#never forget the dead: Hades
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allxthingsxglxtter · 1 year ago
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@totouchthcstars
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.。.:*☆ “Mate, you are really in a bad mood tonight, aren’t you?” Jack chuckled dryly as he listened to the other. Frankly, he was only understanding half of it, but, it still seemed to be pretty amusing. At least for the moment. Not to mention, it had sparked his interest. Even if this guy maybe would not tell him any more details, jack decided he still had to try it, anyway. “Also, to answer your question, I simply got lost and needed a little help to find the way, but - now I more would like to ask about those gods and wife you talked about? And why they all seem to put you into such a shitty mood?”
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"I'm in a fairly bad mood most days at this point. So tonight isn't special." Hades responded just as dryly, honestly doing what he could not to be a complete asshole most of the time. But he was pretty much frustrated and exhausted at all times, and it sometimes was taken out on the strangers who spoke to him.
"I am Hades, god of the Underworld, and pretty much anyone who has an argument with my siblings tends to just, shout if at me. I'm not in the mood for the confrontation on a regular day, and the mood I'm at now, it's just exhausting."
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allxthingsxglxtter · 1 year ago
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Hades studied the woman for a moment as she posed her questions, her enthusiasm definitely different to his own apathy. Lifting his hand, some water from a nearby fountain hopping to his palm and moving around it lazily. "No, water seems to be the gift I was given. But there is a method. There are a few from the world these powers originated from who could teach you the discipline I'm sure."
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a small laugh bubbled inside of her as she flexed her fingers. "this is mental, never in my mind did i think i'd be able to do this without the use of a wand." glinda admitted, shaking her head in disbelief. "it's incredible honestly - can you control the earth as well?" she asked the stranger quietly, her gaze never once leaving the palm of her hand. "is it like controlled through dumb luck? or is their an actual art?"
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@thebridgestarters
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safyresky · 2 years ago
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Hello hi, sorry to bother. But i'm in the middle fo righting my own ANGST and everything is horrible but i had a thought!
Have you ever had the idea of an AU where Jacqueline just fucking dies at the day of darkness? Just straight up bleeds out to death and dies. Jack is a full on child killer and Blinter is now back to only one kid. CATASTROPHE for sure, and the entire rest of the story never even happens. Everybody would stay frozen for an ETERNITY, Jack would have to go to jail for actual manslaughter, the works. But this idea has me thinking about what would happen anyway.
Im sorry that this thought is just incredibly morbid and sad, but i'm in my fictional world FEELS atm, and im very curious as to what this would look like/mean.
Me reading this:
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My fiancé when I read this out loud: ANDIE ARE YOU OKAY?? DO YOU NEED A HUG????
He then IMMEDIATELY ASKS ME WHAT I THINK WOULD HAPPEN, and he kinda let me use him like a rubber duck (because I've thought of a lot of "what ifs" on the day of darkness, but never this what if admittedly bc. Y'know. Magical healing springs and such) so here's what I've got for you on this fine angsty night! It turned into a bit of a drabble...whoops? Anyway.
Enjoy!!!!! I hope it kills us all dead!!! 😊😊😊😊😊😊
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Jack succeeds in something he never intended to do.
He sees the icicles go right through his little sister's body, all three of them; he sees the blood. He sees the magic on his hand, he KNOWS that it was him. He sees Blaise and Winter make it out of the house.
He panics.
He leaves her there in the snow, and he runs, disappearing into his storm.
Blaise and Winter rush to Jacqueline. They see the blood. They see the icicles. They go into crisis mode.
Maybe they bring her inside and stop the bleeding, but it's too late. Maybe she bleeds out on the spot. Maybe one of the icicles actually hits her heart or another organ that is integral to being alive and she dies before she even knows what hit her.
It'd be nice to think that, wouldn't it?
However it may come to pass, Jacqueline dies. She's gone. Blaise and Winter lay her to rest in Roseterra, hoping that it was fast and quick and that she's being taken care of by someone warm and sweet in Rosehaven. Maybe Mother Gaia; maybe the Goddess herself.
What comes next is hard.
Both Winter and Blaise are overcome with emotion; they've just lost one child by the hands of their other child.
In one fell swoop, they've lost both their children.
Winter freezes almost immediately after the funeral. She's desolate in her sadness; lost not one, but two children because Jack is, in fact, wanted. She has no words. What can she say? All she can do is cry and sob it won't change a thing. It won't bring her back. Nothing can.
Blaise struggles. He now has to apprehend his own son for murder. Murder of his own sister; Blaise's dear, dear little girl.
It hurts.
It hurts to think about how this happened, given that Jacqueline adored her older brother, and he her. He taught her everything she knew up until...that point.
He knows what he needs to do. But he can't bring himself to find Jack and do it. There's just too many emotions. That's his son for the springs sake! But he killed someone. He killed his own sister, Blaise's little snow angel, and murder is murder and it's hard to think that maybe there's some good left when the brightest little sprite is gone thanks to his son. He's all out of hope.
Blaise knows what needs to be done. He knows what he needs to do.
And like he had centuries, millennia before that, he encases his heart in stone.
It's his duty to bring Jack to justice. And he will do what he needs to do to get it done. Emotions be damned.
So both Blaise and Winter are, essentially, frozen over.
And they begin to drift.
Both are frozen; both keep their feelings to themselves. they don't talk like they used to. They focus on their jobs and nothing more.
Winter does as she was meant to do. She keeps the season going. But the winters change. They are cold, so, so, so very cold. Bitterly cold. Temperatures hit negatives that should not be hit. Twenty, forty, sixty, all below zero. They're dry. So very dry. So very dry and cold and there is no snow; just hard ground, cold, cold, cold and frozen. A tundra with no snow.
The joy of the season is gone.
Blaise throws himself into his work. His duties come first. At home, he exists alongside Winter, both numbed by grief and their hardened hearts. At work, he does his governor duties in the morning, and devotes his afternoons to the search for Jack.
The search lasts centuries.
A week after leaving, Jack checks in, as he does in a better timeline, to see if Jacqueline made it. But here, in this timeline, when he pokes around for his dear little sister's link with him, it's gone. It's dead. The spot in his mindscape that once housed the bright blue thread is cold and dead. Empty. The wind howls; beyond the connection, there is nothing.
He knows what he did. He killed her dead. And he knows the consequences, of course; but he refuses to face them. He refuses to face any of the memories, the feelings, the everything that transpired when he flung his hand and shink shink shink and the deep, deep pool of red and the darkness where once there was light.
He stays under the radar. He avoids the Council; he hides. And he is DAMN GOOD at it. Blaise expends so many resources and cannot find the man anywhere.
The years turn into decades; decades into centuries. Blaise intensifies his search for his son, throwing everything he has, all his power as Governor, his connections to other Governors and powerful castors, The Council of Legendary Figures, the operation up North--but he cannot find the man who murdered his daughter. He cannot find his son anywhere, and were he able to feel anything, he'd be furious.
But his heart is stony; all he can focus on is the hunt. Doing his duty. Bringing his little snow angel justice.
"It won't bring her back," Winter says to him one day. Her hair is so frozen it doesn't move; her face cold.
Blaise doesn't reply. Ash floats off his sooty head. His face is stony.
Winter would sigh, if she could bring herself to. But she can't. All she feels is a sadness that is building and building and growing into despair.
The front door opens and closes.
Blaise doesn't look up.
Winter doesn't look back.
---
They drift further and further; they rarely see one another. Winter finds solace in the mountains. Longer and longer stretches. The storms surrounding Bianca's Range grow stronger and stronger. The peaks are obscured constantly, now. The drifting mists from the crystal springs themselves can't even break through the whiteout.
Longer and longer stretches.
One day, she leaves for her new home.
The house, silent before, grows more silent still. Long ago, they had dreamt of filling the house to the brim with little flurries and spitfires.
But that was almost three thousand years ago.
Now it is filled to the brim with ghosts.
---
Jack gets cocky.
Of course he does; Blaise hasn't found him and it's been centuries. He ventures out. Shows up to a Council meeting or two. Plots and schemes and harasses Santa after Santa. Tries to gain the recognition that should be his.
Denial can be quite powerful when you live in it for a millennium and almost a half. You trap the thoughts of what could've been, what you could've done together; what you could've experienced with her. First partner. First major snowstorm. Freeze drying. Taking back the season together. the things you could've done, together!
Down the thoughts go, into the deep dark recesses of his memory until they no longer emerge. He goes about his business, getting closer and closer to taking out Santa, and having some near-misses of his own with the man pursuing him.
But an opportunity comes up; one that's too good to let go. You cause a little trouble here and there, have these amazing standees made of yourself with your own holiday name, and suddenly the entire Council is up in arms. So you go; this will be a fun one to get out of, and maybe Mother Nature will be so distracted by the balance swaying, that she won't think to tip off the authorities. The Authority.
Jack admires Blaise's tenacity. The man has NOT stopped pursuing him. He understands why, of course. Fully. But before he can dwell on it, he shoves the thoughts down down down, as far under the ground as she was now, and continues to do his thing.
And that's when he hears about it. Well, two things.
First off, Santa is stressed. Work is too much and the wife is expecting and he is afraid. He is TERRIFIED even. Jack can see the fear on his fellow Legend's face. He's very familiar with it. He's seen it on many a Santa before. Many a poor soul freezing to death. Falling to their death off a slippery slope. Landing in a heap with three icicles deep through their chest, the blood pouring out--
Down. Down, down, down. Lock those thoughts away. Deep breath. Keep going. Escape Clause?
Escape Clause.
Now that's interesting. Even more interesting when the other Legends don't tell him what it is. That's fine. He's clever. He'll figure it out.
And he does.
And all it takes is a little messing about here, clever words there, frosty meddling on the side, turning Curtis against Bernie, the whole nine yards.
And the family.
Jack chuckles to himself. Humans. So easy to get them upset! Rile them up enough, cause a very upsetting scene, and voila! Trouble in paradise!
A brief segue before this, of course, to follow Santa and the redheaded brat to the Hall of Snow Globes. Waiting just behind the doors and watching the secret door spin; waiting for it to spin back around to get in. Ignoring the very familiar handiwork of the icy walls inside the space and going for the prize.
Bring the man aside at his lowest low, get him to say the magic words, and voila!
Jack was Santa now.
But it didn't bring her back.
---
Not that he thought it would, of course. He'd like to think she was six feet under his long lost memories, but that was a lie.
She was always there. In the corners of his eyes, gone when he whipped around. One room over, gone when he entered it. Ghosts of giggles past and whispers of whoops when she mastered a new technique. Always there. Always in the corners, just out of reach.
So maybe, he had hoped, just a bit mind you, that somehow, doing this would change things!
But it didn't.
She was still gone, and his parents?
As gone as she was when he flipped the script on Santa.
He had it all. He had nothing. And when Scott finally appeared, Jack would've willingly gave it all away and turned himself in--if the man hadn't cut him off.
It was infuriating.
A last ditch effort to fight him for the jacket; a guilt trip that went nowhere (stealing the coat was nothing compared to stealing a life), and they were back.
As if nothing had happened.
And Jack knew that his time had run out.
Blaise had caught up to him.
---
Mother Nature had told Blaise of Jack's presence as soon as she could. Told him he would be staying at the North Pole. He had a large window of opportunity. Mother Nature felt this could be it.
And so had Blaise. His stony heart grew loud; he wouldn't blaze in this time, no. He'd do what needed to be done.
He gathered the Elite Peacekeepers, the Peace Enforcers. The strongest of spell casters. The most ruthless of the fighters. He prepped his staff, making sure he had the right spells himself.
He covered all the exit points of the Pole; pulled some strings to keep his son from escaping.
Murderer, his head corrected.
His heart was silent.
Troops assembling, he made one last trek through the city, past the springs, through the Forbidden Forest and up the Valley to Roseterra.
Her mausoleum was well kept. It always was. Flowers bloomed around it; the most beautiful snow sat on the top, hugging the warm structure. It was all sorts of light blues and yellows, her name written clearly still after all these years.
"I've got him now," Blaise said. "I'll bring you justice, snow angel. I love you."
He presses his forehead against the writing, his hand warm on the inscription. His eyes pricked, but no tears fell; they hadn't in years. He placed his flowers down, the orange lilies and red roses contrasting beside the fresh blue roses and white lilies, little red snow berries in between.
Good, he thought. Winter's okay.
And without a second thought, he kisses the tomb and turns to leave, the moment he had been waiting for for fourteen hundred years finally coming.
---
The Elfficers get him; the Council has him in their grasp. There is no escape. And before anyone can do anything, the Peace Enforcers come in, a stony man leading them, a staff glowing in his hand. His face is steely. Determined. Familiar. Older.
"That's enough," he says, his voice hard and full of a cold rage. "It's over."
"I know," Jack replies, as the Peace Enforcers spin circles of magic and capture him.
He's brought in, finally. Blaise does Santa a kindness and thaws his relatives. He doesn't say anything to the man. Leaves before he can see the family celebrate, together. He doesn't need to see that. He doesn't want to.
Outside, he taps his staff on the floor. It glows a multitude of colours, and Jack can feel so many magical traps and seals settle on him.
The fight is over. Neither sprite have any of it left in them.
And Jack is brought to justice.
He escapes, of course. Multiple times.
But Blaise catches him each time, patching the flaw.
The rehabilitation programs don't work. He keeps trying and trying to escape and a prison, a prison akin to the mortal ones, is made just for Jack.
There are a few more escapes, but they lead nowhere. He's caught each time. Until finally, he stays put. Makes himself comfortable, freezes the building solid with him inside. Brought to justice. (But it didn't bring her back).
Up in the mountains, Winter manages a sigh when she hears the news. Brought to justice. But like she had known the weeks after her darling little girl had passed, like she had told Blaise what felt like eons ago but also, like it was just yesterday, it hadn't brought her back.
And Blaise sits in the empty home, the dust and cobwebs clogging up the surfaces and corners. A sad wind blows through the desolate halls, echoing from bare room to bare room, wailing. He sits at the faded and worn chair at his desk.
He brought Jack in. He caught his daughter's killer. He brought justice.
But it didn't bring her back.
Jacqueline was still gone.
Winter was still gone.
Jack was gone.
They were all still gone, so far gone, and Blaise knew deep down, that he, too was gone.
And nothing could bring him back.
Nothing could bring any of them back.
Not even him.
---
(Comfortably hidden away in the East, The Man chuckles to himself, leaning back in his plush armchair and throwing his feet up on the ottoman below him, a roaring fire crackling in the fireplace. He chuckles to himself. He had heard the news. Blaise had lost everything.
The Man's lips quirked into a sneer of a smile. A simple curse was all it took; and a little bit of time, and boom. Blaise's life? Ruined. The Man closed his eyes, satisfied at last.
He had done it.)
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enehana · 3 months ago
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Chthonic Gods' Cabins Headcanons
Children of Hades, Persephone, Nyx, Hypnos, Nemesis, Hecate, Thanatos, Eris, Geras, Selene, etc. Any God that lives in the underworld or is a child of God that lives in the underworld.
They refer to themselves as Hellspawn endearingly.
They are so much more loyal to each other than to children of other Gods. They're all united by the underworld.
They have sleepover in the Hades Cabin. Chiron doesn't know, and he wouldn't allow it if he did. The Hecate Cabin masks their presence so others can see, hear, or sense them.
They treat children of Hades like royalty. They're all the pretty princesses of the underworld. They put a pink, fuzzy crown on Nico one time. He didn't particularly enjoy it, but he didn't stop them.
They make homemade candles and hold rituals in cemeteries and abandoned playgrounds.
They always make sure Hazel is welcome at camp. She is a queen. She can't be uncomfortable or unhappy at camp half blood.
They held a grand funeral for Bianca. She has a beautiful burial plot. Fresh flowers every week.
Sometimes they go frolicking through the underworld, holding hands and skipping. Purely for the irony.
They kind of consider Will one of them? They're a bit iffy about him because he's a son of Apollo, the sun god, but they appreciate how happy he makes Nico.
The underworld children that can summon spirits (Mostly Hades children. Children of Hypnos can make dead people appear in dreams. Few children of Nemesis can control vengeful spirits. Few children of Ares can call upon dead soldiers who lost their war. Thanatos children.) will gossip about the spirits they spoke to. They'll also work together to try to summon a lost friend or family member, to give one of them some form of closure.
The Hades cabin leads their little clique. Planning outings and meetings.
The Hypnos cabin regulates their dreams, making sure everyone sleeps relatively okay. They keep their dreams not terrible for the most part.
Children of Selene will use their powers to radiate moonlight, effectively making other children of the underworld slightly more powerful.
Children of Nemesis act as their regulators, their judges. If someone wronged one of them, the entire Nemesis cabin will get revenge for them.
Children of Nyx are their guards. All they have to do is look at someone, and they'll think a million times before they even interact with one of them.
Children of Persephone will grow flowers and fruit for them. They keep their lives bright and meaningful. A symbol of peace, even if only in short periods.
Children of Hecate will enchant anything for them. Magical weapons mean more security. And Tarot readings. A small glimpse into the future will calm them down so much.
Children of Geras will give them wisdom. Old age comes with experience. And experience leads to knowledge. An excellent guide for young, inexperienced demigods.
Children of Eris will remind everyone of what someone has done. Never forgetting someone's blatant wrongdoings. They warn everyone when they hear about something someone has done, trying to keep them out of trouble.
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flowerandblood · 3 months ago
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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 ]
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[ 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.
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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.
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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.
255 notes · View notes
radioactivesweet · 2 years ago
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Hi darling! May I have some headcanons for Sasaki, Buddha and maybe Hades or Hermes dating Nyx s/o? She's the goddes of night and the ONLY goddess Zeus feared ('cause she's older and stronger than him) Sorry for my english :(
Hello! Hope you like it^^ and dw, your English is fine :) I was having some problems with my laptop while writing this, so there may be some mistakes
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Sasaki is abnormally chill about dating a goddess feared by Zeus himself, one of those occasions where you can't tell if this human is brave or just incredibily dumb and reckless. Either way, he actually knows how dangerous you could be, but this doesn't mean he would leave you. You may be strong and ancient, yet one of the few deities he could get along with, not trying to exterminate humanity and such.
Sasaki believes that as long as he treats the way he would treat anybody else, without showing fear and trusting you, you will get along just fine. You are no different from other humans to him, so is treating you as one. You have just the same felings as everybody else and doesn't want to feel different in his eyes.This may lead to him straight up forgetting you are one of the most powerful deities out there and just act like you were the same as him.
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Buddha doesn't really care which goddess are you as long as you gift him candies don't try to give him orders and limit his own freedom. The reason he got close to you in the first place was the fact that Zeus feared you - so having you around meant not getting the latter close to him. Also, believing in his own strenght doesn't really make him scared of you. He respects you though and also sees you as a valuable ally. If you actually gift him food though, that's a faster way to reach his heart. He is even willing to share his with you.
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Quite literally a match made in hell. You're both ancient, strong, feared, related to darkness - with you being the goddess of night and him the god of teh dead - and quite misuderstood. You immediately got along and had known each other for a very long time - before Hades' brothers were even born. It was actually Hades who had later introduced to Zeus, who has been scared of you ever since. At parties you are basically that couple nobody approaches. Even though you actually aren't that scary, everybody seems to think so - which actually grants you both some quiet time together, without anybody bothering you. On the other hand, Cerberus loves you.
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Hermes is used to adapt and deal with a lot of different deities, being the messenger of the gods, so you aren't that challenging to him. At first he was quite interested in youi because of of his father being scared of you - but really he hadn't met any difficulties with getting to know you, thanks to him knowing how to interact with others. He finds it really amusing when he invites you over for dinner - with Zeus and Ares, since he gets to see them strangely and unexpectedly silent. You are usually gossipping together - since you've been around for longer than him and know quite a lot about other deities, old legends and other facts he wouldn't otherwise have never heard of - you are someone he can learn a lot from, which of course has its perks.
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pastelpousay · 9 months ago
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Disney Villans reaction to reader calling them little omega 💀
A/N:just so we’re all clear..this shit is clearly a joke I just thought this was funny all of this is a joke even the warnings
Warnings: fluff, some cursing..(sorry pook I’m a bit of a sailor)mentions of tough alpha zaddy, mentions of super submissive omega uwu senpapi
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Jafar:
Was like actually shocked…
What tf did you just say??
“Excuse me..??”
Little Omega
Bitch wtf
Then when you repeat yourself…
He’s bewildered
“I know for a fact you didn’t just call me that”
HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL OMEGA MEANS
Im pretty sure once he does find out what that means
He’s never gonna look at you the same again
Especially with the given context and the voice you said it in
He just sort of side eyes you now
Okay but on a real note is actually wondering what the hell is wrong with you…
“It’s okay little omega” bitch what????
He just stands there in shock, trying not to cringe
Is still wondering what’s wrong with you
That was so random and it came out of no where he knows your joking and all but like…
That was unnecessary and unneeded 😐
And if you ever call him that in public….
He’s currently fighting the urge to actually kill you
What tf is wrong with you
He doesn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about either on of you
So don’t call him that in public…or at all actually 😃
Like he knows your joking but also…be normal
“My dear…do you have to joke around like this?? It’s a bit odd my love..”
“It’s okay if you can’t handle these big alpha jokes little omega, you’ll get used to them soon”
“In what world are you the quote on quote “alpha””
“This one”
Every time you call him that be prepared to have a full blown conversation about who would be the alpha
And jafar is dead set on taking that alpha spot 💀
Hades(my man 😍):
He just gave you this super unamused look
He gets the joke, and the reference but he’s actually done with you….
How he gets the reference we’ll never know 🤷🏾‍♀️
Sometimes if he’s feeling playful he’ll play along but that’s in private…..but never do this bs in public
Or infront of pain and panic
He’d actually just end all three of you right then and there
“Hey little omega how was work??”
“…….okay you need to stop, babe..it’s getting out of hand”
“What’re you talking about, are you forgetting I’m the alpha wolf here little one???”
“….—_— get away from me..”
No but like he’s actually done with you
Why
he gets the joke but like….
Like I said before he does play along with you so remember if he gets on your ass about it remember to take note of what he says when he does play along
“Hey there my little omaga…how are you today”
“Good my big strong alpha wolf”
“…….screenshotted!!-“
“Wait what…wtf is a screenshot??”
IM THE ALPHA IM THE LEADER IM THE ONE TO TRUST
And also just like jafar, he likes to fight over which role he is
“I told you before little pup, you aren’t ready to be an alpha”
“Do I look little to you….”
yea, he also sometimes does genuinely wonder if you’re joking are not..
How would he know he’s not a mind reader
It’s like a 30-40 % chance…
He often just brushes the topic aside
I mean it’s weird yes but it’s not like he’ll love you any less
Pain and panic have definitely overheard some of those conversations
Don’t tell hades 💗
Gaston:
His reaction to that information:
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No like literally he would make this exact face 💀
He didn’t get the reference or that it was even a joke in the first place
What does ‘omega’ even mean???
I’m pretty sure he’d be the only one to never question you about it and just rolling with it for the hell of it 😭😭💀
He secretly wonders if your joking or not
He sure is hoping so..
He won’t play along with you either he’ll just kinda look at you funny
Or he’ll roll his eyes and or chuckle a bit
Not even knowing what that even is
He secretly questions why he likes you
What drove him to like Such a…
Freak…
Lightheartedly of course 😙
He will still question if there’s something wrong with you
He just now registered that it’s a joke but like
Why can’t you be normal…
What was the reason???
He doesn’t understand it
No matter how many times you explain he’s still confused
Your only allowed to do this in public because he doesn’t understand what an ‘omega’ is
Once he does….
Ngl his goofy ass would probably be shellschocked 💀💀 not even upset about it 💀😭
But like…he’s still salty about it
And if you guys ever have a disagreement he’ll definitely bring that up
Like it’s fucking blackmail 😭💀
“I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL THAT IS!!”
“…that’s why I’m the alpha bitch 🐺🤫🧏‍♂️”
Meanwhile he doesn’t even know what blackmail means probably 💀
He’s so fucking goofy bro- i love him sm
Dr. Failicer
I’m gonna be dead honest….
He knew you had to have been joking…there’s no way you just said that and now have the audacity to laugh about it in his face
“….your ass better be joking…”
He said that in more of a warning tone if anything
Like he’d loose his mind if you were actually being serious
Now that he knows you aren’t(for sure)
He can somewhat live in peace (not really)
Still thinks your a mega freak
Lowkey uses this shit as blackmail
He always gives you that look after you say some shit like that
Like it’s either that 100 yard stare or the “Ik you didn’t” ahh look
“Hello baby, my little omega-“
“Tf is wrong with you-“
He gets used to ur bullshit after a while but like and starts to laugh with you about it
But still don’t do this shit in public with him
There will be an argument about it
Everytime you do it now he just smiles and rolls his eyes choosing not respond with to you bs
“Pookie butt omega…why’re ignoring me 🥺🥺🥺”
“…chér…..just……be normal for once please”
Bro is begging 💀
Don’t get me wrong he thinks it’s funny and all but still 😭😭😭
Your lucky he loves you enough to deal with this type of buffoonery
Hook (ft jake and the neverland pirates cuz jake is his son 🤫🧏‍♂️)
Definitely had to do a double take….
The only thing he got out of that was ‘little’
But still wtf💀
“……what’re you on about dear….”he says pinching in between his brows
He doesn’t even know what that means
Nor will he get the reference
Probably ever
And even then he’s still done with you and your bs
Don’t get caught doing this shit when Peter is around either
Or his crew for that matter
If you do it in front of Mr. Smee they’ll be giving each other that look💀💀
“Are they okay??”
“I think the barnacles are starting to get to them”
💀💀💀
Ngl this shit would probably spread to jake so quick it’s not even funny💀💀
“You don’t get it dad your not an alpha wolf like the rest of us 💪🐺” 💀💀💀
By this point he’d actually just turn a blind eye to it
He’s so done with you
First Mr. smee now jake??
Wow
Might as well the rest of the crew huh??
The only person that knows what an alpha is is probably jake and that’s cause you taught him 💀💀
He gets that your joking and all (now at least)
After a while it’s probably just be such a normal occurrence to the point he just gives up
“Hey little omaga, how are you??”
“Good my…..alpha-“ he shudders at the thought of even calling you that but I digress
Still don’t do this infront of the crew 💀💀
You already got jake in on it he doesn’t need his crew knowing about what a freak you are….but hey he loves that freak right?? 😭😭
Just kidding your not a freak
Just a bit of a weirdo
And talking with you definitely doesn’t get old
Frollo (haven’t watched this movie in a while so forgive me if this isn’t accurate)
Your ass is getting crucified idk what to tell you 🧍🏾‍♀️
Jk(not really)
He’d definitely be baffled
He give you this disgusted look then shake his head before walking away
He needs at least an hour long break from you after that 😭💀
He never would have thought you would’ve done something like this
But whatever
He didn’t register it was a joke but while he’s taking his break from you he’d probably figure it out
He still thinks it’s a really weird joke
It doesn’t even make sense😭
He questions you about it later
In the end he still doesn’t get the point of the joke
“How is that funny in any way shape or form”
“It just is”
“It just isn’t”
“But it is”
“But it’s not”
“Shut the fuck up little omega daddy’s always right🤫🧏‍♂️”
Que frollo fainting
You two will usually go back and forth about this topic
After a while he won’t even care to argue about it anymore it just becomes a borderline normal occurrence
Key word borderline
He still thinks it mega weird no matter whether it’s a joke or not
It’s exasperating for him at this point
“Why must you you be this way?”
“It’s funny to see you upset 🥳”
Another one of villans whos done with you shit
Everytime you do it it gives him a migraine
But hey it’s worth it to keep his love entertained right?? 😭
Maleficent
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Her actual reaction not even kidding
What’s wrong with you man??
She just looked at you
It wasn’t even worth it to her to respond 💀
Your lucky she didn’t turn you into a rat after that 💀💀
She knows you were joking
The joke just didn’t land
“…….omega…….?? I’m the omega here???”
“…….sorry pookie🧎”
She soon realizes she made a mistake by not checking you behavior
Because you kept at it
Now the only response you get is her face scrunching up in disgust
It’s so funny bro 😭😭
“How’s my little omega kitten today, mally??”
“…….I should have turned you into a salamander when I had the chance 🤦‍♀️”
There’s not really much else
There’s not really anyone else around that can catch you doing it
But if they were to shed actually just kill you both 💀💀
She’s sick of you to say the least
She knows you joking why can’t you be normal or quiet at least
Definitely questioning why she hasn’t killed you yet or why she loves you for that matters
When you do this you might doubt if she does at all but her not turning you into the rat you are should be proof enough 🥳🥳
I would have added the others but I got hella lazy and I had already spent over a week on this so enjoy little omegas of the world 🥳🥳🥳 I might add more later but who knows
I’m never writing again /j
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pjo13percy · 7 months ago
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Okay, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get it out of me. Percy does not hate Nico. Nor does Nico anymore. And Percy never, and I mean never, treated Nico unfairly, or with apathy. He may think so, but he didn’t. Percy said that he sort of sounded like his mom to Nico in The Titan’s Curse. And we know how amazing of a mom Sally Jackson is. Percy decided to take on the weight of a whole dam prophecy. For Nico. Percy was so worried for Nico when he went missing, that Bianca had to reach out from the Underworld to help him. Sure, he got angry at Nico sometimes, but only two times. Both were reasonable. Percy and Nico were both manipulated by Hades, so the first time was technically Hades’ fault. The second time, well, if someone decided not to tell me who I was when I was an amnesiac, I’d be pretty mad too. And Percy just thought of wringing Nico’s neck, he didn’t actually do it. Plus, Percy never believed that Nico was dead in MoA, and the only person who whom he believed for like that was Annabeth, so it’s obvious that he does love him like a little brother. And when Percy saw Nico for real, out of the Bronze Jar, his heart stopped. It may not be literal, but the sight of him like that hurt him so much, he felt like that. Plus, he wanted to rush over and check whether he was alive or not, but couldn’t otherwise,well, the giants. Also, Percy only allowed Nico to call him “Seaweed Brain”, other than Annabeth, as seen in Un Natale Mezzosangue. When Alex and Thalia called him that, he reprimanded them. Not for Nico. Also, when Percy saw him in TSATS, he was ecstatic to see him. Also, Nico himself stated that when Percy had invited him for cake and ice cream in BoTL, he felt a spark of true friendship. And Nico even went to his house with Will for advice. Like, if that is not the most brotherly thing ever between brothers, then I don’t know what is. In TLO, Percy also used his wish from the gods essentially to help Nico, and give him a home. Never, and I mean never, forget that.
Edit: Also, in MOA, Percy was right by Hazel’s side on saving Nico. He legit said that ‘Nico certainly didn’t deserve to die’. Also, when they had to pay tribute to Dionysus, it was more of a choice between Nico and 6 million. He could have chosen to keep all the money, and not pay tribute to one of his least favourite gods EVER. Instead, he decided to help save Nico by paying the tribute, and thus getting the gods help to defeat Otis and Ephialtes.
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a-great-tragedy · 6 months ago
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Our english teacher made us watch Percy Jackson, the movies (I cried when she announced it) here are my thoughts
Dear god it’s worse than I remember
Perce is a terrible nickname
Why did they make Grover a player?? He’s not a player!!
“This is a pen. A pen!”
He didn’t even kill Mrs. Dodds???
The fact that he just didn’t react at all when his mom dies
Why is Percy sword fighting Annabeth, he’s supposed to be on her team??
Chiron just watching Percy getting beaten the shit out of by Annabeth, Sir you are in charge here!!
And then he laughs when Percy knocks a kid to the ground. The favoritism is alive and burning
The way they never established Luke and Annabeth’s friendship
Why did they make it about the pearls, it wasn’t about the pearls
Highway to hell, okay I can work with this
“I used to date your daddy.” why?? Was this supposed to be comedic relief?? It just made me uncomfortable
Why is Medusa flirting with him? wtf
A truck??
why are they keeping the head in the bathroom
In the books they never visited the Parthenon why was that added?
Plz, I prefer the inaccurate Louis Arch thing than this
Grover is jumping to conclusions
They said the shoes would be hard to use and then he preceded to use them correctly on the first try
The graphics are killing me
Annabeth literally never touched a bow in the books but okay
Annabeth’s dagger erasure
Annabeth’s personality erasure
So they could have just used the head the whole time to kill them?? This is the most pointless-
I WANNA HOLD EM LIKE THEY DO IN TEXAS PLEASE
Why are they doing drugs??
FOLD EM LET EM HIT ME RAISE IT BABY STAY WITH ME
Why did Grover become a sheep there for a second
LOVE GAME INTUITION PLAY THE CARDS WITH THE SPADES TO START
That poor lady that just carries Grover’s crutches around 😭
AND AFTER HE’S BEEN HOOKED UP PLAY THE ONE THAT’S ON HIS HEART
Get it Grover I guess??
Why did Poseidon wait so long to tell Percy about the hotel?? He’s a god, he could’ve told him at any point in time, why wait?
stealing a car is sooo piper of them
WATCH WHERE YOUR GOING
why is the underworld in Hollywood, it’s genuinely annoying me.
Now why is Grover being the dumb one
Persephone flirting with Grover is the worst thing that has happened so far
why is hades evil, he’s just a depressed old man
Why?
Not them just leaving Grover behind
They forgetting Percy has a fatal flaw
and a personality
Everything about this fight is uncomfortable
“I’m pretty sure I’m the son of Poseidon” whatever Peter Johnson
How is Luke supposed to live after that?
Someone yelled “HE’S DEAD” Immediately after
Why do the gods look like that???
They are supposed to be dressed modern
nothing about this is right
Worst part is that Gabe didn’t die
I didn’t pay attention after Gabe didn’t die so I have no other thoughts
This movie deserves jail time
I’m so glad we got another adaptation
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cinderellaenjoyer · 1 month ago
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God Games But Posideon Does It
Okay, so, Epic! Posideon wants Ody dead, right? And he can't really do that if Odysseus is stuck on Calypso's island.
So! I had the bright idea of Posideon doing God Games instead of Athena, only vouching for Odysseus to be realsead so Posideon can kill him.
Apologies if some of the Gods are OOC from their Myth counterparts, I tried to do their characters as best as I could
Enjoy
Poseidon:
Brother, God King
Rarely do I ask for favours
Now, I'm knocking on your door
With hopes to take revenge on the one who blinded the son of mine
Odysseus
Zeus:
Divine intervention, is that what you seek?
To have your sweet revenge on that silly reckless Greek?
You are playing with thunder, for something that you should have gotten over
But if he's worth the risk of going under, why not make it a game?
Convince each of them that he ought to be released, and I'll release him
Poseidon: Who's them?
Zeus:
Helios!
Aphrodite!
Persephone!
Demeter!
Hades!
Or me. What do you say?
Helios: Sure
Aphrodite: Eh
Demeter: Why not?
Persephone: Okay?
Hades: Sounds fun.
Poseidon: Bring it!
(Helios!)
Helios:
You all know to whom that cattle belonged
So with Eurylchous already gone, I think Ody can stay on Ogygia
Poseidon:
It’s because he did them worse
They mutinied after he betrayed them
Now they're stuck in the underworld
And he’s gotten off free for what he’s done!
Helios: If that's true, release him
(Aphrodite!)
Aphrodite:
Love is that man’s driving force
Why should I give you my support?
He’ll do anything for his wife and son
Poseidon:
Did you forget about his mother?
He let her die with her heartbroken
So if you make the right decision
I can make sure it was worth it for that poor woman
Aphrodite: Fine, release him
(Persephone)
Persephone:
You must think that I’m crazy
Hundreds of soldiers in the underworld
Thanks to your petty little stunt
Poseidon:
I was avenging my son!
Persphone:
More like having too much fun spiting Odysseus
Let him stay on that island, isn’t that already pain enough?
Poseidon:
Wait! Niece, just consider it!
Demeter:
Really Poseidon? Don’t try it
Poseidon: Demeter!
(Demeter…)
Demeter:
What kind of petty god of sea
Asks a man to be released
So he can sign his death warranty?
You’re the reason he’s far from Ithaca
The reason his family still misses him!
Pretended to be insane so he wouldn’t have to war!
So determined he tried to push through your storm!
Has a son that he never got to see grow!
Poseidon:
Hold your tongue now
This is about my son, not me!
And tell your daughter that he sacrificed the other 43
You talk about family?
Then listen to me!
He blinded Polyphemus, and I need to see him bleed
Demeter/Persephone: …Er, release him
Hades: Hey brother
(Hades!)
Hades:
Death Is inevitable
With or without bloodshed!
Give me one good reason why you should speed up the process
Poseidon:
He blinded the son of mine
Hades:
So I’ve heard
Poseidon:
He got all his men killed!
Hades: Why would I be upset about that?
Poseidon:
He’s kinda annoying?
Hades: So was Orpheus
Poseidon: Might as well complete the whole set with his crew
Hades: -Release him.
Poseidon: I've played your game and won, now let me at him!
Zeus: You dare make a fool of me? To make me feel shame? No one beats me, no one wins my game!
Thunder, bring him, thoroughly wring him!
Show him I'm the judgement call!
The one who makes his kingdom fall!
Apollo: Told you he would lose.
Athena:
Let him go, Father
Let him go
Zeus: Of course, my child
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allxthingsxglxtter · 1 year ago
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@cquity || In response to this
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"Unfortunately no, not really. I've just heard stories." Hades flexed his hands before putting them back in his pockets, still rather uncertain about the gifting of powers so widely. "Hopefully they don't last long. It seems unwise, giving so much power to so many at once." He believed in mortals, and that they could be good. But he also understood that it got tricker to make good choices once there was too much power at hand.
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ambros1an · 5 months ago
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acheron — persephone
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warnings: spoilers for Acheron backstory & real name, loosely!! based off hades and persephone myth, gn! reader, implied nihility emanator reader
summary: Acheron, who is tasked with ferrying the dead comes across an unusual guest. A living person.
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In hades, “the drowned ask for help, lament with songs, find their happiness, enjoy sweet moments, and suffer great agony.”
In hades, the shadows reach out to grasp her ankles in an effort to free themselves from the river of woe; unaware they have long since departed. Their hands are just wisps of something that once was.
In hades, an end does not exist.
Nonetheless, it is her duty to guide lost souls back to the other side, no matter how pointless the task.
In memories long ago, she encountered few travelers, Frebass, Tiernan, all met their departure within the Nihility.
One drowned beneath the sea, picking apart her bones till she was nothing. The other lingered for years, maybe decades, unaware of his own death.
However, you seemed unaware of your own life.
You stood there looking up at the sin thirsters, your feet planted in the water. The constant rain pouring down, drenching your clothes.
“This is no place for the living,” she said, “you must be cold, follow me.”
Guiding the dead was what she was used to. Her title, Acheron, was a river upon which souls of the deceased were ferried across. But not the living. Not even when she was Mei did she avoid bloodshed.
She shepherded you across the black sea in a run-down boat. It bobbed up and down in the water, the sin thirsters nearly turning it over with their claws. They could sense the living. One sight of the sword had them shrinking away.
She led you to a cave which hadn’t been used in sometime. It was damp, droplets slid down the wall of the cavern. The only warmth came from the fire the hooded figure put together.
“Usually those that come to IX are dead or planning to die. You don’t look like either. What brought you?” Acheron broke the silence.
“Death. I must be dead,” you say. It was as if you woke up after a long period of time. Nothing looked familiar. Nothing, not even your last memories gave any hints.
She shook her head, “I guide those who are departed. Those ‘shadows’ were the dead. You certainly aren’t like them.”
“So, I’m alive?” You look at your hands. They were still flesh, and not shadow.
Acheron nods, “Mmm, for now.”
For now? Your eyes widen at the response. Backing up against the wall, you look for the words to say but your mouth just opens and closes. Is she going to kill you?
She looks over to you, expressionless, she reaches into her cloak and throws out a peach at you. “There’s a storm coming. It’ll be a long one. Not to worry, I will guide you,” and this time I won’t fail.
To consume the fruit of the underworld meant to be binded. To be indebted to Hades.
The peach lands in your hand. “Guide me?”
“To lead you out of here. To take you back to the mortal realm.”
With the peach in your hands, you stare at it. The bleak monochrome world of IX comes back to you. The wispy shadows pooling around your feet. Every step making a splash in its waters. Staying any longer…
You look back to the woman who’s called “Acheron,” who led you to shelter, who created warmth in the form of a flame, who leads the dead to a new life. Although her expression never changed, her words were always sincere.
“I trust you,” you take a bite of the peach, “but first, what’s your name?” You ask in between chews.
“…..Raiden Bosenmori Mei,” she mumbles but her words sound more like a whisper, something that should’ve been left unsaid, “But Acheron is fine.”
The only response that follows is the rain beating against the roof, and the flames licking against wood.
“Hey,” she says, “six months. That’s all I need. Just don’t forget when the six months are up,” Acheron grins, “Persephone.”
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@ryeins
a/n: this was so hard bc I didn’t want to make it creepy like the og myth but also not ooc. also readers nihility influences them to lose their sense of self (hence the whole dead thing)! lore
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hamletshoeratio · 10 months ago
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I'm getting too emo over "What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea" because of fucking Theseus of all people.
Theseus is remembered as a hero mainly because he defeated the minotaur, but that isn't where his story ends. He abandons Ariadne, who is literally the only reason he made it through the labyrinth in the first place. He either is cursed to forget, or he himself forgets to raise white flags so his (mortal) father knows he survived, and said father throws himself into the sea in despair and dies thinking his son is dead. Becoming King of Athens as a result of that, he eventually becomes a tyrannical king after being led down a dark path by a toxic friend. Where once he was brave and cared for other people, only attacking after first being attacked, after meeting Pirithous, he began acting without thinking, doing dangerous and cruel things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. He becomes cruel and self-serving. He kidnaps a thirteen year old Helen of Sparta, intent on making her his wife (never mind the wife he already has). He tries to help his buddy kidnap a literal goddess so that they both can be married to daughters of Zeus (forgetting that said daughter of Zeus is freaking Persephone, who is already married to Hades, so not a smart plan at all). Hercules saves his ass from Hades' punishment, but even despite all of the above bullshit, the Gods still don't abandon him. Not until he murders his own son do they abandon him. He's old, and his own people despise him, so he decides to try and be a hero again. He fails. Eventually, he is either pushed or he himself jumps (depends on the retelling) into the sea and drowns.
Thesus represents the worst aspects of Poseidon. He's possessive, temperamental, violent, selfish, impulsive, and all-consuming. He doesn't take no for an answer. Percy, on the other hand, represents the opposite. He represents the best of Poseidon. He's powerful, but he's gentle too. They share a father, and they both killed the minotaur, but Percy is the one who remembers to send his mortal parent the signal that would tell them that he had survived. Theseus is reclaimed by the ocean, consumed by it, almost as if the waves are trying to cleanse away his sins. Poseidon lets Percy go to forge his own path, says that he deserves to rest (toa;ton). Percy may come and go to the sea as much or as little as he wishes.
What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea.
We do get to see Theseus once in the botl, when he's summoned by Nico. He seems to have learned from his mistakes, as he tries to persuade Nico not to go down the same path as he did (trust someone who would lead him down a dark path) and suffer the same fate as a result. I'm looking forward to the shows interpretation of this if we're lucky enough to get it.
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sguidwards-bestfriend · 9 months ago
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New Dimension, Who's This?
honestly writing this cuz I saw @gin2212 's comment and made me teary, so were gunna finish this bad boy! not today but you know... it will happen
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, part 5, part 6
Explicit mentions of death (but of characters that are currently living) Kind of OG version of their deaths
Danny had only walked through the Wayne’s home adjacent gardens once, in a direct route to the barn. Batcow was a highlight of that little excersion.
Now, however, they were actually looking at the shrubbery shaped like boring spheres and rectangles.
He felt Jason become distant and floated back a bit, he’d turned left into a very small opening.
Inside were three unmovable cement benches that curved slightly into one circle. The well cut bushes were wilder in here, making it cramped and impossible to see over the hedge.
“This spot used to be my favorite, when the weather was nice. I’d come out here with a book and whatever drink Alfred had decided to make that day.” Jason looked down at a square of cement in the middle, probably where a table had been. The indents on the side of the seats, likely from the mold it was made from, had moss growing in it.
“This seems like the perfect hideout.” Danny smiled and sat on the bench opposite Jason.
Jason hummed in agreement, he coughed awkwardly even for Danny’s standards and spoke up again. “So, you’re the god of death?” Jason was probably really good at looking casual and intimidating to most people, but Danny could sense the tension emanating from his core as he sat near a branch mere inches from his face with his hands in his pockets, probably wishing he could lean against something to look nonchalant.
“Nope, I’m the king of the dead. They aren’t the same thing.”
“So, you’re not Hades?”
“I hope not, I’ve met him and he’s kind of a dick.”
Jason laughed softly, he liked how it sounded “Okay, cool, so the Greek gods exist.”
“All of the gods do, technically.” He waited for Jason to look at him. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but the infinite realms isn’t really a dimension on its own. It’s the space between all dimensions. When you die you have to pass through it to get to your destination. Some people don’t have a place and they end up part of my realm, some get lost, some sell their soul, others forget their lives entirely and are part of my people from the second they pass over. Then there are the never-borns: souls that form from pure will of the infinite realms. All that is part of my domain.” Danny floated up a bit to try and catch a glimpse of the stars, the smog from Gotham blocking everything. He looked back at Jason and his stomach did a little flip that he decidedly did nothing about. “But just so were clear; hell, the underworld, and all those other things are in the infinite zone. They aren’t all the same thing.”
“Okay. So, you rule over those too?”
“Again no, once a soul gets into the correct dimension, I don’t really have anything to do with it.”
“Wait so if someone who believes in an afterlife sells their soul what happens?”
Danny slouched in the air and grunts, “That’s where all the fucking paperwork comes in. I really want you to imagine the most bureaucratic way to possibly move to a new country, but you have none of your documents. Being stuck in this dimension was a fun break at first, but now all I can think of are the stacks of A-13 forms that are probably covering the castle floors.”
Jason shifted and with it came a wave of uncertainty. “If someone was killed and brought back, what then?”
Danny has seen how ghosts in the zone get when they talk about their deaths. For many it’s all they remember of their life. If a ghost with years to think it through reacts explosively he’s not sure how it will go with a newbie. “Well, a few things. The soul could come back to a place without a body in which case you have a true haunting. If the death was quick, it could have flash formed a core, that’s like a soul that has died fully, and then shoved back into the living body. That’s how you get halfas like me.”
Jason still looked cool and collected on the outside but there was unbelievable turmoil seeping out of him. “What if the body was dead for a while? What if a soul or core was shoved back into a body on purpose?”
“I’ve only seen one revival before, but there was a lot of time warping there. The necromancers I’ve met who were trying to bring someone back didn’t have access to ectoplasm which had results that are very different to… having it.” Danny breathed out to calm himself, letting that calm wave wash over Jason as well. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s alright.” Jason shuffled his leather jacket, “You call it ectoplasm.”
“Yeah.” Danny answered with a lilt in his voice.
“The green goop filled pools you said you emptied, you mentioned they were corrupted.”
“I did yeah.”
“What would happen if someone was exposed to that?”
“Honestly, it’s not the first time I’ve come across it but never that much. For ghosts it can leave them sick and weak for days. Not like polluted water, more like if you switched out the water a healthy person drank for soda exclusively. It won’t kill them, but it will have a negative effect.” Danny thought for a second and remembered the one-time Sam got covered in a mix of good and contaminated ecto during a fight with Undergrowth. “I saw how a diluted version of it affected a living person, her mind was warped and she had the same sort of tunnel vision a ghost has if they have a particularly strong obsession.”
Jason took a breath, he’d been going strong so far. Danny may come to regret this, but he put a hand on his shoulder and floated where they’d be face to face, letting his bottom half fade away into the ghostly tail. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, but I can subdue your emotions a bit if you want to talk about it.” Jason looked up quickly and Danny scrambled to correct himself. “I haven’t been doing that! Well, like not in a controlling way, more like the ghost version of calming down a friend who’s freaking out. If you pushed past it I wouldn’t hold you back.”
“You should.” Danny couldn’t help the questioning noise that came out of him, “The first year I came back, I don’t remember it well, but I tried to kill Tim… and possibly Damian. If I do go too far hold me back.”
Danny nodded, “Back in the hall, when Tim was taking an unorthodox amount of coffee cups out of his room,” Jason snorted a bit and smiled, “you didn’t fight me stopping your emotions from bubbling over. I think, with even a little help, you do in fact make the right decisions.”
Jason’s hand came up to hold on to Danny’s forearm, “I went out to stop the top villain at the time, the Joker. I really did think I could beat him so I turned off my coms. He… He beat me to an inch of my life and left me to die in the explosion he’d rigged up.” Jason’s body was hot to the touch and he was obviously timing his breaths. “I can still feel the damn crowbar he used whenever I fall asleep. Batman had never been late before; he’d never let something like that go past him. My plan B was him, and he didn’t make it.”
Danny hummed. A benefit of their shared ghostliness in needing not to use his words, he pushed through waves of camaraderie and understanding.
“I had dug myself out of my own grave. I don’t remember much other than pain for months. Then Talia, Damian’s genetic mother, threw me into a Lazarus pit. The first thing I remember seeing was looking up at her terrified face, tinted in green.”
There was anger as he spoke her name, Danny controlled the waves of corrupted ecto that were threating to turn those emotions against Jason’s true wishes.
“I was fifteen, how does someone let a child do that. I was a kid!” Jason’s emotions were switching around and Danny could hear the forming core start too fuss. “I was just a kid.”
Danny came closer and wrapped all four of his arms around Jason, squeezing him just enough to feel a weight on him, but not so much it was restrictive.
Jason still seemed tense so, Danny did the only thing he could think of, he talked of his own death.
“My parents built the first ever physical portal to the realms. I was messing around with friends and they dared me to walk into the useless frame. My parents always had a tendency of forgetting lab safety and making just one mistake in every build. I’m not sure how they managed to put the on button inside it, but I tripped, hitting it on my way down. I could feel every bolt of electricity ripping me apart as the link between worlds opened directly on top of me. I died separate to my body and ended up like this.” Danny moved back and looked down at himself without letting go of Jason. “I tried to tell my parents at first, but they were always busy.
They spent the day I finally gave up trying to trap my sister; thinking she was the ghost their devices we’re picking up.”
Jason rested his forehead on Danny’s, sighing against the cold touch. “How old we-“
“Fourteen.”
“We were kids.”
“Yeah,” Danny kept his forehead against Jason’s. Two arms he left at Jason’s shoulders, the other two caressing his arms.
With a wave of confidence and fear Jason grabbed Danny by the waist and pulled him in for a real hug.
They held each other there, hidden amongst the foliage, until it started to drizzle.
“We should-“
Danny cut him off, pulling back to show the tears running down his face. “Can we go to your room?”
“Yeah, come on.”
They didn’t touch on the walk through the garden, or at the entrance, or in the hall. No, it wasn’t until the door was closed behind them that Danny came forward and just barely touched his arm.
Jason grabs him and pulls him in again, this time resting his chin on the top of Danny’s head. The attempt to calm Danny down just as he had for Jason made him start to cry again, this time much happier.
The surge pushed his kingly nature to shift into something more human. His arms went back to only two, his skin became that of a pale human’s (for the most part), his ears shrank down and his pointy teeth rounded out. And, surprisingly, his form gave him pajamas.
The ecto the change required didn’t accept the contaminated ecto that Jason had sent and Danny sagged into Jason, his knees buckling.
“Hey, hey.” Jason hushed, “I’ve got you.”
He sat Danny on the bed and went to get pajamas for himself. Once changed he laid down beside Danny and curled around him.
Danny was laying on his back, his legs bent over Jason’s thighs, who was laying on his side up against Danny. Creating a cocoon to hold Danny in.
They fell asleep quickly, Danny held Jason's hand on his chest throughout the rest of the night.
Neither of them had nightmares.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
@bjurnberg, @skulld3mort-1fan, @akikkobara @undead-bi-dinosaur, @amyheart19, @phoenixdemonqueen, @not-your-average-url, @seraphinedemort, @theywontletmeusetheoneiwant,  @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @kyrianclawraith, @i-always-say-yea, @gin2212
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smtsmtblablabla · 4 months ago
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Hadeficent headcanons (rise of red universe)
Ok, I´ll do it myself. These are some thougts about how they acted in school, around other people and alone.
Hades does not give two shits about Uliana, he is just there for maleficent (and the drama entertains him)
Maleficent on the other hand is in her insecure era, not yet having found her footing in the evil business and Uliana is loud enough for her to want a bit of that spotligth.
If anyone looks funny at Maleficent, they will have their hair burnt, period.
Every valentines day he gives her a bouquet of dead flowers in public and then bright pink roses in private (people tend to forget that Maleficent has a whole thing with roses too, before Beauty and the beast and even the queen of hearts, so for me they are secretly her favorite flower);
They use magic to talk thelepaticaly, that´s why they almost never actually speak in public.
Hades belives wholeheartly that Maleficent is going to be a great fairy someday.
They share jewelry;
SavvyDevine666 wrote on a ao3 fic that they get more detention for improper pda than for being evil and u know what, canon.
If we are stepping into thet sort of territory I will ask for any -18 to get out bc things will start to get a bit nasty.
We all agree that Hades is the top rigth? Like, he just has that kind os energy to me;
Maleficent is that kind of girl that is all tough in public but in any intimate situation turns into a soft needy mess;
The best sex is angry sex, and boy do they have a lot of those.
They trust each other. Like really trust, to the point that is a bit scary to them.
fell free to add anything if u want! They are being my main brainrot these past few days, I had to write smt about them
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superkooku · 6 months ago
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Dionysus' iceberg
This post is what remains of an initially very long rant idea. That means there will probably be a part 2 😏.
Here's the reason for my title :
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In theory, you can stop there since my meme pretty much summarizes my complaints. But since I like ranting, I'll continue 😈
The tip of the iceberg
When you think "Dionysus", which words come in mind first ?
Probably "wine", "party", "alcohol" "fun god".
These words are what most people remember about Dionysus. And yes, I'm not going to deny, they fit.
Unfortunately, my problem comes with the fact that 9.5 times out of 10, Dionysus' personality will exclusively revolve around these aspects.
Since the issue is about modern adaptations and perceptions, I'll use a modern term.
I'm sure most of you are familiar with flanderization, right ? If not, the link to TV Tropes' article on the subject is available.
Many adaptations fell into that trap for, I think, every single Olympian.
Hades, god of the dead, lord of the Underworld = Satan, evil death god, darkness and sorrow
Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty = Superficial bimbo who only cares about her pretty face
Zeus, king of the gods, lord of the sky and thunder = 100% pure God OR more recently : evil king god who constantly abuses women.
The gods are stripped of their complexity to fit simpler and more "digestible" characterizations. It doesn't help that the cultural context surrounding them is also taken away...
But this is about grape boi, right? Well, Dionysus is no exception to that rule. In fact, he might be one of the worst cases.
So far, he was never really portrayed in an "insulting" light, like Apollo in Lore Olympus or Hades in the Percy Jackson movie. Fortunately.
But, from all the popular adaptations I've seen, none of them manage to portray Dionysus ! None ! Does that make them automatically bad ? No, of course. It's just something I noticed.
God of war ? Doesn't appear, only mentioned
Disney ? Don't even try 🤣. Just a drunk goofball. Yes, that includes the fantasia segment and Hercules.
Lore Olympus? Well, he's a baby for 99.99999% of the time, so it doesn't count. But he's still a quiet little Gucci bag for Persephone.
Hades I ? Just a nice guy. But hey ! He can give us useful boons ! And I like his sass.
Maybe he'll do more in Hades II. They're usually more accurate than most, right ? Though that's not a very high bar. And they know about Zagreus ! Surely that's a good sign, right ?
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Nevermind...
Here's what all these adaptations tell us :
Dionysus is the god of wine, feasts and parties
He's an Olympian
He likes to get drunk and party 🥳
And that's it.
Again, I'm not blaming anyone, but if the myths stopped with those three points, wouldn't everyone wonder why he's even an Olympian ? I sure did when I was a kid.
We have the god of thunder, the goddess of wisdom and war strategy, god of music/arts/medicine/100 other things, the god of the oceans ! Many cool gods !
And some drunk dude. He's not given any particular power, except the power to stay super passive no matter the stakes ! If the story revolves about epic godly fights (which is often the case), he's absolutely useless.
Heck, Hades II even actively depicts him as a pacifist who can't handle war. While he's not physically a weakling, he sure psychologically is.
Why is this a problem ?
I am not going to beat around the bush: this gives us a very incomplete and incorrect perception of the god.
Even the things that aren't forgotten about him (like his link to wine) aren't explored.
The thing with Hades II (that's the last time I'll mention it) is that it tries to deepen the flanderized version of Dionysus. He's not stupid, but afraid. He drinks to forget his issues.
While this characterization can be very interesting taken separately, we must remember that this isn't an OC, but an interpretation of a cultural figure.
It must be accurate ! While I can accept some liberties, I think that those should mostly be an extension of the original material, not a total deviation.
Dionysus isn't a scared little boi or a stupid drunkard you can manipulate. In fact, that's quite the opposite. And he's not afraid to get his hands dirty.
(even if the "dirt" in question is the blood of his enemies).
Under the surface
Though it's rather "stuff you can find on Wikipedia". Or by reading the myths.
More about it in part 2 of the rant...
It'll be about theater, madness, travels, link between mortality and immortality and... pirates turning into dolphins.
The actual interesting stuff about Dionysus.
Edits :
1. Thanks to @st4riel-the-w1tchling for clarifying the situation about Percy Jackson. I made my own research about BoZ. My opinion is basically still the same. Again, nothing terribly offensive, but nothing that interesting for Dionysus either.
2. I made part 2 a while ago, might as well add it here :
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