She closed her eyes and gasped as she felt the tips of his two fingers push against her slit, stretching her swollen pussy on their thickness, receiving her quiet cries of desire in return. His hand tilted her head back, his breath heavy and hot on the skin of her face.

"– no – look at me –" He breathed out, his gaze dark and hot with desire, his fingers hitting her sweet spot again and again making her walls begin to clench around their length in convulsions.

"– Aemond –" She cried out and his mouth was immediately on hers, devouring her with greedy, loud, sticky kisses full of his tongue and panting, his fingers pounding into her in a relentless, fierce rhythm making her feel a wonderful tingling in her lower abdomen, in her lips, in her nipples, her pussy beginning to clamp down on them, close to fulfilment.

She squealed and mewled, feeling the tears of relief one by one run down her cheeks as she suddenly reached her peak, her hazy gaze barely able to see his face, his black eye staring at her as if he was seeing a woman orgasm for the first time, wide open in delight and satisfaction.

She felt him slide his fingers gently out of her hot, throbbing insides, hearing the sound of his belt and zipper being undone a moment later, letting the fingers of his hand stretch her slit to the sides, allowing his full, fat cock to slide easily into her without any resistance.

He groaned in relief when he was finally inside her, positioning himself so that the movements of his hips were enough to sink him again and again between her hot walls, leaking from her fulfilment, letting his hands embrace her and cuddle her into him.

He panted into her ear, focused only on himself and his sensations, with lazy, slow thrusts opening her again and again on his swollen length, teasing again her spongy spot inside her, now oversensitive and delicate.

His touch was surprisingly tender, light, devoid of aggression; it made her feel relaxed, herself taking pleasure in feeling him deep inside her, in the way his face sank into the hollow of her neck, his lips brushing her skin encouragingly.

"– oh baby – mmm – my little girl – ah, God, yes –" He gasped, speeding up, chasing his fulfilment without thinking about how long he should last to feel masculine enough, experienced enough, confident enough.

Something about knowing that with her he wasn't worrying about such things, that he was just being, reaching for what he really wanted with a few sloppy, messy thrusts reaching his peak with a sigh of delight, made her simply close her eyes, focusing on how hard he was pulsing inside her, filling her with his release.

They lay snuggled into each other, panting quietly, not saying anything or moving, just lingering in that most natural state for them, where their bodies were entwined together to form one person.

"I know how to fix this, baby. Do you trust me?" He asked in a whisper, and she opened her eyes and blinked, surprised to feel her heart hit harder in her chest.

"What do you mean?" She asked just as quietly, trailing her fingers down his back, pressing her face into his neck, smelling of his aftershave and cigarettes. He swallowed hard, as if gathering his courage, and kissed her forehead.

"I will give you back the premises that belonged to your father."

She froze, not understanding for a moment what he meant, and looked at him, trying to make out anything on his face.

"What?"

"Before Larys took over their entire family business, your father had three establishments: Harrenhal Club, Twins Club and Eagle's Nest Hotel. He got to the point, wanting to get as far away from drug smuggling as possible, that the people working there were reluctant to go back to their old ways. Larys forced them to do so, but most of the best workers fled to my grandfather or Daemon. I didn't know for a long time what to do with these places, but now I think I should just pass them on to you. That will make you able to take part in some of our conversations as an associate, like Baratheon does, for example. I will assign you some of my men to protect you. Some of them are tired and want peace and quiet for themselves and their families. Your presence, the fact that you are with me and at the same time you are Daemon's daughter gives us the assurance that you will not be attacked from any side."

She listened to him in disbelief, thinking, touched, that he was serious.

He wanted to give her some of his power, some of what her father had worked for, so that she would feel that she was not completely dependent on him.

She would be part of his world, not delving into the darkest side of it.

"What about Jace? Luke? He was their father too." She mumbled, thinking that would surely make them hate her even more.

She heard her uncle grin.

"I don't give a shit about them."

She swallowed hard, looking him straight in the eye, seeing the certainty in his gaze that made her feel hot.

"I won't have to store your drugs or sell them?" She muttered, and he shook his head.

"No. You'll just be giving us cover for our meetings from time to time. Nothing illegal that would burden you." He whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her expectantly like a child waiting for praise.

"You'll really do it?" She asked, and he nodded, licking his lower lip.

"Yes. Yes, if you come home with me. We'll go to the notary tomorrow, make it official." He said, excited that she hadn't rejected his idea.

What he was saying simultaneously pleased and horrified her.

"After all, none of them will want to listen to me. They won't respect me. I'm just a little girl, what do I know about their tough world?" She asked, shrugging her shoulders, realising that it all only sounded simple.

"I'll help you. Just like you helped me with my studies. I will teach you everything. They'll respect you, first for the sake of me and your two fathers, and then for the sake of you when they realise you'll protect them and not drag them into this shit." He said looking her straight in the eyes, something in his certainty, the warmth that emanated from his voice made her eyes glaze over with tears.

"Shall we try?" He mumbled, his haze full of hope.

She nodded her head and hugged him, his arms closing her instantly in a tight embrace.

"I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I promise." He whispered.

And she believed him.

254 notes · View notes

demonsword586 · 8 months ago

Text

Gehenna pp headcanons! (Just nobles)

(A little warning. This gets explicit. I was trying to make it goofy but I think I might have gone a bit....off. Still I hope you enjoy it. Mind you,I never saw a pp before,only an imaginary one of my friend and they still didn't let me poke it.)

Sitri

- Okay let's start off with the size...just from what I seen of him,I think he's on the bigger side. Definetlly bigger than Satan and his king is still pissed about that from time to time.

- 20-21 cm I think

-Now he is a gentleman. He was raised in hell called Hades. Which means he was probably taught of proper higene. In other words,this man's lower region is as smooth as a baby.

-Smells like tea. He drank so much tea,his piss now smells good and his cum tastes like black tea.

-Now for the shape and color. I think his tip is on a brighter side of pink. It's suprisingly slim and elegant compared to someone like Satan who's penis looks like a meat claymore.

-Anyway good penis on a good man. Refreshing as well if you need a man with flavoured cum.

Zagan

- Hmm....Now for Zagan,I think he's a grower.

-His bulge is pretty small but if we think on how much he exercises,there's no way he isn't training his penis as well.

-Okay hear me out. He has a little workout routine for his pp. He flexes up his muscles and makes it go up and down,probably does a helicopter to warm it up.

-And it actually works! His pp has grown in lenght and girth from his training and now he can make it hard on command.

-He does smell a bit funny though. He works out and while yes,you can hide the scent of sweat on most of your body,this is one part where he can'r mask the scent because it is simply too strong.

-My point? His pp smells...of manliness!

-He tries to take care of his pubes but would prefer to keep a small white bush above the shaft. You can't get him to shave it off tho. The bush stays.

-Also I think most of his cock is the color of his skin except his tip which is just one shade lighter.

-His seed tastes like protein tho.

Paimon

- Tucks it. I can't explain why but he tucks it. This bulge? Those are his balls.

-The actual size of it is around 13 cm. A little small for a devil but still packs a punch.

-He wears very cute underwear. He knows no one will see it but it just feels nice to know he has something cute on. Wears comfier undies when he's home and done for the day.

-Likes to put glitter on it. He just thought it would be a funny little thing if he putted some of that super fine and sticky glitter on the shaft....and now he puts on a little fasion show for the other nobles every once in awhile.

-It's actually good tho. He uses those little brushes and stencils. He once even did it for Leraye who then ran around pantless to show everyone how talented Paimon is at dick decoration.

-Sometimes when he thinks he doesn't smell good,he might put some parfume on it. Don't be suprised when his pp smells like flowers or vanilla.

-Very well groomed. No hair on the balls or around the penis. The only thing that he does have...is a little heart shaped bush slightly above his pp.

-The penis itself is on a little more girthy side and when hard it leans slightly to the right. Pretty pale with a pale pink tip.

Leraye

- flat

- Anyway Leraye I think is also a grower. It may not look impressive flaccid wirh only 12 cm but when it gets HARD..oh boy. It goes from a puppy to a wolf. This thing is easily 21 cm once you wake it up.

- The shape is on a leaner side. Being slender but also long. He does hower go thicker around the base. But only at the base,like a slight knot.

- He once walked in on Zagan when he was warming up his pp with the helicopter move and then very euthusiasticlly asked Zagan to teach him.

-Next time you two were about to have a passionate night he wanted to show you a trick. Wipes it out and then swings his pp around like a disco ball while saying 'Look what I can do!😃' It ended up being a little joke between the two of you.

-Suprisingly doesn't have a headless teddy anywhere near his cock. If you ask him,maybe just our of curiousity,why he doesn't have a teddy there like on his horn he will look at you with dread. That would be just rude of him to dirty the dead body of a plushie by impaling it on his pp. He can't bring himself to go as low as Glasyal.

- He does have a bit of pubic hair. A small, dishaved,blond bush . Very pretty and suits him. Please let him keep it.

-His cock is as milky as him. A very pretty color with a flush tip.

Belial

- Normal. Questionably normal lenght. It's not too big and not too small. Just...normal. maybe falls a cm or two from perfect.

-It's also on a little skinnier side. Nice and thin.

-Still size isn't everything. It's important how he uses it....and unfortunatelly for you,he's good!

-He manages to fill in for the lack of impressivness with his experience.

-He is quite strong so with him you're able to try some more adventurous positions like the bicycle or the ballet dancer.

-Gets easily moist. His precum is very watery so his tip looks like it's always glistening.

-Very well groomed. Almost no hair down there except for a thin strip. Also the carpet maches the drapes,his pubes have red ends.

- He also has 2 frenum piercings. Astaroth recommended him to get them,saying " You will corrupt many mortals with these. "

-The dick itself is pretty pale with a darker shade of pink at the tip.

Astaroth

- OH HOLY MARY

- *cough* Sorry *cough* thighs...

-Anyway! Let's go from the size down....BIG. The snake on his bory isn't the only snake he has.

- 26 cm

- You know how snakes hide their pps in what looks like a slit? Yea Astaroth can do that.

-Normally he keeps it inside of himself,but when he gets shy or horny,it pops out and his pants suddenly look a little heavier. There was a time when Sitri didn't know about his anathomy and just saw him suddenly get a bulge. He asked him if he just shat himself.

- Once out and hard,his cock naturally curves upwards. It's just slightly thicker than a normal one but with how long it is,that may be for the best.

- He has a dydoe piercing on the head of it. He considered going for more but decided not to after how intense it felt. He does always wonder how it would feel like if his piercings got stuck inside of you. How romantic~ Two lovers tied together as one for eternity~ (Thankfully it never happens. He is nice enough to take them off if you don't like the feel of them)

- He likes to keep himself well groomed. I mean very well groomed. He waxes off everything and then puts extra virgin olive oil on top. He also puts some on his shaft from time to time to make it a bit more smooth and squishy.

#whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb leraye #whb belial #whb astaroth #whb sitri #whb paimon #whb zagan #I wrote half of this on the toilet with no electricety #fear writting

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pointlesschairjokes · 3 months ago

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A Needlessly In depth Analysis of the Hypnos Subplot thus far

So, the new update is out and my sleepy boy has gotten his own story moment. I have... concerns. Going purely off of dialog I'm worried the subplot is going to simply be comic relief. The joke set-up has been obvious. Mel thinks Hypnos is wise and powerful, everyone else is being sarcastic because they know he's a lazy goof. Hypnos wakes up, Mel's image of him is shattered, cue laughter. On the one hand, I would personally find that resolution disappointing because I'd like to see more done with his character, but on the other, I hold out hope because a purely comedic subplot just wouldn't make sense. I've seen comments here and there saying Hypnos must just be conked out cause Hades and Nyx aren't there to scold him, and if this were to be pure comedy that'd probably be the case. But, if there is one thing Hades 1 makes clear, even if you interpret Hypos' character in the shallowest possible way, he cares very deeply for those he loves. When he drops his cheerful tone to ask Than to spend more time with him, it is distinct, and he nearly tears up calling Zag his best friend. I simply do not buy that he would choose to sleep for years when it means being separated from his friends and family. But then again, the first games treatment of him was just a bit odd. The only time him being the god of sleep is relevant is a single line of flashback narration where we learn he's able to put the entire house, including Hades, to sleep. For the rest of the game no character acknowledges that it makes sense for the god of sleep to be sleepy, and his keepsake, the coin purse, has nothing to do with his aspect or his character. I really hope the subplot goes in a direction of addressing that disconnect. So as to what we actually have so far: the dream scene. A lot of what we see is fairly easy to interpret, Than is there resting close to Hypnos, Hypnos is surrounded by massive stacks of work with an angry Hades looming in the background. Now this is a bit interesting, as in the first game Hypnos appears oblivious to Hades anger in his interactions with him. Perhaps this is evidence that some of that cheeriness is a defense mechanism, its hard to say, but its clear that Hypnos feels overworked. I feel its also important that Mel remarks how unusual it is that he is still asleep inside the dream. Given that, and given that there's a craftable item involved, I suspect that the scenery of the dream is going to be different each time Mel uses the dream vapors. There may even be a puzzle involving the character cutouts. As for why Hypnos is asleep, its still unclear. Could it be exhaustion due to overwork? Possibly, although it wouldn't be the most satisfying answer. I'm actually a bit reluctant to say its Chronos' doing. None of his magic seems to operate in a way that would make sense in Hypnos' case. I'll throw out one wild theory though, that its actually the Fates who have put him to sleep. We know from the prophecy list that Mel is going to locate them at some point in the story, and thus far its completely unclear how. If she can communicate with them in dreams however... What could be a better ace in the hole than a god who not only is underestimated by everyone, but who's also in an 'eternal' slumber?

#hades hypnos #hypnos hades #hades game #hades 2

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vandal-flower · 1 year ago

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Light and Death

Requested.

Yandere!Hades x Reader

Warnings: Manipulation, kidnapping, feelings of guilt, betrayal.

Notes: I was casually letting this just mold in my drafts. I took reference on Hades 'n Persephone, to make the story 🤌.

"(Name), have I ever told you about how much I loved you?", asked Hades, the infamous King of the Underworld.

"No, but there is no need in telling me that my king. I already know you love me.", you answered, with a flustered look on your face.

"But I would love to tell you. To tell you how I would do anything for you, and anything to have you for myself."

"Anything to have me?"

"Anything my beloved."

That was a conversation you had a few months back with Hades. You often look back on it, and wonder if he was lying. His brother, Zeus was infamous for his various affairs. And in some cases, Poseidon as well. But no one is bold enough to speak about it - in fear of being skewered to death. And even Apollo had a few cases of these said affairs.

To your mother, that was more than enough evidence that the gods in the Greek Pantheon were absolutely scum. They only act solely on their desires and nothing else.

But Hades is different. Hades was different in your eyes.

Sure, he was terrifying at first, but he's kind, caring, loving, and...

Well, you could go on about how he great he is.

According to him, many maidens wished to have his hand but were fearful since he rules the Underworld. Not the beautiful seas, or the bright sky like his brothers. Aphrodite suggested that she could match him up with someone, but he kindly declined the offer.

He said he wanted to find his one true love, unlike the other gods who just pick up a 'suitable' partner for the moment and call it a day.

What he said months ago was running through your mind. He would do anything for you, he would do absolutely anything to have you. It made your heart flutter.

Those were the thoughts you had those few months ago.

You were currently lying in bed - in a bed that wasn't yours. Beside you was the King of the Underworld himself. Hades.

His arms were wrapped around you tightly, but gave enough space to let you breathe. But also that ensured you couldn't get yourself out of his grasp.

He looks so majestical when sleeping, you note to yourself. It reminds you of the time he had kidnapped you, taking you for himself. He looked just as beautiful, if not more beautiful. It's hard to admit it, but it's the truth. You found him beautiful even when he committed such act.

You recall how he took your trust and used it against you. He used it to lock you in the Underworld with him. Those secret meetings with him, those precious moments filled your stomach with guilt.

You went behind your mother's back just to see him. She must be worried sick. Devastated. You feel like a hypocrite. Hades used your trust, and you used your mother's trust.

You miss her. Her smile, her laugh - even her torturous long lectures. You were able to see her.

Before you even realize, tears have already fallen out of your eyes. The droplets stain the bed beneath you and some drop onto Hades' arm, causing him to wake up.

He sits up and tries to comfort you, wiping your tears and whispering sweet words in your ears. But it's all nothing to you.

"I want to go home.", you mutter, hoping that he would listen to your pleas. Hoping he still has a heart after what he has done to you.

He pauses for a moment, as if contemplating if he should fulfill your request, wondering if he would get something in return. "My beloved, home is where the heart is. You belong in my heart, so it's only right for you to live with me."

"But, I want to see my mother. She's worried about me. She has to know where I am, she-"

Hades interrupts by placing his finger on your lips, silencing you.

"Your mother needs, time to process the situation at hand before you can go see her, my dear. So please, dry your tears and go to sleep."

"What situation?", you ask, confused at his words.

"I'll tell you in the morning.", he answers.

"But, there isn't any light in the Underworld, just darkness and death.", you urge.

"Exactly, I'll tell you when the time comes."

Ngl, there is not bad picture of Hades. Every one is just beautiful.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #ror hades #snv hades #yandere record of ragnarok #yandere shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror yandere hades #snv yandere hades #vandal-flower

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ladybirdswritings · 1 year ago

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Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel O’Hara was never known to be a man wanting. He was beyond content with the power surging through him upon his multiversal throne. That is until he lays his hungry eyes upon you. Now, he will do whatever it takes just for the taste of you… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

Notes: I couldn’t stop myself from this hades and persephone-esque fic so I hope you enjoy!! SW&P is far lighter if you desire that <3

next chap

one

Morning is a sweet greeting to you, warm and incandescent to shine it’s rays upon soft skin. As it always is. Though you find it to be dreary on days like this, as it is the same as the day prior, and the day prior to that day. As if it is not sparkling gold but shadowing gray.

All the same repetitive waltz for you.

Yet to your unknowing mind, much would change within the quick hour. Change not in the way of little things but rather in the way that would make your toes curl and your eager hands grab your tresses so you might not trip upon them on your dash toward the tallest hills.

You would have run had you known what was to come.

Yet you didn’t; and so? Your morning was quite a bore.

Similar to a zombie are your sunken cheeks and coffee kissed eyes decorated with awful bags. Your toothbrush is made of oak as is your boar-bristled comb. You tend to your prettying before slipping away from the hustle and bustle of a lively home. Four sisters and two brothers you sport, and an overbearing woman you dare to call your mother.

You made routine of this. Sneaking away with the latest print picked up from the small shop next to the apothecary in town. Out the oak wood door and past the burnt toast and meat to cuddle yourself comfortably against your favored weeping willow by the bend.

Your only company is the ducklings these days, though you don’t mind them much. They are mostly quiet beyond the occasional quack.

Serenity became you as you lay there in the remnants of springtime’s shadow, willfully sprouted in peonies and lilac blossoms.

Your print is a work of Austen, an old and worn thing but one you’d found comfort in recently. It would be your fourth time revisiting.

Would… however.

“Oh heavens sakes! You must enjoy making your mother walk upon tousled soil, girl! Have you got half a mind!? I don’t presume so otherwise you’d avoid any possibility of me losing a leg!”

A whine like that of a carnaged cat rings out from behind the bend. In the grassy plains your mother struggles her way toward you. You stand to your feet in swift motion, but your wandering eye finds curiosity in an unfamiliar bloom. Its colors an odd pairing of red and blue unfurled toward the sun.

What an odd thing, you think.

The huffing and puffing snaps your attention center, and you nearly grumble in complaint as you hurry toward your mother.

“Mama I was just—”

“Oh save it. I see you slip out each morning, I know full well your disdain for the company of your own family… but I didn’t come here to admonish you, sweet girl. Quite the opposite in fact. I am here to ask a favor of you. It seems the cold air has made our chickens most unwilling to provide us with eggs. Won’t you go in town and gather some?”

Like the rainfall’s mist caught by breath of wind, your hopes and plans of reading in the bend till dawn have dissipated. Pursing your lips, you nod— not wanting to administer a guaranteed headache at wake of your protest.

In to town you’ll venture.

✧*̥˚ … *̥˚✧

The cobblestone is cracked underneath your boot, as it is dampened by springtime’s departured mist. You like the clicking sound, though it is most lonesome at this ungodly hour.

The house cannot be run well with lack of your aid. Father left long ago and mother is just a dreadful housewife. The doctor blames her dissonance on the ailments within her mind’s confines though— she swears herself always to be whole and well.

Regardless, for the sake of your sisters— you help. Besides this, you owe it to her.

Your basket is made of weaved wicker and adorned with crimson cloth, at the end of the cobble is where life shines proud. A more lively gathering of townsfolk in search of early morning eggs to enjoy with their breakfast.

A single carriage, outdated as the things are, surges forward in an unstable command by a young man. He cannot be past twenty three, and his face is speckled with pale freckles. His hair is a burnt orange rasp.

The stallions are dark as midnight, sweat being huffed like chimney smoke from their nostrils. Dear god, the way he commands them is certain to ensure an accident.

You tuck the thought away in to the back of your mind to be focused upon your task. You’ll need no more than a dozen or perhaps three what with the vacuum cleaner your eldest brother refers to as his mouth.

Babblebrooke, it is where you’ve lived most your orphaned life. Surely some places have technology of picture books and magazines you skim through when you are awarded the rare chance but— you find yourself content with a place so simple.

You cannot imagine a life of loudness, no quiet space to tuck away and read. It’s a frightening thought.

The stand is nearby, only a few more passing steps and you’ll reach it. Your eyes are locked on the fresh berries, but you know full well you won’t have enough for them.

A bark startles you out of your trance, one excited and pointed. You jump at the sound and turn your head to find a cocker spaniel hound circling round and round to chase its own tail. You giggle at the sight, and its chestnut ears raise in alarm at the vibration.

Oh, it’s noticed you.

The little thing hobbles over excitedly, and you cannot help but bend on your knee to brush back its silken locks.

Beyond a canvas collar of pale pink lays a heart, engraved in molten silver the title: “Lyla.”

So she belongs to someone. Such a kind thing, they are to be a lucky companion indeed.

You smooth back the hair from her excited eyes before lifting to your feet again and continuing forward. She begins to follow you, but a movement in the alleyway shadows is a matter she finds far more pressing for her attention.

“Lyla…” you test in a whisper as you make your way behind a man hunched and gray— awaiting his eggs for breakfast.

Time seems agonizing and the line moves awfully slow, you peek behind the elder man to find annoyance laced in the eyes of the townsfolk. Blaire has taken a liking to the farm boy— it seems she’s busying herself with conversing nonsense with his mother rather than picking her fresh fruits for tart pastries.

You sigh, checking the time on your cracked, golden watch with impatience brewing at the soles of your boots. You sway on them, shifting your weight forward and back. No use just staring ahead.

Though it is quite loud, it doesn’t stop you from reaching in to your tote for “Jane Eyre.”

You find your favorite part, their first midnight meeting in the hallway. How romantic it is, you only wish that to be a possibility for you one day. You forbid yourself from joining the season of course but somewhere tucked away inside— you wonder how marvelous it would be for a broody and handsome thing to appear upon your doorstep with a bouquet the size of France.

You grin at the thought. Though it is swiftly interrupted by the quick patter of familiar paws.

“Woah! Easy!”

Your head snaps up at the gasps of those around you, and you are most horrified to see that the horses have reached the steep bend mere steps away. The ginger fool, they halt in warning and he kicks at them— slapping them with a russet pole. They comply, and the carriage loses control.

It creaks, hurling forward and disconnecting from its rusted shell. Tumbling at godspeed down the cobble and straight for little Lyla who lays mindlessly and happily on her back now.

Panic surges, and your eyes find worry in everyone’s features and yet no motive to act alongside it. Such cowardly men, allowing the poor thing to succumb to the bite of freak nature and cruel fate.

You won’t allow it. Though you feel frozen, the sharp and desperate shout of “Lyla!” from a phantom voice is enough to snap you back into the most horrible moment present.

“Christ!” You breathe, tossing Jane Eyre to the sapphire sky before surging forward. The carriage stalls on a pebble for a quick moment and it’s enough time for you to beat it by a mere step. You scoop the silly thing into your arms and as the wheel just grazes your skin— it is you now that is saved from immediate death.

A warm hand tugs at your wrist and you’re certain the brick wall has grown awfully large palms and fingers; for what you slam up against is hard and unpleasant.

You grunt, Lyla yelping in surprise where she is tucked up tightly against your chest.

Whistles and claps overtake the coward crowd and you sway upon your own boots as the wind itself makes you unsteady with its light graze. Firm palms steel you, grasping your shoulders tight to keep you together and well.

Your eyes venture on an upward path to find two crimson pupils imploring your features as if they are etched in stone and stored away in a beloved museum somewhere in Rome.

Brows pinched and quite bushy, eyes cold but curious, his reddened orbs search your face for what feels like a millennium. Fascinated.

Awed.

You blink, and the cry of the sweet creature in your arms breaks the trance you were entangled in. Lyla leaps from your arms and onto the cobble path— and you only huff and reach a weak arm toward her before the exhaustion of a skipped meal and your adrenaline fueled actions bring you to sit on the cobble ground.

He kneels beside you, the stranger. Yet you cannot find yourself mustering enough energy to truly examine his face. Just his eyes, rare things they are.

“She’ll be alright.” He whispers, hands still pleasantly upon your shoulders as if he fears you’ll topple over and shatter once he parts.

When you do lift your gaze however, stricken curious by the sickly silken sound of his voice, he’s gone.

“Thank y-”

The word croaks in your throat, and you can only wonder how it was possible… how quickly the phantom left you upon the cobble. The farm boy rushes over soon, much to the demise of poor Blaire. She stares on at the carriage and ginger man as if she wishes it was her nearly trampled.

He hands you fresh water and berries, and you wave his concern away and the crowd’s curiosity with a weak hand.

Your mind is only glued upon one thing.

The phantom.

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019 @cybersry

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