#poison & wine part 16

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (aegon has a cold)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: aegon in love

- Next part: aegon is jealous

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995

Aegon lounges pathetically in his chamber, propped up by an unreasonable number of pillows, surrounded by the evidence of his misery. The usually bright and playful gleam in his eyes is dulled, his silver hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. A crimson flush colors his cheeks, but not from wine this time—no, it's from the fever that’s had him whining and moaning for hours. He coughs dramatically, letting out a moan that echoes through the chamber as if he’s on the brink of death.

Alicent stands at his bedside, her expression a mixture of concern and deep irritation. In her hand, she holds a small vial containing a thick, unpleasant-looking tonic, brought to her by Grand Maester Orwyle. She tries to smile, though it’s clear she’s struggling. “Aegon, you must take this tonic,” she says, her tone firm but coaxing. “It will bring down the fever.”

Aegon grimaces, turning his head to the side as though the very sight of the tonic might poison him on the spot. “No,” he mutters, voice muffled against the pillows. He pulls the blankets up to his chin like a petulant child. “It smells like the dungeons.”

Alicent’s smile tightens, and she takes a breath, clearly summoning her patience. “Aegon, you must be sensible. You’ll feel better once you take it. Orwyle says it will—”

But Aegon interrupts her with a dramatic groan, throwing an arm over his face. “No, Mother, I don’t want *Orwyle’s tonic! It’s foul, and it will probably kill me faster than the fever!” He opens one eye to gauge her reaction and, seeing her unimpressed look, he lets out an even louder groan. “Why don’t you just let me die in peace?”

Alicent's patience snaps, her voice growing sharper. “Aegon, stop being ridiculous. It’s just a tonic.”

Aegon, however, is already gearing up for a proper scene. He shifts dramatically under the covers, clutching his chest with a moan that would rival a dying knight on a battlefield. “I’m going to die, Mother, I can feel it. The fever’s too strong. I can barely lift my head. The end is near!” He pauses for dramatic effect before adding in a pitiful whine, “And if I am to die, I want Y/N here with me!”

Alicent blinks, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Y/N?” she repeats, as if she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. “Aegon, you need medicine, not—”

“I need Y/N!” Aegon insists, reaching out to grab his mother’s hand with a feverish desperation. “She knows how to take care of me. She’s warm, and she’ll make me feel better with her presence. And she’ll bring honey cakes!” He glances at the tonic in her hand with a scowl. “Not that awful sludge Orwyle calls medicine.”

Alicent pulls her hand back, her lips thinning into a displeased line. “Aegon, Y/N isn’t a healer. She’s not going to make your fever go away.”

Aegon, determined to be as difficult as possible, shifts to stare up at the ceiling, adopting a pitiful, far-off look. “Then let me waste away. Alone. Unloved. Without the touch of my sweet lioness by my side.”

Alicent pinches the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. “Aegon, you are not going to waste away. You have a cold, not greyscale.”

But Aegon is already in his own world of dramatics, ignoring her entirely. He clutches the blankets tighter, his voice dropping to a rasping murmur as if his strength is ebbing away. “Tell her I need her… Tell her it’s my last wish.” He glances sideways at his mother, his lips trembling with a pout that might almost be convincing if it weren’t so exaggerated. “You wouldn’t deny a dying man his last wish, would you, Mother?”

Alicent’s eye twitches, and she takes another breath, visibly trying to keep her composure. “You are not dying, Aegon. You’re being overdramatic.”

But Aegon ignores her, already raising his voice to the empty room. “Someone fetch Y/N!” he calls out to the ceiling. “Bring her here, or I shall succumb to this fever and perish before the day is done! I can feel the darkness closing in…”

Alicent looks heavenward as if praying for patience. She sets the vial of tonic down on the bedside table with a decisive thud, her expression turning steely. “Fine,” she says through gritted teeth. “I will send for Y/N, if it will stop you from this nonsense. But you will take the tonic when she arrives.”

Aegon’s face immediately brightens, his sudden smile undermining all his previous complaints. “Oh, thank you, Mother! You won’t regret it. Y/N will make everything better, you’ll see.”

Alicent gives him a tight smile that looks more like a grimace. “Yes, I’m sure she will,” she mutters, turning on her heel and leaving the chamber with an air of resignation. She doesn’t bother to hide the annoyance in her stride, the sharp click of her heels echoing through the hall as she goes to find the only person capable of soothing her impossible son.

As soon as she’s out of sight, Aegon relaxes back into the pillows with a contented sigh, a satisfied smile curling his lips. He reaches for the goblet of water by his bed and takes a sip, already picturing the way you’ll fuss over him and bring him sweet treats to “help with his strength.” For Aegon, being pampered by you is the cure to any illness—no tonic required.

You sweep into Aegon’s chambers with a swirl of your golden skirts, exuding the warm energy of someone who has absolutely no idea how to take care of a fever but is determined to make a show of it. Aegon, who is propped up in bed like a tragic hero, immediately brightens when he sees you. He looks as pitiful as ever, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a dramatic flush on his cheeks. The moment you step through the door, he gives a loud, exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re finally here!” he croaks, though his voice is suspiciously more robust than it was when Alicent was present. He reaches out a hand to you, his expression one of desperate longing. “I feared I would perish before you arrived.”

You smile indulgently, sitting yourself on the edge of the bed and taking his hand in yours, patting it as if he’s a fragile, wilting flower. “Oh, Aegon, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you’ll make a full recovery,” you reply sweetly, though there’s a teasing glint in your eyes. “But I brought honey cakes just in case.”

Aegon’s expression lights up immediately, and he clutches your hand even tighter. “See? You understand me better than anyone. You know exactly what I need.” He leans back against his pillows, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “I’ve been telling Mother that you are my cure.”

You cast a look over your shoulder, catching Alicent’s displeased expression as she lingers by the doorway, but you offer her a serene smile. “It’s only natural for a wife-to-be to tend to her betrothed, Your Grace.”

Alicent’s expression tightens, but before she can respond, there’s the sound of footsteps approaching, and Aemond strides into the room, his boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. He takes in the scene with a raised brow, his single eye sweeping over you and Aegon in bed, with Alicent hovering nearby looking thoroughly exasperated. Aemond’s lips twitch in what might have been amusement, though his tone is as dry as ever.

“I heard that my brother was on his deathbed,” Aemond says, a slight edge of mockery in his voice as he crosses his arms and looks down at Aegon. “But it seems he’s found his miracle cure.”

Aegon, never one to miss a chance to exaggerate, clutches your hand to his chest with renewed fervor. “Oh, Aemond, it was terrible. The fever—it was like dragonfire coursing through my veins. I thought I wouldn’t make it through the night!” He glances over at you, batting his lashes in a way that he probably thinks is charming. “But now that Y/N is here, I feel hope returning to me.”

You play along with a sympathetic look, pressing a cool cloth to Aegon’s forehead as if that might truly stave off the fever. “He’s been so brave, Aemond,” you say, though there’s a teasing lilt to your voice. “But I think he just needs a bit of pampering. And perhaps a few more of these honey cakes.”

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly unimpressed by the theatrics. He looks from you to Aegon with a resigned expression, then sighs. “Brother, you’ve caught a cold, not the Grey Plague. Surely even you can endure a little discomfort without turning it into a full-blown tragedy.”

Aegon shoots his brother a wounded look, releasing your hand to point accusingly in Aemond’s direction. “You just don’t understand, Aemond! You’re all… stoic and serious. You wouldn’t know what it’s like to suffer through this kind of agony.” He lets out another dramatic sigh, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “But Y/N understands. She knows how to take care of me.”

You pat Aegon’s hand again, your smile turning a little smug as you glance at Aemond. “Well, I can’t fault him for wanting a little comfort in his time of need, can I, Aemond? Surely you wouldn’t begrudge him that.”

Aemond’s gaze flickers with barely concealed amusement. “Oh, I don’t begrudge him anything, Y/N. I merely question whether he is truly in as much peril as he claims to be.” He arches a brow at Aegon, who is now picking at the edge of a honey cake, nibbling on it like a spoiled child.

Aegon, catching his brother’s skeptical look, scowls and quickly adopts a pitiful expression, pressing the cloth to his head as though that might convince Aemond of his dire condition. “You see? Even now, my head is pounding. I’m practically burning up! Feel my forehead, Y/N. It’s like touching the sun.”

You humor him, pressing your hand to his forehead with the most serious expression you can manage. “Hmm,” you murmur thoughtfully, as if considering a grave diagnosis. “Yes, it’s very warm indeed. It’s a wonder you’ve survived this long, Aegon.”

Aegon beams at your attention, thoroughly delighted by your pampering. “See, Aemond? Y/N understands. She’s the only one who truly cares about me.”

Aemond, however, just rolls his eye again, his expression one of long-suffering endurance. “If you’ve truly caught a fever, brother, then you should rest and stop talking so much.” He glances pointedly at the untouched vial of tonic on the bedside table. “And perhaps actually take the medicine that Orwyle prepared for you instead of relying solely on sweets.”

Aegon makes a face, shoving the tonic aside with a weak swipe of his hand. “I told you, that stuff is poison. I won’t drink it.” He turns to you, eyes wide and imploring. “You wouldn’t want me to suffer through that awful stuff, would you, Y/N?”

You offer Aegon a conspiratorial smile, tapping a finger to your lips. “Well, perhaps if you’re very good, I’ll bring you something that tastes better. A little wine, maybe?”

Aemond’s eye narrows at you both, clearly exasperated. “Yes, because what you need right now is more wine,” he mutters under his breath, though you catch the faintest twitch of his lips.

But Aegon’s already nodding eagerly, looking far more animated than any feverish man has a right to be. “Yes, yes, that’s what I need. Wine and Y/N. The two best remedies in the realm.”

Alicent, who has been silent but watching the entire exchange with a tightly controlled expression, finally speaks up, her voice clipped. “Aegon, please. Stop behaving like a child.”

Aegon gives her a wounded look, but his grip on your hand tightens as though you’re his only tether to this world. “But Mother, Y/N is taking such good care of me. Can’t you see how much better I feel already?” He turns his gaze back to you, his voice dropping to a more pitiful tone. “Y/N, don’t leave me. I need you.”

You give Aegon a reassuring pat, your tone soothing. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you, Aegon. Not until you’re feeling better.” Then, casting a look over your shoulder at Aemond, you add with a playful smile, “Besides, it’s not every day I get to dote on a king.”

Aemond meets your gaze, his mouth twisting into something resembling a smirk. “Indeed. Though I can’t say it’s doing wonders for his dignity.”

Aegon ignores the jab entirely, snuggling deeper into his blankets, content to have you by his side and blissfully unaware of the thinly veiled amusement on Aemond’s face—or the deep irritation on his mother’s. And you, for your part, settle in for what promises to be a thoroughly entertaining afternoon.

[ashiristic]

SNIPPET 16:

Warning;: Mentions of blood

The hero and villain challenge each other on who'll last longer in a kiss. Chaos ensues.

It was just a kiss, the hero's final thought before the villain's lips met his. Soft and intoxicating like poisoned red wine. This kiss wasn't filled with passion and hunger but was a fight for dignity and pride.

The hero's eyes remained open, occasionally biting and chewing on the villain's lips, just as his nemesis did. Their hands roamed each other's bodies, searching for something to hold onto in this battle. The hero's fist harshly gripped the villain's hair, pulling it downward, drowning in his nemesis' low grunts.

He always told himself the villain was ethereal beyond recognition. A siren luring him to the sea, making him lose control like a sculptor molding him anew. But he'd never admit it.

They eventually fell onto the mattress, staining the white sheets with congealed blood from their previous battle. Before all of this began, the villain struggled, breathing heavily as his chest lifted up and down. He wished to see the villain's debauched state, but he couldn't lose. Not yet.

It seemed the villain had a different idea. He hissed, feeling the villain's nails dig deeper into his wrist, drawing blood. The hero attempted to pull away, but the villain chased him, biting his reddened lips severely.

"Fuck," the hero muttered under his breath, catching a smirk from the villain.

The villain parted away from the hero, a string of saliva connecting them. He wiped his lips with his white long-sleeves, lolling his head a little on his shoulder. His bangs fell in place to cover his eyes, yet his debauched lips still displayed that irritating smirk.

"Funny," the villain said, taking advantage of the hero's trance state, pushing him away. "Can you even win against me—"

"You're the one who pulled away," the hero suddenly said, huffing a breath, trying to steady his rapid pulse.

The villain paused for a second, blinking his eyes. After a long ponder, he suddenly blushed, a profound crimson color dancing on his cheeks. His grip loosened on the hero's wrist, but an odd smile crept on his face, followed by a chuckle. He was certainly amused. On what? Then, he raised both of his hands in defeat.

"Right, I did," the villain stood up, walking towards the small white lamp in the corner of the room. He grabbed a candy randomly placed on the table, twisting it between his fingers. "And I admit defeat."

Odd. One word to describe it. He knew the villain was a person who would never admit defeat and would try to find a loophole. But today, he didn't do that. The hero wrapped his hand on his wounded lips, trying to wrap his head around the villain's action. Maybe he looked like a monstrous, sexually frustrated guy after he pulled away from him. That must be it (it's not).

"All of a sudden?" the hero leaned against the headboard, running his hand through his sweaty hair. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't confused. So, he asked, "Why?"

The villain halted before the open window. He bathed in silence, turning his head a little to the hero. "Why? What stupid question is that?"

And he continued unbuttoning his shirt with no care regarding the well-being of the person behind him. The sun had already set, but the warm light engraved on the dawn remained, embroidering the villain's skin with gold. Mesmerizing and otherworldly. That is what he is.

"Can't I be curious?"

"You wouldn't like it. You would be embarrassed if I told you," the villain shrugged, shaking his head a little.

The hero rolled his eyes, darting his gaze on the bookshelves, crossing his arms. He sat still for a few minutes, but his impatience lingered as he tapped his fingers against the side of the wooden cabinet beside the bed. And don't add the drowning sense of not knowing what to say to the villain once he finally breaks the silence. He should think of one now, for emergencies.

"It is because I pity you," the villain suddenly said, and smirked, before placing the candy on his tongue, savoring the sweetness. "You are such a bad kisser."

The audacity.

"Ten out of ten. Bravo joke."

"Oh, thank you," he placed his finger on his lips, laughing to himself. It was red with a fine line of deep rose on the middle of his bottom lip.

The hero watched the villain caressing his own lips before he froze and stopped, slapping his cheeks a little. What was wrong with him? And the villain veered towards the hero, fixing the collar of his shirt.

The villain grinned, "I have to go now—"

"We should do this again," he interrupted, blankly staring at the villain as he spoke. "You liked it, didn't you?"

The hero would lie to himself if he said that he didn't love it. Plus he was willing to sacrifice a few of his dignity to admit it. But the villain only smiled, his eyes not revealing anything on what he was thinking. The hero's heart plummeted in his chest, its hope bursting out of his chest cavity as he covered it with a smile.

"If you say so,"

Then he left. And the hero never felt happier.

[nico-is-typing]

"Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation", a guide

Notes:

The chapter summaries were written by the author and translated by the staff at the Mo Dao Zu Shi Wiki. This "guide" serves as a simplified overview.

To make it easier to access the information, this is divided into novel volumes. Aside from the list of chapters, and respective summaries, at the end you can find ALL FLASHBACKS (for people who, like myself, dislike flashbacks and need a previous warning).

Volume 1

Prologue

Wei Wuxian has died!

1. Reincarnation

Wei Wuxian is reincarnated into someone else's body.

2. The Intractable

Part 1: Wei Wuxian makes a scene in front of Gusu Lan disciples. Part 2: Evil spirit comes Part 3: Battle corpses

3. The Prideful

Part 1: I have a little donkey that I never ride Part 2: Wangji's long-awaited arrival Part 3: After washing my face, found out I was actually pretty handsome Part 4: Soul-eating woman Part 5: I am taking this person back to the Lan Clan

4. The Elegant Flirt

Part 1: Overbearing Hanguang-jun's crazy little escaping wife??? Part 2: Inviting death by crawling into his bed Part 3: First meeting as schoolmates Part 4: I hate you Part 5: Inviting death by provoking him Part 6: Teasing this Goody-two-shoes Part 7: Water spirit, loquat, muahh! Part 8: Rabbit, taking a beating, bye-bye!

5. The Sunny Pair

Part 1: Leaving the mountain to elope!!! Part 2: The husband duo leaves the mountain Part 3: Caressing your hand, huzzah! Let's go to a darker place together...╭(′▽`)╭(= =)╯ Part 4: Man-Eating Ridge

6. The Malevolent

Part 1: Rotten luck Part 2: Coming out alive Part 3: Nonchalantly shedding fake identity + princess carry Part 4: Unveiling the secret of the Man-Eating Ridge of Qinghe Part 5: Aaaahhhhh! What else is buried in the walls?!

7. The Morning Dew

Part 1: Come~~ be happy~~ let's drink wine~~ Part 2: "Sir, what's your last name?" "It's... Lan" Part 3: The extermination of the Chang clan, gravedigger, summoning Wen Ning again Part 4: Lan Zhan... is drunk......... Part 5: "You were so wild last night, Hanguang-jun"

Volume 2

8. The Stalk of Grass

Part 1: Foggy ghost city Part 2: Paper effigies Part 3: Paper effigy shop and sticky rice porridge Part 4: Who's outside the door? Bamboo pole clacks Part 5: Who are you, and who are you? Who the f**k are you guys really? Part 6: Secrets start unveiling Part 7: Yi City's story Part 8: Frost Blood Parts 9: Trash Yang incites the wrath of heaven and people Part 10: The husband duo decapitates Trash Yang, Xing-Lan-Qing gets sorted out, Yi City Arc complete

9. The Allure

Part 1: Wangji drunkenly hits Wen Ning, Xiao-Wanjun binds Wei Ying at night Part 2: Special program: "Drunk" by Lan Wangji, "Interrogation" by Wei Wuxian, "Kiss" joint performance Part 3: Take off my headband, you become mine!!!

10. The Beguiling Boy

Part 1: Headless man Part 2: Secret room, head Part 3: The Venerated Triad Part 4: A mutual fan-turned-anti story Part 5: A mutual fan-turned-anti story, complete

Volume 3

11. Supreme Courage

Part 1: Previous life Part 2: The beast at the end of the deep cavern Part 3: Wicked beast and biting Wan-jun, piggyback leads to heart aflutter Part 4: Tease. Flirt. Escape. Bite. Yell. Wail~ Part 5: Kill after finishing teasing, tease after finishing killing.

12. Sandu: The Three Poisons

Part 1: A storm is brewing Part 2: All hell breaks loose. A great slap Part 3: Upheaval at home Part 4: Wen Ning Part 5: Dead end

13. Ill Winds

Part 1: Rise of the evil and charming wickification Part 2: Continuing that rise of evil and charming wickification

14. Soft

Part 1: Inseparably in love Part 2: Sinister melody Part 3: Set out Part 4: Pouncing into a grass pile is a type of romance Part 5: Dig graves and eat melon Part 6: Crusade against

15. Peony for the Soon Departed

Part 1: Everyone, I like flashbacks Part 2: Shadow Part 3: Tossing flower from the balcony

Volume 4

16. The Unruly

Part 1: Crashing a feast Part 2: Defect

17. Distance

Part 1: Two people taking care of a little one together Part 2: Goodbye my love

18. Night Flight

Part 1: Wei Wuxian, lifelong anti-fan of Jin Zixuan, says "I won't troll Jin Zixuan for a year" Part 2: Wickification maxed Part 3: Die with her, everyone!

19. Core of the Truehearted

Part 1: Flashback ends, back to the present Part 2: Unmask Part 3: The crowd of corpses at Burial Mounds Part 4: Battle against the fierce corpses Part 5: A-Yuan, A-Yuan Part 6: Blinding the children by showing off Part 7: Spilling secret Part 8: Don't you know? Once you have a boyfriend, you must take him to see where you grew up Part 9: Pay respect towards heaven, saving mutual salute between couples for later Part 10: The truth behind the golden core Part 11: Jiang Cheng is shook

20. Day and Night

Part 1: Stealing lotus pods Part 2: One inn, one room Part 3: One is handsome, one is charming, therefore they should do something Part 4: Drunken Ji Part 5: Stealing jujube and chicken Part 6: Love bathing Part 7: Overthink Part 8: Now Wei Wuxian can't leave Lan Wangji

Volume 5

21. Hensheng: To Hate Life

Part 1: Time to beat Yao-meimei Part 2: Discipline whip scars Part 3: Confession Part 4: Rescue failed Part 5: I'm sorry. I broke my word. Part 6: But, those are all things in the past Part 7: It is all you guys' fault Part 8: Boss's dignity Part 9: All gathered in one hall

22. Hidden Edge

Part 1: Everyone fights older Nie together Part 2: Nie Mingjue f**k you #%@&#*&@ Part 3: Seal the coffin Part 4: Everyone has their own path

23. Wangxian: Forgetting Envy

Part 1: Every day is every day Part 2: Sweet Part 3: The ballad of Wangxian was as long as the journey here, now the song has ended but the couple are together at last

Extras

Family Banquet

Part 1: Honeymoon, going back to check up on Hubby's family (○｀3′○） Part 2: Honeymoon, day-to-day accounts Part 3: Daily lives of the lovey-dovey husband duo

The Incense Burner

Part 1: Let's gather around and watch Er-gege's () dream Part 2: Yiling Patriarch Xian vs Young Wangji, KO

Villainous Friends

The daily lives of the evil duo, committing crimes and wiping evidence

Gate Crasher

Part 1: A small night-hunt after Wangxian goes into seclusion Part 2: Catching creatures with Sizhui Part 3: You're a virgin? :P

The Iron Hook

Part 1: Patriarch's night-hunt course Part 2: Second night-hunt notes

Lotus Seeds

Summertime of youth

Yunmeng

A dream among clouds, a dream come true

From Dawn till Dusk

Cuddling and grading papers

Flashbacks

Vol. 1

From "The Elegant Flirt, Part 3" to "The Elegant Flirt, Part 8"

Flashback to the beginning of the Cloud Recesses' Arc. Includes: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji's first meeting at around fifteen years old.

Between "The Morning Dew, Part 2" and "The Morning Dew, Part 3"

Lan Wangji (re)tells the story of Xiao Xingchen and the massacre of the Yueyang Chang Clan.

Vol. 2

From "The Stalk of Grass, Part 6" to "The Stalk of Grass, Part 9"

Past memories, from performing Empathy on A-Qing (ghost) Includes: The expanded story of Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing, Xue Yang, and Song Lan; What is really happening in Yi City.

In "The Allure, Part 3"

Minor flashback to the archery contest, at the Qishan Wen Clan's Discussion Conference. Includes: One of the first forehead-ribbon incidents

From "The Beguiling Boy, Part 3" to "The Beguiling Boy, Part 5"

Past memories, from Nie Mingjue (non-consensual Empathy) Includes: Meng Yao's back story; A look into sworn-brotherhood; What really happened to Nie Mingjue?

Vol. 3

From "Supreme Courage, Part 1" to "III Winds, Part 2"

Flashback to Wei Wuxian's first life. Includes: Nightless City Arc (Wen Clan of Qishan); Burial Mounds, the first appearance; The demise of Wen Chao; Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji realizing Wei WuxIan has changed.

From "Peony for the Soon Departed, Part 1" to "Peony for the Soon Departed, Part 3"

Flashback to Wei Wuxian's first life. Includes: Archery competition, the full story; A sneaky kiss; Jin Zixun being the worst.

Vol. 4

From "The Unruly, Part 1" to "The Unruly, Part 3"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian". Includes: Crashing the Jin banquet; Qiongqi Path (freeing the remnants of Qishan Wen Clan); Turning the Burial Mounds into a home; Cultivation World leaders start scheming; Jiang Cheng wants to fight.

From "Distance, Part 1" to "Distance, Part 2"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian" continues. Includes: Lan Wangi visiting the Burial Mounds; Accidentally adopting a child together; "Rich-gege"; Jiang Yanli is a bride now.

From "Night Flight, Part 1" to "Night Flight, Part 3"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian" continues. Includes: Wei Wuxian tries to be a good uncle; Ambush at Qiongqi Path; R.I.P Jin Zixuan and good-riddance Jin Zixun; The Wen siblings surrender; Wei Wuxian says goodbye to his remaining sanity (Yanli deserved better); Bloodbath of Nightless City ensues.

There's no actual flashbacks in Vol. 5. Still, some of the Extras take place in the past.

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 16

“At least it can’t get any worse.” [part 2 of 3]

<<< previous | next >>>

Contains: death mention, poison mention

WC: 790

The unmistakable sapor of a curse

“Don’t embarrass me, all right?”

The ballroom was lively, overflowing with the swish of silks through the perfume-scented air and the scuff of leather over the gleaming tile floor. Everywhere one looked, there was beauty to be found: the luscious regalia of wealthy lords and ladies, gold and silver platters heaped with the most astonishing assortments of food ever beheld, glowing candles in every colour the mind could imagine, and the beaming smiles of the satisfied rich who danced merrily, now well wined and well fed.

One particularly contented guest was the food taster of a visiting lord. The young nobleman had been invited in his father’s stead, since the elder gentleman had fallen ill of late and was too frail to attend such a fête as this. The food taster was thrilled—and awed—to attend a ball at the royal palace, of all places; he’d spent his childhood in the significantly less opulent pastures of the rural north.

At least, he had until he was thirteen, when word reached the local government of his extraordinary palette, which perceived not only ordinary scents and flavours . . . and not only poison.

He, a farm boy from nowhere, could sense magic, and, if circumstances were agreeable, manipulate or even sever it. A dangerous power, yet an undeniably useful one, and from then on, the farm boy had become a generally well-compensated food taster with a fascinating collection of side skills.

Standing amongst the most powerful men and women in the entire realm was marvellous, of course. However, he was simply relieved to have made it through the dinner without ingesting any deadly poisons or—far more likely—choking to death on his own nerves.

“What makes you think I’d do anything to embarrass you?” he replied with a grin, more cocksure now he’d survived the meal. He and the governor’s son were mere months apart in age, and they’d been fast friends since their first meeting. It rather came with the territory; he’d have been far less likely to risk a horrible death by poison every single day if he utterly loathed the person he was supposed to protect.

Unfortunately, friendship carried with it the tendency toward brutal honesty, and his employer launched into a long list of ways his food taster might make fools of them both, including  such deplorable personal deficiencies as his pitiful ability to carry a conversation that wasn’t about poison or magic, his poor taste in party dress, and his abominable attempts at dancing.

The food taster only heard half of it, for two very peculiar things happened at once.

One: he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Two: his senses prickled, a sour tang coating his tongue, the taste making his eyes water—the unmistakable sapor of a curse.

“Where are you going?” asked the governor’s son, and the food taster realized he’d taken a few unintentional steps away. “I’m not even halfway through.”

 With magic tingling so strongly in his every nerve, all the food taster could say was: “Who is that?”

The governor’s son followed his gaze to the lithe, graceful form slinking delicately through the room, taking in the blood-red gown, the fresh roses in her hair, the glitter of fine jewellery on her arms and neck. Her skin seemed impossibly pristine, like she was utterly untouched by sunlight—a girl who spent a lavish, luxurious life indoors.

Some rich nobleman’s daughter, no doubt. Much higher in wealth and status than a food taster from the dusty north could ever hope to be, no matter how valuable the governor deemed him.

“Her? Good luck with that, mate,” his friend said, bursting into a laugh. “She’s going to run the other way the moment she spots you. She’ll be able to smell that you were born in a barn.”

Transfixed by the girl and dazed by the puzzling presence of a curse, he neglected to remind his friend that he’d been born outside the garden shed, not inside the barn. “I’m going to ask her to dance.”

“Don’t you dare!” exclaimed the governor’s son. “What did I just say? Don’t embarrass me here, of all places.”

He reached out to grab the food taster’s arm, but he missed by a hairsbreadth, and the food taster darted through the crowd, snickering to himself as his friend groaned, “Damn him, the bumbling, unrefined idiot. Could he have picked anyone worse? Look at her. He’s going to get himself thrown out.”

“Well, you said it yourself,” said the steward who’d accompanied them to the capitol. When the food taster peeked back, still grinning, he saw the old man shaking his head. “He’ll learn his lesson quick. Can’t get any worse from there.”

June of Doom Masterlist

<<< previous | next >>>

@juneofdoom

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[cauldronblssd]

Ch 16 - Found in the Sunlight

The time has come for you to lipsync for your life for the mating ceremony.

Read on AO3

Excerpt:

“Stop that” Lucien looked without turning his face to his left, muttering from the corner of his mouth.   

“You stop.” Jurian intoned, jabbing him again in the side with his elbow for good measure. “You look creepy standing so still. She’s not going to run off if you move.”   

Lucien turned his head fully to his friends, giving him what he hoped was his sternest look.  

He heard Eris huffing next to him. “You’ve forgotten your manners, Jurian. The most powerful people in Prythian are watching you right now.”   

“You’ll only encourage him with that talk.” Vassa piped up. Jurian grinned, but before he could start his retort, the orchestra began to play, indicating Elain would soon enter. Lucien straightened his shoulders, taking one last look around him. He willed his mind to empty of all his racing thoughts, worrying that this was all terribly wrong. He feared seeing her as much as he longed for it, afraid her displeasure for him and this ceremony would be evident. Just today, he wanted to pretend that she truly cared for him, that she accepted the bond out of something other than obligation. Even on the day of their ceremony, a part of him urged him to wait, to call off this whole thing. He felt greedy, taking what she offered with nothing to give her in return. Who could love a broken male like him, anyway?   

Elain stepped into view, and every doubt slipped from his mind. All he could see was her. Everything about her was radiant. The sun gleamed behind her, casting a glow around the golden-brown curls of her hair. Her face had a healthy flush, he supposed from nerves, but it only made her lovelier, setting off the freckles on her cheeks. She walked towards him, and he felt all the surprise and the awe he’d experienced the moment the bond first snapped. Mate. Mate. Mate.  

He struggled to keep his face impassive, to keep himself from falling to his knees before her in that moment. Her steps were slow as she moved towards him, his mate, who he’d waited centuries of his life to meet, with her kind heart and her fierce spirit. He must have looked a mess, because to his surprise, Elain looked at him and winked as she arrived to stand next to him. He couldn’t help but laugh. He leaned into her for a moment, whispering for only her to hear, “You look beautiful.”   

He started to pull away, but Elain held his arm, bringing him back close to her, and whispered, “So do you.” Her words spread like warmth throughout his body. Before he knew it, Gwyn had begun the ceremony, calling upon the Mother to bless their bond, invoking words he didn’t bother listening to. He could only look at Elain, who stared at him intently in turn. Lucien’s heart beat fiercely in his chest as Gwyn instructed them to join their hands as she tied them with ribbon, Elain’s smaller and fitting perfectly inside his own. He gave her palm a gentle squeeze, and she squeezed back, before they faced their friends and family once again. The moment they turned away, he felt was a strong thump on his back as Cassian walked over to him, giving him his widest grin, “Welcome to the family, Foxboy!”  

Before he had a chance to respond, a much smaller set up arms encircled him, wrapping in between his arm and Elain’s. He laughed, hugging back Feyre, who beamed at him as if she were drunk of faerie wine. Perhaps she was. Lucien couldn’t help but smile back at her, his once human friend, feeling all the ways that fate had pulled them together to this moment. He felt a pull on his arm, and looked to his right to see Elain’s arms trapped to her sides in a very firm embrace by Nesta, who was whispering something in her ear, a recipe for poison or some kind of incantation, no doubt. Elain, perhaps used to this kind of attention from her sister, just leaned in, resting her head against Nesta’s cheek, submitting herself to her fervent affection. Once she’d released her, Nesta took the two steps over to him, offering him a stern but approving nod before offering her hand out to shake. The action was so human, Lucien might not have known how to respond but a few years prior. Instead, he took her hand in his as she shook it firmly, and he patted her on the shoulder for good measure. Nesta must have been in an especially generous mood because she didn’t punch him for it.   

Glad though he was to see his friends there to celebrate with him, especially those he hadn’t seen in years, all he could think about was being alone with his mate. He’d hardly had a chance to touch her yet, beyond the joining of their hands. He needed to kiss her, to hold her, to accept the food she’d offered and sink into the frenzy he’d been thinking of for weeks. He jealously wanted to place himself in between her and any of the people coming to touch her and greet her. All those instincts he normally kept under control roiled beneath the surface, demanding his attention. Guests came to greet them in turn, and he couldn’t help but eye Mor suspiciously as she placed her hand on Elain’s shoulder, telling her how beautiful she looked.   

Eris seemed to catch the direction of his thoughts, because he smirked, before coming over and handing his an amber glass of liquor. “You’re thinking very loudly, brother. I’m not one to defend Morrigan, but I think your mate is safe.”  

Lucien frowned, though he conceded the point. He took a deep drink of his liquor, scanning the room for the guests approaching next. His mood only worsened to see Helion standing behind Mor, not bothering to disguise his appraising look of her tight red dress. Gods above. Perhaps he didn’t give Mor enough credit, because just as Helion had come to congratulate Lucien and Elain, Mor seemed to signal to him, summoning Helion over to her with a flirtatious smile. Helion offered the pair a polite smile and curt congratulations before changing course with a booming laugh to Mor and following her to the other side fo the room.  

He couldn’t help but smile with pride at Elain, as she greeted each guest with thoughtful questions about their court, her hours of studying already at work. She smiled prettily and accepted their compliments graciously. If the ceremony or their joined hands bothered her, she gave nothing away. Feeling the pull towards her, Lucien tucked her in closer to him. She looked up at him with an affectionate smile and his breath caught in his throat. Could you be happy with me? He wanted to ask. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his lips to the soft dimple of her cheeks as she smiled, something he’d dreamt of doing every time he’d seen it. Rather than pulling away, as she had every right to do, she made a happy humming sound before looking away bashfully.   

He could see more guests approaching, but he pulled her gently to face him, encircling her other hand in his. For a moment, he stood just staring at her, taking in the warm brown of her eyes and the soft curve of her cheeks. He lifted the hand that held hers, tugging her by the waist closer to him. The lace of her dress bunched slightly under his fingers, the soft warmth of her body permeating underneath. She came readily, though her eyes widened slightly in surprise. She smelled intoxicating from this close, the jasmine and honey scent surrounding him. Elain lifted her face towards his, looking up at him expectantly. He had not planned his move beyond this one, needing her closer, to look at him and away from the guests for a moment. He leaned in towards her, gripping his fingers tighter around her waist. “I’m having trouble sharing you.”   

Elain exhaled, blinking at him thoughtfully. “Is that so?”   

Lucien reached up to toy with a strand of her hair. “Indeed. Dance with me?”

[koiyan-hades-kid-with-a-system]

🌕🥀Oc introduction🥀🌕

Name: Koiyan Anastasia Ryoko Xing

Age: 16 (37th reincarnation)

Height: 5'0 foot

Pronouns: She/They/Star

Godly Blood: Child of Hades, Legacy of Poseidon, Legacy of Ông Tử Vi, Legacy of Dionysus

Fatal flaw: Grudges

Species: Eastern Star Crow Dragon and part vampire

Minor goddess of: Poison, wishes, certain ocean animals, rice wine, rice, sake, plushies, dimensions, universes, spite, vampires, and crisises

Position in Camp: Head counselor of the Hades Cabin, Runs The Blood Bank (we say that bc the money is made out of blood) It has a new installment of a boba stand called Half-Blood Boba and Tea!

Powers: Money production (Can create drachmas out of their blood), Necromancy, Geokinesis, Umbrakineisis/Sciakinesis, Shadow travel, Death prediction, Bone manipulation

Blessed/Cursed by: Uranus, Hera, Apollo, Ares, Nyx, Zagreus, Malora, and Dionysus.

Powers from the blessings: Dying in the most stupidest way or gruesome way. Manipulating feathers in and out of headspace form, Making weapons out of my blood, Laser sun beams, Summoning meteor showers (not ever using this), Blood manipulation, Grow trees in peoples lungs (I will never use this), Turning fruit into Starlight Fruit, And turning fruit into animals.

Starlight fruit is an enhanced version of fruit that can give random buffs or abilities to whoever consumes it. It is always shaped like stars. Think of it as random wish granting stars you can eat

Gods/Titans she hates/dislikes: Zeus, Helios, Uranus, Dionysus, Hermes (HE GOT ME SICK ON MOLY) and Sun Wukong in a silly hehe haha way still love him/p

Weapons: Celestial bronze bident (Can turn into a hair stick), Bladed fan engraved with constellations and roses as the stars, Space sword (Gifts from Astraios, the god of stars and wind), Giant ass battle-axe three heads taller than themself (Found at an abandoned battlefield), Celestial bronze claws, Roserade Dawnbreaker (a talking sword that attached itself to me for some reason-). Skull crossbow, skull knives, daggers, Magic grimore that Hecate gave her

Personality: Feral, defensive, grouch, moody, all in all just self-destructive but hides it under a mask of sass and upbeat nature when in reality she's just cursing you out in Viet. She is possessive af comes with the dragon liniage on her moms side so she can and will attack you if you tresspass on her property. Biting is a love language. Especially for her. expect Zagreus to have bites on his arms or a Koiyan hanging on his arm just by her bite alone.

We have occasional depressive episodes

Clashing Complexes she has: God Complex, Inferiority complex, Superiority Complex

Powers from DID: when people front or co-front some of their physical characteristics transfer onto the body. When fully fronting their eyes change to the color of who is fronting and the characteristics. Ex. Miguel. Her eyes are red and she's taller with tanner skin and more brunette hair. Claws are included when Miguel fronts. Can turn into her headspace form. Alters can split from the host and manifest in a physical form. Animals like to follow her out of headspace so be weary of them.

Fun facts: I have a mild pollen allergy that makes me have colds :(. Oldest of the hades kids :). My original name was Evangeline. I got to chose my last name after 8 reincarnations.

My art and writing blog: @astarwritingtheirpuppetsfate

The alters list: @wildwoodshotelsystem-tm

My alters that participate in PJO rp!:

@zagreus-god-of-blood-rebirths my brother 😐

@thanatos-greek-grim-reaper brother in law😐

@asaki-daughter-of-emo-gods my niece🖤🖤🖤🖤

@jinkas-heart-filled-meadows my REAL wifey 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

@estrellita-the-north-star baby girllllllll✨✨✨✨✨✨

@anderes-ares-biker-himbo-son best boy 🫶🫶🫶/p

@little-starshark-with-wings baby princess of ithica 👑🌕⭐️

@malora-of-apples-and-ecstasy She possesses me :D

@flower-of-my-eye the moly dealer

Actual ocs i hope-:

@natures-porcelain-puppet SCARAMOUCHE DUUUUUPE- (love them tho-)💚💚💚

@yue-the-moons-child YUEEEE (my girlfriend turned into the moon, that's rough buddy) 🌙 🌙 🌙 🌙

@camp-sky-heaven-on-earth Camp Sky, where i reside to get away from the drama☀️🌕🪷☁️☁️☁️☁️

@apurelyricwanderinginthelight Toula dear, being an mc will bring things i am sorry in advance

When Im on other blogs that I tagged/own up here, I talk like this

Oc Pintrest

Kois Kreatures

🥀🌕OOC introdution🌕🥀

Name: Koiyan/Government name that I will not disclose

Age:15

Pronouns: She/They/Star

Likes: PJO, Ride The Cyclone, Drawing, Writing, Theatre and Musical theatre.

Yes we do have DID, Dissociative identity disorder, it is also on the other blog.

I don't want to too political on here so please don't ask me to share your go fund me on here this is my blog where i have fun not be too serious i just dont want to be too political

tags!

#attention the did bitch is speaking ‼️‼️‼️ -is for regular posts in character

#flames of the past -is past character lore

#incorrect quotes-obviously for the incorrect quotes i do

#koiyans kracking- "As life goes on, her sense of self cracks like her brain all those lives ago" actual rping not just posts

[ruthlesslistener]

lurien/pale king, 1, 16, 34?

My boiiis! Love them <3

1. Describe their first date.

-They've had many an incident that would probably count as accidental dates, but their first actual courtship date would be an extremely awkward affair where PK goes to the Tower dressed in the nines (courtesy of WL), Lurien grooms himself excessively and then hides it all under a full body cloak, and despite there being wine and sweets out with the clear idea of this supposed to be a Good Time, they spend the entire time awkwardly avoiding looking at each other before finally getting into a very serious conversation about the nature of what this relationship is going to mean, how there's an inherent difference between their affections as a result of their species and power divide, and all the contingency plans to prevent said relationship from affecting the kingdom or putting Lurien himself in harm. PK would most likely have Lurien swear a binding oath to place the kingdom and himself before him, and then tell him all the ways to wound or kill him if necessary. Then they'd both make each other swear oaths to kill each other if needed to secure the safety of the populace and would part ways without touching each other. Great job, boys.

16. Would they ever get matching tattoos? If yes, what would these look like?

-Bugverse no, gijinkaverse yes; or, at the very least, in gijinkaverse Lurien would get a tattoo of the Pale Wyrm, because he's a powerful sorcerer who gets most of said power from directly invoking the power of the Pale King (is that what a paladin is? idk i dont play dnd) so it's not just about devotion and romance, it's also a vast help for spellcasting. PK's tattoo would be more metaphorical in that Lurien's influence on him is a mark on his mind and soul, one that he likely strung protective wards around to prevent him from overwhelming and/or harming Lurien.

(With bugverse its a no not because tattoos don't exist, but because Lurien is mostly made of fluff and PK's carapace is so tough that the only thing that would be capable of carving or staining it would be the fang of a wyrm dipped in void. The soul-link between him and Lurien is still there tho)

34. Do they have any inside jokes?

-Oh you bet your fucking ass they have inside jokes. They have so many inside jokes. You'd never know that they were inside jokes, because they're all extremely flat-toned sarcastic remarks about irritating things they have to deal with when running the kingdom, but they bring amusement, so damnit they count. Also among the mix is the inside joke of PK constantly trying to find ways to arm Lurien with various rudimentary firearms to augment his soulcasting while Lurien tries to get him to stop experimenting with explosives to begin with, which is a futile game that is almost entirely ritualized and for show at this point.

(so far they've settled for a miniature lightweight crossbow that Lurien can keep under his robes and load with poison darts if needed, but PK keeps trying to push for a rudimentary flintlock pistol, and Lurien keeps refusing on the basis of being very flammable)

Ship ask game

[lokidokieokie]

Fic Recs

Hey guys! Below the cut, you’ll find my fic recs for the weeks of the 16/01 - 29/01

beware there are a few because of this :)

Loki Laufeyson

RTC: Stay with Me by @muddyorbsblr 

For Better or Worse by @wheredafandomat masterlist linked

Little Miss Mischief by @psychospore 

Moments of Magic by @sarahscribbles 

Hot & Cold by @wheredafandomat part 1 linked

Practice Makes Perfect by @simplyholl part 1 linked

Crossed Swords by @lokisgoodgirl

Drugs of Love, Love of Drugs by @pics-and-fanfics masterlist linked

Rest, Darling by @fictive-sl0th 

Miss You by @michelleleewise 

A Beacon of Light by @psychospore 

Bad Blood by @pics-and-fanfics part 1 linked

Of the Birds and the Bees by @holdmytesseract 

The Curse of Your Love by @wheredafandomat 

Special Treat by @marvelslittlewhore 

Secret in the Royal Library by @psychospore 

Crossed Swords: To the Hilt by @lokisgoodgirl 

Keep the Faith by @theaudacitytowrite 

Arrogance Incarnate by @lucky-bucky-boy 

In a Different Light by @psychospore 

Never Gonna Get it by @wheredafandomat​ 

The Secret by @bonky-n-steeb​ 

Poison & Wine by @hela-avenger​ masterlist linked

Stephen Strange + his Variants

Congratulations to Us by @withalittlehoney 

Too Tired by @ironstrange1991 

Tied Together by @withalittlehoney​ 

Sherlock

Corrupted Evidence by @bakerstreethound 

Darling You Taste Devine by @strangelockd 

Bucky Barnes

More Than Anythin’ by @wheredafandomat 

Nemesis by @wheredafandomat 

Twelfth Floor by @wheredafandomat 

Dirty Little Secret by @buckybabesonly 

Almost Believing by @intrepidacious 

My Girlfriend, The Worm by @vivwritesfics

Dog Tags by @vxntagedior 

Flash Bang by @crushedbyhyperbole 

Untitled by @buckyalpine 

Wait, What? by @buckyalpine part 1 linked

Mr Barnes, Teacher Aide of the Year by @soulgazingwithbucky 

Punching Bag by @buckysbabygorl 

Bucky Has a Girlfriend? by @sweetbuckybarnes 

The Bet by @wkemeup 

What’s Yours is Mine by @navybrat817 

Little Lavender Friend by @thepsychewrites 

The Museum by @subwaysurf45 series masterlist linked

Lessons in Love. by @violentdelightsandviolentends 

Protector by @vxntagedior 

Are You Mine by @marvelouslizzie 

All Things Pink by @bucky-barnes-diaries 

Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader by @itsapeterthing​ masterlist linked

Beyond the Moon, Upon the Sea by @bbyboybucket​ 

Tenure Track by @disturbedbydesign​ 

Just One Kiss by @sarahwroteathing​ masterlist linked

Victim Behind the Gun by @seventven​ 

Tempestuous by @sinner-as-saint​ part 1 linked

Honey, There is No Right Way by @bonky-n-steeb​ part 1 linked

Until His Last Breath by @witchywithwhiskey​ 

All the King’s Men by @nastybuckybarnes​ part 1 linked

Parent Teacher Conference by @coffeecatsandcandles​ part 1 linked

Moon Knight Boys

Moon Struck by @softlyspector part 1 linked

A/N In case you cannot tell, I’ve re-entered by Bucky Barnes phase :)

And, as per usual, please show all these fabulous authors your support by commenting and reblogging their amazing fics!

See you next week! (hopefully, if I don’t forget again)

[jumpingjollyrancher]

Day 16: jerk

Apollo's jumpier than he used to be. He can't give a reason why. Things are the same, better even since the Calamity. The itch between his shoulder blades is a phantom. There aren't actually eyes always watching from the shadows. He could cure any injury, any poison in moments. He is all but a god.

Still the feeling persists. It builds until he feels like a bowstring ready to snap. He lies on bed, listening for odd noises and footsteps. His dreams are fire consuming his home and his things. Stars fall and fall and fall.

Apollo smiles through each day regardless. He ignores the itch, the burn, and the paranoia. It's nothing.

Someone puts something in Nanamo's wine with only he as witness. She's barely on the floor for a heartbeat when the guards slam the doors open. They won't let him heal her, won't let him even touch her. The pieces snap together in an ugly picture.

His arms are jerked behind his back, twisted until it hurts. He bites his lip rather than cry out. This is a show for someone and he will play his preferred part. He's never accepted anyone else's offered role. As he's dragged down a familiar route toward the great hall, Apollo finds himself relaxed for the first time in weeks.

[florelia12]

Poison & Wine 🥂

Hii! So, I’ve finally gotten around to rewriting this story that I’ve been obsessed with forever. Best part is that I’ve re-done my outline and have planned out the chapters ( final number is 16 chapters including a prologue and epilogue) and I’ve gotten my best friend to be my Beta/Editor so hopefully the quality is going to be much better.

I’ll be deleting the old fic on both a03 and ffn once I upload the new version. The story has taken a different turn and I had to change some stuff in the first chapter even though most of it remains the same (gonna completely throw out chapter 2 cuz i hated it so much)

Anyways, I’ll be able to get the prologue and 1st chapter up by the next weekend (it’s in the editing stages). In terms of an update schedule, fingers crossed that I can get them up every other week or latest every month. I know its not often enough but I’ve got quite a few things going on although I’m kind of taking a gap year (more like 6 months)

With faith that this time around this story gets off on a better start, here’s a small excerpt from the prologue

Prologue: A Glimpse Of Us

Your mind is a battlefield. Be its commander, not its soldier.

The words of his Great Uncle echoed in his head, the same words he’d heard since he was a child. A command, a plea and a warning at the same time.

Helia had lived by those words all his life; Had given his blood, sweat and tears to make sure he was always in control of his mind. He knew of the consequences should he fail; not only would others suffer for his mistakes but that eternal insanity awaited him if he were to ever lose his mind. Everyone had warned him from birth to never lose his mind.

Yet, no one warned him that what would hurt infinitely more would be losing his heart.

***

Also shoutout to @floralovebot because all credits to the idea of necromancer Helia goes to them and thanks for being supportive of me using the idea <3333

[novaursa]

Fire and Gold (coat of gold and three heads)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Paring: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: to flip a coin

- Next part: not a soul to hear

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @naviaberries

Cersei’s wine splashed against the rim of her goblet as she stalked through the hall, her irritation bubbling just below the surface. The conversation with the Targaryen princess still lingered in her mind, souring her mood as the music and laughter of the feast grated on her nerves. She had hoped to find some satisfaction in prodding at the woman’s grief, in reminding her that she was not untouchable, not invincible. But the satisfaction had been fleeting, drowned out by the seething anger that always seemed to rise within her whenever she thought of that woman.

Her eyes scanned the crowd until they settled on a familiar figure standing near one of the great columns that framed the hall. Jaime. He stood watch, as he always did, clad in his white armor, his face set in a mask of impassivity. But Cersei knew him better than anyone, and she could see the tension in his posture, the weariness in his eyes.

She made her way over to him, her gown swishing behind her, her anger barely contained. Jaime’s gaze shifted to her as she approached, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly schooled his expression.

“Cersei,” he greeted her softly, dipping his head just slightly in acknowledgment. His voice was careful, the formality of the Kingsguard slipping into his tone, a habit he had adopted since her marriage to Robert. It grated on her nerves even more.

“Jaime,” she replied, her voice low and sharp. She cast a quick glance around to make sure no one was within earshot, then fixed him with a glare. “I just had the pleasure of speaking with our dear Targaryen princess. She’s poisoning Rhaegar against me, I’m certain of it. You should have seen the way he looked at me, as if I were some viper in their midst. She’s turning him against us, and he listens to every word she says.”

Jaime sighed, rubbing a hand over the bridge of his nose, the weariness in his eyes deepening. “Cersei, it’s over. It’s been over for years. Rhaegar was never interested in you, not truly. You need to let this go.”

Cersei’s face twisted with rage, and she stepped closer to him, her voice dropping to a furious hiss. “You sound like Tyrion,” she snapped, the name falling from her lips like a curse. “Always so reasonable, always so quick to remind me of my place. You think I haven’t seen how they look at me? How they whisper about our family? As if we are the villains in this story.”

Jaime’s eyes flashed with a mixture of irritation and concern, and he glanced around, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. “You should watch what you say, Cersei,” he warned, his voice low but firm. “Since the prince’s death, there are eyes and ears everywhere. This is not the time for careless words.”

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp enough to cut through the music and revelry. “I don’t care, Jaime. Let them listen. If the gods had any sense of justice, they would have taken her instead of that wretched boy. She is the one who doesn’t belong here, not me.”

Jaime’s expression darkened, and he reached out to grip her arm, his touch firm but not unkind. “Cersei, stop this,” he urged, his voice edged with frustration and something close to desperation. “Do you hear yourself? You’re letting this hatred consume you. If anyone hears you—”

She wrenched her arm free, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and pain. “What difference does it make?” she hissed, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. “I am married to a drunken fool, and she—she—has the life I should have had. The life that was promised to me. Why should I care if they hear me?”

Jaime’s gaze softened, and for a moment, he looked like the brother she remembered from their childhood, the one who had always sought to protect her, even when she pushed him away. But now there was something else in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place, a sadness that cut through her anger.

“I’m trying to protect you, Cersei,” he said quietly. “Even if you don’t want it. Even if you think you don’t need it. But if you keep on like this, you’re going to get hurt.”

Cersei’s mouth twisted into a sneer, and she turned away from him, her shoulders rigid with anger. “I don’t need your protection, Jaime,” she spat. “I never have. You’d do well to remember that.”

Without another word, she swept away from him, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind swirling with rage and bitterness. She could feel Jaime’s gaze on her back as she walked away, but she refused to look back, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her pain.

Let them listen, she thought, her jaw clenched. Let them whisper. One day, they would all see how wrong they were to dismiss her, how wrong they were to think she would ever bow to the likes of the Targaryens.

And when that day came, she would not be the one left in the shadows.

Jaime watched as Cersei stalked away, her fury trailing behind her like a storm cloud, and exhaled slowly. The weight of their conversation, of the anger and fear that simmered beneath her words, sat heavy on his chest. He wished he could shake off the feeling, but the darkness in the Red Keep seemed to cling to everything these days. His hand still rested on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the hall, when he noticed a shadowy figure moving through the crowd, gliding closer.

Varys. The Spider. He approached with that smooth, almost serpentine grace that always put Jaime on edge, slipping through the gathering like smoke, his robes whispering around him. Jaime straightened, his expression hardening as Varys drew near.

“Ser Jaime,” Varys greeted him with a small, knowing smile, his tone as soft as ever. “What a night, is it not? The Red Keep feels so alive with merriment. But then, namedays have a way of bringing out the best in people... or the worst.”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening slightly on the hilt of his sword. Varys’s ease, his smoothness, always had a way of grating on him, as if the man knew far more than he ever let on—and more than anyone else had a right to. “What do you want now, Varys?” Jaime asked, his tone sharp, barely masking his irritation. “I’m in no mood for riddles.”

Varys’s smile never faltered, but his eyes gleamed with that familiar, unsettling light. “Want, Ser Jaime? Why, I want nothing at all... except, perhaps, the truth.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “The truth of a young prince’s demise, of course. A mystery that seems to hang over all our heads like a sword, don’t you think?”

Jaime felt a flicker of unease worm its way into his gut, but he forced himself to keep his expression blank. He knew better than to let Varys see any hint of doubt or uncertainty. “If you have something to say, Varys, then say it. Or else move on and find someone else to whisper your secrets to.”

Varys tilted his head, the torchlight casting strange shadows across his pale face. “Oh, but it’s not my secrets that are at risk, Ser Jaime. It’s yours, and those of your dear sister.” He paused, letting the words linger between them like poison. “Not that it will matter much longer. King Aerys grows more vengeful with every passing day, and their Graces, Prince Rhaegar and Princess Y/N, are quick to seek justice for their lost child. They will have someone’s head for this, guilty or not. And when that time comes... well, someone will have to pay the price.”

Jaime’s irritation flared, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Are you threatening me, Varys? Because I’m not in the mood for games.”

Varys held up a hand, the gesture almost placating, though the sly smile never left his lips. “Threatening you, Ser Jaime? Perish the thought. I would never dare. I am merely offering... a warning. A friendly one, as a gesture of goodwill.” His voice lowered even further, the silkiness of his tone turning sharp as a blade. “The truth, you see, is that dragons tend to write their own Rains of Castamere when they feel wronged. And their fire, well, it burns hotter than anything a lion could muster.”

The words struck a nerve, and Jaime felt a flash of anger ripple through him, but he forced himself to remain still, his jaw clenched. “You should watch what you say, Varys. Even a Spider can find itself caught in a web if it spins too carelessly.”

Varys’s smile widened, the corners of his mouth curling with that infuriatingly serene expression. “I am always careful, Ser Jaime. Perhaps more than most. But I do hope you take my warning to heart. I’d hate to see more flames consume this court before their time. And I do so enjoy watching how the game is played.”

With that, Varys dipped his head, his expression never wavering from that cool, calculating smile. Then he turned, gliding away as easily as he had come, disappearing back into the shadows of the hall, leaving Jaime alone with his thoughts.

Jaime remained where he was, staring after him, the unease swirling in his chest like a storm. He could still hear the murmur of voices and laughter from the feast, but now it felt hollow, distant, as if he were listening to it from behind a thick wall. Varys’s words echoed in his mind, a warning wrapped in layers of implication, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the ground beneath him was shifting, that the danger was drawing ever closer.

He glanced back across the hall, catching a glimpse of Rhaegar and Y/N as they moved among their guests, their expressions composed, their grief hidden behind masks of duty. They looked like royalty—like fire and blood wrapped in silk. And he knew, as well as anyone, that fire could burn away everything if it wasn’t contained.

Jaime turned back to his post, forcing himself to focus on the present, but Varys’s words lingered, dark and troubling, a reminder that in King’s Landing, secrets had a way of catching up with you sooner or later. And when they did, no one—not even a lion—was safe from the flames.

You move through the bustling hall beside Rhaegar, his hand firmly wrapped around yours. It’s a small comfort, that touch, one that anchors you as you make your way back to where Aelor sits, surrounded by lords and ladies who shower him with congratulations and gifts he can barely appreciate yet. But tonight, the comfort of Rhaegar’s presence isn’t enough to dispel the darkness that has taken root in your heart.

Your gaze flickers over the gathered faces, each one illuminated by the warm glow of torchlight, but there is no warmth in your thoughts. You see their false smiles, their practiced bows, the carefully controlled expressions they wear like masks. How many of them have whispered behind your back? How many have plotted and schemed while wearing these same pleasant expressions? How many know more about the night your son died than they let on? Each smile, each courteous nod feels like a knife slipping between your ribs, twisting deeper with every glance.

Your hand tightens around Rhaegar’s without realizing it, your breath quickening, a strange sensation curling in your chest. It is not quite rage—rage, you have known well these past months. This is something deeper, something darker, a coldness that settles into your bones and burns all the same. The edges of your vision blur, your focus narrowing until all you can see are those faces, those painted smiles.

A thought, wild and unbidden, rises from that cold place inside you: I want to see them burn.

You blink, the thought startling you, but it lingers, sinking its claws into your mind. It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? To watch them scatter before the flames, to hear the snap and crackle of the fire devouring their fine silks, their grand halls, their secrets. Your father would know how. The words he whispers to himself in the dark, the way his eyes gleam with a fierce hunger for vengeance, a hunger that consumes everything in its path—perhaps it is not so different from the fire now waking within you.

Your gaze drifts to the raised dais, where King Aerys sits on the Iron Throne, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches the revelry below. His fingers tap restlessly against the edge of the armrest, and his eyes, so like yours, dart from face to face, never resting for long. You see it in him—the madness, the hatred, the thrill of power and the thrill of destruction. For a moment, you wonder if you see yourself reflected there, in the glint of his eyes, in the danger that thrums beneath his skin. You wonder if this is what madness feels like, to hunger for fire and blood so fiercely that it drowns out everything else.

Or is this what it means to be a dragon? To finally awaken that ancient flame that has slept within you all your life?

The thought sends a chill through you, and you draw a sharp breath, your mind spinning with the realization. You look away from Aerys, your gaze snapping back to the crowd, but now it is as if you see everything through a haze of red, as if the air itself is tinged with heat.

A hand touches your face gently, his long fingers familiar, grounding. You startle, blinking as you find yourself looking into Rhaegar’s eyes. His expression is soft, his concern naked in his gaze, and you realize he has been watching you, tracking the faraway look in your eyes. His thumb brushes over your cheek, a small, tender gesture that sends a wave of warmth through you, cutting through the chill.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “Where did you go, just now?”

You swallow hard, forcing a small smile for his sake, but you know he can see through it. He always has. “Nowhere, Rhaegar,” you whisper, even though you can still feel that dark, burning thought coiling inside you. “Just... thinking.”

Rhaegar searches your face for a moment, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing stroke against your skin. He doesn’t press you, but the concern never leaves his eyes. “You don’t have to carry this alone,” he says quietly, his voice laced with a sadness that pulls at your heart. “We will find a way through this.”

You don’t answer, but you lean into his touch, allowing it to anchor you. You reach for the goblet of wine that sits nearby, bringing it to your lips, but the taste is empty, like ash on your tongue. It fills your mouth with bitterness, but you swallow it down, ignoring the way it lingers, heavy and cloying.

Rhaegar watches you, his hand never leaving yours, and for a moment, you see the glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes—uncertainty, and perhaps a trace of fear. You wonder if he sees the change in you, if he senses the way something inside you has shifted, like a dragon stirring in its sleep.

You wonder if he would still look at you with such tenderness if he knew the truth. If he knew how much you wanted to see it all burn.

But the thought slips away as you look to your son, who watches the feast with wide, excited eyes, his face glowing with the joy of a boy who knows nothing of the darkness that surrounds him. You take a breath, pushing down the fire inside you, forcing yourself to focus on the present. On Aelor. On Rhaegar. On the warmth of his hand against yours.

The shadows are still there, lingering at the edges of your mind, but for now, you hold them at bay. For now, you are still yourself.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear the whispers of flame, promising that one day, the fire will come. And when it does, nothing will stand in its way.

[janedoewriter]

Collection of Tom Hiddlestion and his characters

(mostly Loki)

Originally Posted: 1/16/2023

Updated: 1/20/2023

Will be slowly updating from my likes

Masterlists

@lokishorns’s Masterlist: Loki

@starscreamloki’s Masterlist: Loki

@tarynkauai’s Masterlist: Loki, Tom Hiddleston and James Conrad

@hajimesh’s Masterlist: Loki

@jpat82’s Masterlist: Loki

@innaminitus’s Masterlist: Loki

@bolontiku’s Masterlist: Loki

Various Author’s AO3 Collab: Loki

@sabine-leo’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and Loki

@nev3rfound’s Masterlist: Loki

@Trashpanda-Bucky’s Masterlist: Loki

@cora-notovrloki’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and Loki

@marvelfanfics1’s Masterlist: Loki

@maiden-of-asgard’s Masterlist: Loki

@maladaptive-ninja-returns’s Masterlist: Loki

@Lokidokiimagines’s Masterlist: Loki

@he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic’s Weekly Smut Recs: Loki

@gingerwritess’s Masterlist: Loki

@just-the-hiddles’s Weekend Reading Rec: Loki and Tom Hiddleston

@nekoamamori’s Masterlist: Loki

@revengingbarnes’s Masterlist: Loki and Tom Hiddleston

@justfandomwritings’s Masterlist: Loki

@the--sad--hatter’s Masterlist: Loki

@lokidmyheart’s Masterlist: Loki

@lonelyandlovelorn’s Masterlist: Loki

@waiting4inspiration’s Masterlist: Loki

@thorne93’s Masterlist: Loki and Tom Hiddleston

@multific’s Masterlist: Loki

@multific’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston

@wewritesoyoucanenjoy’s Masterlist: Loki

@iamnotoriginalphil’s Masterlist: Loki 

@tokoyamisstuff’s Masterlist: Loki 

@ffangirlingsince2001’s Masterlist: Loki 

@domxmarvel‘s Masterlist: Loki 

@worldofmarvelfics‘s Recs Masterlist: Loki

@codenamewitcher’s Masterlist: Loki

@lov3nerdstuff’s Masterlist: Loki, Tom Hiddleston, James Conrad, Jonathan Pine

@bellesque’s Masterlist: Loki and Tom Hiddleston 

@notyetneedcoffee’s Masterlist: Loki

@picassho-18’s Masterlist: Loki and Tom Hiddleston 

@ragnarachael’s Masterlist: Loki

@hela-avenger’s Masterlist: Loki

@the-goddess-of-mischief-writing’s Masterlist: Loki

@fanfic-collection’s Masterlist: Loki

@iwriteabouttomhiddles‘s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston

@lovers-in-japan-reign-of-love’s Recs Masterlist #1 Master #2: Loki and Tom Hiddleston 

@shiningloki’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston

@lokispettigerr’s Masterlist: Loki and Tom Hiddleston

@loki-smut-library’s Masterlist of One/Two Shots Recs: Loki

@loki-smut-library’s Masterlist of Multipart Recs: Loki

@justagirlinafandomworld’s Masterlist: Loki

@lokisgoodgirl‘s Masterlist: Loki

@lady-rose-moon’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and his characters

@holymultiplefandomsbatman’s Smut Masterlist: Loki

@holymultiplefandomsbatman’s Main Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and his characters

@muddyorbsblr’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and his characters

@lokidokieokie’s Fic Recs: Tom Hiddleston and his characters

@sarahscribbles’s Masterlist: Loki

@jobean12-blog’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston and his characters

@delaber’s Masterlist: Loki

@tomhiddlestonfanfic’s Masterlist: Tom Hiddleston

Series Masterlists

Lokasenna’s Masterlist: Jotun!Loki by @hajimesh

Enchanted Tale’s Masterlist By @anotherfanficblog: Loki

Canary by @melyalizarchive: Loki

Mortal by @bolontiku: Loki

Just for Fun by @unofferable-fic: Loki

Loki’s Happy Ending by @gingerwritess: Loki

Meet Me at the Chalet by @J-j-elby-writes: Loki

Protector by @lonelyandlovelorn: Loki

But Then You Came by @etherealwaifgoddess: Loki

Unforeseen Chasm by @thorne93: Loki

Lie to Me by @dearlazerbunny: Loki

My Little Mortal by @fanfic-fangirl: Loki AU

Poison & Wine by @hela-avenger: Loki Fake Dating!AU

Bound to Break by @xxwritemeastoryxx: Loki

Mischief, Meet Your Match by @the--sad--hatter: Loki

YNSAAAW by @maggyme13: Loki

Soulmate 21 by @maggyme13: Loki

A Snake’s Pet by @maggyme13: Alpha! Loki

Borrowed Time by @alwayssunnyinedensgate: Loki 

Of All the Places by @wrenhyperfixates: Loki 

To the Stars Who Listen by @hela-avenger: Loki

Small Time Witch    Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7   Chapter 8 **   Chapter 9**   Chapter 10**   Chapter 11**   Chapter 12**   Chapter 13**   Chapter 14**   Chapter 15   Chapter 16**   Chapter 17   Chapter 18   Chapter 19**   Chapter 20   Chapter 21 (part 1)**   Chapter 21 (part 2)   Chapter 22    Chapter 23**   Chapter 24   Chapter 25   Chapter 26   Chapter 27   Chapter 28   Chapter 29   Chapter 30   Chapter 31   Chapter 32   Chapter 33   Chapter 34 (finale)   Happy birthday, Princess   Body Shots by @diaryofabeautyfiend

Sugar by @maggyme13: Loki 

Stained Lace by @dorotheajanegilmore (Under Wattpad)

Man of the Month by @muddyorbsblr and @mochie85: Loki 

Hostile F*cks by @lokisgoodgirl: Loki

I Have You by @lady-rose-moon: Loki

Clandestine F*cks by @lokisgoodgirl: Loki 

Little Lies by @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor: Loki 

The Witchling and the God by @space-mermaid-writing: Loki 

The Invade Me Chronicles by Various Authors: posted by @xorpsbane: Loki 

Single Fics

The Little Dove and Her Serpent by @luciilferss: Loki

Fade Into You by @tiredwritersworld: Loki

A Long Way Home by @cordytriestowrite: Loki

Home by @kashimos-hajime: Loki

You Found Me by @cumonbucky: Loki

Loki Smut Oneshots by @ohhhmyloki: Loki

Loki’s Perspective by @lowkeyorloki: Loki

Mind Games by @jadegrey711: Loki

Black Magic (Part 1 of 2) by @thesaltysocialworker: Loki

Black Magic (Part 2 of 2) by @thesaltysocialworker: Loki

Pet by @beeblebrox-be-damned: Loki

Intensity by @banditthewriter: Loki

Quarantine Loki (+Thor) by @scarlettwitcher

Heart of Stone by @yet-another-fan-girl9: Loki 

Panic by @yet-another-fan-girl9: Loki 

Beautiful Danger by @midnight-lightning: Loki

I’m Walking Here by @notyetneedcoffee: Loki

Illusions by @xxwritemeastoryxx: Loki

Fireworks by @write-and-wander: Loki

Mornings with You by @write-and-wander: Loki

Bite Me by @loki-hargreeves: Vampire!Loki

Always by @aestheticallywinchester: Loki

Passage by @aestheticallywinchester: Loki

Pieces of You by @aestheticallywinchester: Loki

Reflections by @aestheticallywinchester: Loki

On Set by @aestheticallywinchester: Tom Hiddleston

“Telling Tom a pun..” by @aestheticallywinchester: Tom Hiddleston

When We Meet Again by @falcor-thee-luck-dragon: Loki 

 Keep Up by @falcor-thee-luck-dragon: Loki 

Tell Me A Story by @falcor-thee-luck-dragon: Loki 

Not A Place, A People by @falcor-thee-luck-dragon: Loki 

Kisses Heal Most Wounds by @falcor-thee-luck-dragon: Loki 

The Grinch by @lovinglokilaufeyson: Loki

Complicated by @maybepointlessthoughts: Loki

Bad Timing by @maybepointlessthoughts: Loki

Bad Blood by @maybepointlessthoughts: Loki

Time And Time Again by @maybepointlessthoughts: Loki

Honour by @maybepointlessthoughts: Loki

Petals of Rose by @bonky-n-steeb: Loki

[libidomechanica]

“Which bit of that pleasure and poor”

A limerick sequence

               1

’ The lang! Which bit of that pleasure and poor. This we known; I should hurt her a    sky’s or the ways. To weare,    nor that’sauce forbidden crimes; factitious stones in the same times.

               2

And, in parting gentle and made the sheet. And some mystic seal, a pleasured    splendid names, and    adorning kisse! An accessory, as pitying madrigals.

               3

All are betrayed, whose riper should heart escapes; but never interfered in    pity like a rose—syne    pale blue eye, the nurses. A figured it or not. His other?

               4

And even times; a school of grief indeed, where are pearl which cruell. The moon is    only fretted when    Oppression from the lingers to the gaudy spring disaster.

               5

Your first. Years o’ joy. Set to my ear: hushed too, and answer’d, and raises toward    partly twas a mower.    See the very Suicide the raines should I for faire disguise!

               6

I gave his. Rocks, and dame and bade him who meddle not to do, and still refuse,    nor doe not else, he    was wi’ my Deare, but few faux pas in my face I recognize?

               7

I must a little head up as been so sad antique, bought so; but not that    winter day, each high up    there was nothing to be that passed. Or, like a beam of these kisse!

               8

No wonder the cold, good but rarely came feature? Bed: goldilocks from off    heads, silk canvases, and    the strike mine eye the temples of an inspiration—gave his.

               9

Where the clear, and never be drawn by the brave poor and pillow undertaking    in dreamed of the year.    He was far away with you, as if we misse this paradise.

               10

When she council call’d glory to unwrap or reason gay, like wisest run.    For which will cost us    all who fry in your meeting. These possessed of her of custom.

               11

Water, who whirl the nick of Hazeldean. Not find they, as I have seen’—but    anger. That joy was his    tents. As I, that many a darkness holds a tread, my mother.

               12

In that sleep becometh dumb; the resinous birds. Ends love in Idleness.    My lady’s prattle, which    with love’s the world my love, and ever, mine. The little they fears.

               13

Making bias, be it as it else, how like a young Pharsalians did sting.    A kind called me. Range    busily seeking wine of God, and roe, freely, within the facts!

               14

My heart her birth, so many times start and lovely maid. The glowing was … the    next Cantos. That which might    blast has slain my arms fit you that live, except because the white.

               15

My wife, read like wisest run. And count and then forgotten, my love and look!    See beauty’s angel mine,    mine he cannot today, I follow’d my advice. You had sound.

               16

Were little by little left but they of poisoned bait. Which is wherefore    the fire, a net of rock    yawns,—you can quote what if that flows down, had I lain for the skies.

               17

Husbands chastely taming; the woodbine spices of pianos, children    resist it doth feare, let    bee. Waiting wood, when the digest such a certain seems, to thee?

               18

The fume of polished shaped like those vegetables of the other he heard walls    and fall, with sheep. Machine,    steal; I know, or drowne not vse setting your beauty frail, adieu!

               19

And fly far into the breed, had joys refin’d of Selefkia just afterward    long! Moment white, as    birds are, fit to wants to fret with curls, and there, haunt me alive.

               20

Bright is only heralds breaks running mouth my breast. He cuts the fatal ferry;    and that she felt so    wild flower. The dream include thee: no, no, no, no, not body.

               21

I wanted good: I found, all in the after all, leaue nothing in the pale    Virgin daughter. With a    chill call’d small, without the Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet.

               22

Under who whirl the silence of it heavens endure, she carven glean the    pure and be my lot, far-    off sail is blacked-out window, if I say, mine. The art of spice.

               23

I lo’ed her brother hair, and your sheep. Studied Spanish to hunt our charm no    more; with wrong. The people    must Stella know my mind;— of the setting shrubs, how like the last?

               24

To make of the setting me, knowing, yellow she meet. Without respect, to    gi’en the long sea-wave as    man’s watch. The pleasure of the effort, which can face disaster.

               25

But how the world which we met! Robes sweet Ends love: she guess’d, who eats fire gratitude    I find; and how soon    she steps, each day, and blessing an eclat, both in men the skies?

               26

To calculators where before cared for thee, to have felt to dwell. Like sold    his pregnant pot her how    happy, happy’s a kind in battle keen’—but the mountains yields.

               27

Alone so many time my sky: but what way, my friendship in a dream could    alike disarms the dance    lies. But whene’er be an oil paint: some believe life ends with whites.

               28

What so fair, that crazed that art now hath my dear. The soil lies, dry as a poplar    or a pole, hard as    Newcastle, his other wealth hast struck one immense bride: and you.

               29

Never croaks, at least that valley of shall add themselues and rolling in    footing in the swelling.    Of what neither old man’s waters warming by would gladly die?

               30

Except behind; for ladie was a baskets.— But here the birds sing or years in    play, and goodly veil, which    there’s like a ballet- master; so many, and then publish?

               31

Before, then, keen delight. Or Germany, where his back renown, when the lurking    bird, at least two cities,    when you think of deep kindness, but they are brought she could I?

               32

But it were the sun. ’St thou hast the manor; but where has a garden I    see not enough thick and    smile on me best likely all ruby red, cheeks, I breathe my name.

               33

Running ran, and myself and pointed twice, that gallant badge-the dewy down,    if by their estate and    could not wear not. As though of the parted, then the enema.

               34

When a fevered tracks. One system eats at morning: but love you loves a long    yellow building in spring    or Old Master’s corn has ears: sighs, and only Queene of thee?

               35

I love I shall add themselues we lose. But be relation, a hands and    in the black regards on    birthdays, glorious Angles in Boston, writing for she men.

               36

The morning which much women, spring, a beauty, blind for fears as moist mirage    in deserts idleness.    What else, none enough for ourselves were born kneel once so dear.

               37

My shy and deadly swell to another month at leap year, I felt her what    sing. Engineer boots, children    of girls which the roll- call draws them hovering letters, its long.

               38

These days I speak. Or serious ghost radio, may of the wrong; his    otherwise twenty? She precious    stone so, love, thy kirtle, and this though chidden mystery.

               39

Our ease, our thrift, our their backs, locomotive, like a cloud, and shield and gentle    common place. Monarch’s    plague, think thy shades, clouds o’er meikle and glimmer’d fair Eliza!

               40

And rail, and prosers, words—but when we beloved. I kneel, not loue; no, no,    let bee. All that which human    this? Of course; still growing your charm no preacher can thy sweet.

               41

Though chidden of the Knight at noonday. From its brother evident the    defendant doth Love speech a    fulfillment. The Lady Adeline, a hands before the wind.

               42

As they can’t stop, and feed the first to practised in deserve their silence    for ever stirs this is    the shepherd swains shall cover. Love appeals the milk of her face.

               43

When a man. But System eats firm on the stockade or taken out, little    breed a nation, though my    mind; the magic of heart is sauce for you have shaving ankle?

               44

It were there, as any stone jaw of a hope for new. We telltale cheek, whose    piteous day, shall the land,    I am quite sure so, lover, floats airily oped her.

               45

As thought about me no wit can driven: I hold his Paradise for their    verdict for want the marriage.    And all passionately enough for a long we have lied.

               46

I ask in traffic on thee beds of artless the current of your badly    sweater and bride, and such    small passion thine would show mercy should to-night, the musk and sky!

               47

Come into my fair Eliza! Not gaze upon his body of the roses    and let out so many    a soul, by choice alarms my whole and its cruel. Nay, wilt thou?

               48

You know, may be, now are ways to do it, there before cared for the moon are    his pious consort did:    if he had more take. Where the stone set in that his joined clenched fists.

               49

To save, when Old Love speaks of the finer polite than an anguish pay. Frosty    rime, now I am    here for the bays of this be other unnested day nor night.

               50

She is stands; take made my lot, far-off sail is blown up for slaue. What something    all-clareted; and ever,    can’st thy shames, and seem but a drop like an earthquake’s ruin.

               51

Which I at preserve the buzzing of the Knight, when she conscience, swift force within    this? Meadows and morbid    eating, or she call my wooing is held no hint of love.

               52

Without be it as a strange; tis so proud spirit for thing. My backwoods and    do not know that his friends    in two, breakers plunge and robes loose or tradesman’s fault; and day.

               53

Of smoke and in babble and gamed of a brilliant body. So many    a smiling the first sight    but, till the stood and beauty, believers fall about marriage.

               54

Some heart wide, till a-falling. Of stubborn shell, which see Shakspeare’s every    beautiful fancy i    have I see you, my most full-waked senses; and fawn upon?

               55

Together by pulleys like the pleasure and be thy face calculators    declare, upon earthy    beames but bitter incense paired with knout? Who wants him to me.

               56

With desirable, we are heart was na sae ye glinted by, still    refuseth, giuing from off heads,    silk, or his fault. I told her millet on from hanging a blank.

               57

Dies, thy servant’s loss, and when you the fall of a mystic diapasons; which    in tempest’s lour; and ne’er    I still in us, waiting from an aspire. That which the floor.

               58

No, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. Its ugliness and lilies of night as    I hate a drove of her    cheeks, I breath, less lie frae my Deare, let base cloud of poisoned bait.

               59

But, in little to wise Oxenstiern. Both in turn, nor have got any. And    that heard which see Shakspeare’s    epigraph, new angel forth with my life and blood but small!

               60

Especially with the comely fare, ye’re welcome, come, Font of the sheet I    smell and that right. A fox-    hunt to mee: no, no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let us play?

               61

Still I touch of sentimental boasts may still art and acts—and all the mountains    rear their punishment    is on the wars are always and simple in the year; all night.

               62

Blank. Airport in men these joys refin’d of Selefkia from shore, and that she    stept—then let come who obey    would have take times—as out-of-date as a stranger than fees.

               63

Thought else is bold even glean the little. Pipe on her feet, who, stead of the    Louvre, their soul, going    is her object to true mind is with fire and and be thy hands.

               64

Live on the waves at the dangerous famish’d longing again: its salutary    aim, in the scorned    at something is in my best of two. That I deem’d to be cross.

               65

—For oh, her own heart. Mark if he had seen or poppy seeds to wayward walls    and slight eyes, thou hast thy    cheek on cheek once more that chaste and reserved, I am tired.

               66

The original of your powers do from me. Mere little poet is    what could not sweet envelope;    and a-propos of my dream’d, then those are betray us.

               67

Perhaps she was not to expressly foretold, how much inspiration great    enough for a lonely:    where we could you will speak they loue. Above all night flattery?

               68

And most of gold, and were you so, ’ utter’d weed, of small, from whom I could to-    night, than thine? Stood and    liberty, doth promise fort, cowards may the inward long journey.

               69

And having so proud of humanity, unless gone. The clash of jarrings    which could have prove, for I    have lied. How does my sight, cried Dick, rose, and death-white and called me.

               70

A face of the little thou repentance like an ominous base. How much    inferior to wean    Don Juan from year beauties in the winter’s chart, till a-falling.

               71

Burn, or where be in the Friendly Few. As are void of another line: so    long memory in my    young and transitional era, that’s one of losing is done.

               72

Myrtle; a gown free which I at present my finger, and truly not I    be like light of cruelties.    Not choosing—the hart, hind, and I was blawn, and light is Day.

               73

Julia and I love you; there might beautiful seas assign’d. It is my way.    Why drinks it up: mine eye    is much sanity will perfumed the passion as e’er was that.

[tothelasthoursofmylife]

Character Profiles: Other servants and employees

Index: Clifford, Thomas, Grace, Wentworth, Quentin, Sycamore, Daisy, Scott, Ishmael

(All character ages are as of the latest chapter, or when they died. All information as of the latest chapter too.)

Navigation: Main and extras | Cloudia's grandparents and maternal extended family | Cloudia's paternal extended family (and Florentin) | Other servants and employees | Antagonists | Scotland Yard and misc.

Name: Theodore Clifford

Nickname(s): Ted, Teddy, Old Ted, Cliff

Birthday: 1784

Age: 64 (at time of death; March 28, 1848)

Physical description: grey, formerly light brown hair, dark brown eyes

Affiliation: Phantomhive family (former)

Occupation: Butler (former)

Base of Operations: Phantomhive Manor (former); Phantomhive townhouse (former)

Random fact(s): He learned how to make blankets/quilts from his grandmother. It didn’t make him popular at school, but several of his blankets are still at Phantomhive Manor. Cloudia likes wrapping herself in one when she reads a book or just because.

Background info:

When I looked at my notes and saw I jotted down his birth year as 1784, I wanted to change it to 1774 to make him older. Then, I saw that I had already given it (indirectly) in “The Countess, Unamused,” so that was it.

The third arc was meant to be about him more, but the story ended up turning into another direction in the end.

First appearance: The Lady, First Training (Chapter 10)

----

Name: Thomas Holmwood

Nickname(s): Tom, Tommy, Horse Boy

Birthday: 1828

Age: 20

Physical description: brown hair, dark brown eyes

Affiliation: Phantomhive family

Occupation: Stable boy; coachman

Base of Operations: Phantomhive Manor; Phantomhive townhouse

Random fact(s):

He has a little, impossible crush on Clarissa.

He often asks for a salary raise because Lisa keeps squeezing his money out of him when they play cards. Cloudia does not want to indulge him and, thus, always refuses. (He gets more “normal” salary raises though.)

Thomas is quite friendly with Cedric. They often talk when Cloudia is still busy and cannot meet up with Cedric yet.

Background info: I think I got his surname from the Department 19 series. Thomas does not descend from a long line of vampire hunters though. (If he did, it would terrify him.)

First appearance: The Green Ghost of Nephelius Cemetery (Part 1): The Countess, First Encounter; The Countess, Captured (Chapter 16; present)

----

Name: Grace Nullings

Nickname(s): Gracie

Birthday: 1805

Age: 43

Physical description: light brown hair, blue-green eyes

Affiliation: Phantomhive family; Houghton family (former)

Occupation: Lady’s maid

Base of Operations: Phantomhive Manor; Phantomhive townhouse; Houghton Manor (former)

Random fact(s): Besides being her lady’s maid, she’s childhood friends with Penelope. Grace was the cook’s daughter, and Penelope got along better with her than with her own sisters.

Background info: She’s named after Millard Nullings from Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. His peculiarity is invisibility which fits with a rarely appearing character (and the one time she did it was very brief), particularly a servant character as servants were meant not to be heard or seen.

First appearance: The Countess, Thirteen Days; has not appeared in the present yet

----

Name: Abraham Wentworth

Nickname(s): Bram

Birthday: ??

Age: Old

Physical description: grey, formerly dark blond hair, light blue eyes

Affiliation: Salisbury family

Occupation: Butler

Base of Operations: Salisbury Villa (former); wherever Milton lives now and travels to

Favourite Colour: wine red

Favourite Flower: whatever fits the décor

Favourite Dessert: none (though he does like nicking bits of chocolate and apple cake every now and then)

What is in his bag? handkerchief, set of keys, diary, pencils; he likes to travel lightly and does not carry much

Random fact(s): His first master used him as a food taster as he greatly feared that he could be poisoned. Wentworth thought it was a bit silly, but still went along with it out of loyalty.

Background info: I initially put “burgundy” as his favourite colour, but, apparently, “burgundy” is only used as a colour word in English since 1881??

First appearance: The Countess, Scary (Chapter 5)

----

Name: Quentin Thibault-Nichols

Nickname(s): Quent, Quenti

Birthday: 1812

Age: 36

Physical description: tall, broad-shouldered, dark brown hair, grey eyes

Affiliation: Chemins de fer du Nord; Milton Salisbury; Factory (former)

Occupation: Engineer

Base of Operations: Paris

Random fact(s): He has quite the sweet tooth. His wife is a baker and won his heart through his stomach.

Background info: I got his surname “Thibault” from The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks, so I actually know how it’s meant to be pronounced for once! Yey. (It’s the protagonist’s name, and he always has to correct the pronunciation, so it comes up a lot.)

First appearance: The Countess, Travelling (Chapter 21)

----

Name: Theodore Sycamore

Nickname(s): Theo

Birthday: 1803

Age: 45

Physical description: tall, curly brown hair, dark brown eyes, wears red-rimmed glasses

Affiliation: Salisbury Trading

Occupation: Deputy Director

Base of Operations: London

Random fact(s): He’s very skittish and jumpy, but only when he’s not concentrating on work. If he is, he loses sight of his surroundings.

Background info: He’s named after Desmond Sycamore from the Professor Layton games. His first name is taken from there too. I was a bit on the fence whether I should give him that first name or nor because of Clifford and ultimately went for it. It’s not as if name overlaps are uncommon, and both characters are usually only called by their surnames anyway.

First appearance: The Countess, Destruction (Chapter 30); has not appeared in the present yet

----

Name: Daisy Freke

Nickname(s): None

Birthday: 1810s

Age: 30s

Physical description: light brown hair; wears dark glasses

Affiliation: Oscar Livingstone

Occupation: Maid/housekeeper; informant

Base of Operations: She and the others don’t live with Oscar but close-by in their own little house (they also never lived (full-time) at Livingstone Manor before)

Random fact(s): Ironically, she’s allergic to daisies. This is quite the problem because, due to her name, people often give her daisies.

Background info:

She and Oscar’s other servants are based on the three wise monkeys. She’s Mizaru, the “see no evil” monkey. (“Daisy” means “day eye.”)

In my notes, her surname was “O’Sullivan” for the longest time, as I struggled to find any eye-related surnames that I liked (and “O’Sullivan” means “descendant of Súileabhán (= “dark eye”)”). It was a placeholder name for obvious reasons, and I now decided to name her “Freke” after John Freke, the UK’s first eye surgeon. (I wanted her to have a “special” surname because her given name does not have a specific background unlike the others’.)

First appearance: The Countess, Faint and Low 5.0 (Chapter 20)

----

Name: Scott Moray

Nickname(s): None

Birthday: 1810s

Age: 30s (slightly younger than Daisy)

Physical description: red hair

Affiliation: Oscar Livingstone

Occupation: Coachman; informant

Base of Operations: He and the others don’t live with Oscar but close-by in their own little house (they also never lived (full-time) at Livingstone Manor before)

Random fact(s): He’s a cook too, but only for Daisy and Ishmael; he rarely cooks for Oscar.

Background info:

He and Oscar’s other servants are based on the three wise monkeys. He’s Iwazaru, the “speak no evil” monkey. His first name means “Gaelic speaker.” To fit his first name, I gave him a Scottish surname (though it has no special meaning).

His surname was briefly “Motters” before I changed it, however.

First appearance: The Countess, Faint and Low 5.0 (Chapter 20)

----

Name: Ishmael Greenberg

Nickname(s): None

Birthday: 1790s

Age: early 50s

Physical description: greying brown hair

Affiliation: Oscar Livingstone

Occupation: Footman; informant

Base of Operations: He and the others don’t live with Oscar but close-by in their own little house (they also never lived (full-time) at Livingstone Manor before)

Random fact(s): He likes singing a lot. Because he’s deaf, the sounds don’t come out “correctly” though, much to the pain of Daisy and Scott.

Background info: He and Oscar’s other servants are based on the three wise monkeys. He’s Kikazaru, the “hear no evil” monkey. “Ishmael” means “God will hear.” As that is a Hebrew surname, I gave him a Jewish surname.

First appearance: The Countess, Faint and Low 5.0 (Chapter 20)

[firebat2023]

the bibles take on gossip

this what the Word of God says about Gossip part 2

Proverbs 16:28

A dishonest man spreads strife, and a whisperer separates close friends.

Proverbs 20:19

Whoever goes about slandering reveals secrets; therefore do not associate with a simple babbler.

Proverbs 11:13

Whoever goes about slandering reveals secrets, but he who is trustworthy in spirit keeps a thing covered.

Ephesians 4:29

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.

Proverbs 26:20

For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases.

Leviticus 19:16

You shall not go around as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not stand up against the life of your neighbor: I am the Lord.

Proverbs 18:8

The words of a whisperer are like delicious morsels; they go down into the inner parts of the body.

Psalm 34:13

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.

Proverbs 10:18

The one who conceals hatred has lying lips, and whoever utters slander is a fool.

1 Peter 3:16

Having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.

Ephesians 5:11

Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.

1 Timothy 5:13-14

Besides that, they learn to be idlers, going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not. So I would have younger widows marry, bear children, manage their households, and give the adversary no occasion for slander.

Titus 2:2-3

Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness. Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good,

James 3:8

But no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.

Psalm 41:7

All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me.

Proverbs 18:6-7

A fool's lips walk into a fight, and his mouth invites a beating. A fool's mouth is his ruin, and his lips are a snare to his soul.

Proverbs 16:27

A worthless man plots evil, and his speech is like a scorching fire.

Psalm 15:1-5

A Psalm of David. O Lord, who shall sojourn in your tent? Who shall dwell on your holy hill? He who walks blamelessly and does what is right and speaks truth in his heart; who does not slander with his tongue and does no evil to his neighbor, nor takes up a reproach against his friend; in whose eyes a vile person is despised, but who honors those who fear the Lord; who swears to his own hurt and does not change; who does not put out his money at interest and does not take a bribe against the innocent. He who does these things shall never be moved.

Psalm 41:6

And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers iniquity; when he goes out, he tells it abroad.

Psalm 23:1-6

A Psalm of David. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. ...

1 Timothy 3:9-11

They must hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience. And let them also be tested first; then let them serve as deacons if they prove themselves blameless. Their wives likewise must be dignified, not slanderers, but sober-minded, faithful in all things.

Ephesians 4:25

Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another.

Matthew 7:1

“Judge not, that you be not judged.

Proverbs 11:12

Whoever belittles his neighbor lacks sense, but a man of understanding remains silent.

Deuteronomy 13:14

Then you shall inquire and make search and ask diligently. And behold, if it be true and certain that such an abomination has been done among you,

Psalm 15:3

Who does not slander with his tongue and does no evil to his neighbor, nor takes up a reproach against his friend;

Proverbs 26:28

A lying tongue hates its victims, and a flattering mouth works ruin.

[ancestorsofjudah]

1 Kings 16: 21-28. "The Night Club Singer."

Omri means "ecstasy of worship." Ecstatic experiences according to the Tanakh are found in one place for one reason, and that is in the love crevasse after penetration by the stem of the love apple.

But the audience is divided. Let's see what happens next:

Omri King of Israel

21 Then the people of Israel were split into two factions; half supported Tibni son of Ginath for king, and the other half supported Omri. 

22 But Omri’s followers proved stronger than those of Tibni son of Ginath. So Tibni died and Omri became king.

23 In the thirty-first year of Asa king of Judah, Omri became king of Israel, and he reigned twelve years, six of them in Tirzah. 

24 He bought the hill of Samaria from Shemer for two talents[a] of silver and built a city on the hill, calling it Samaria, after Shemer, the name of the former owner of the hill.

25 But Omri did evil in the eyes of the Lord and sinned more than all those before him. 

26 He followed completely the ways of Jeroboam son of Nebat, committing the same sin Jeroboam had caused Israel to commit, so that they aroused the anger of the Lord, the God of Israel, by their worthless idols.

27 As for the other events of Omri’s reign, what he did and the things he achieved, are they not written in the book of the annals of the kings of Israel? 

28 Omri rested with his ancestors and was buried in Samaria. And Ahab his son succeeded him as king.

Tibni son of Ginath is the competitor for Ecstatic Worship, which we know from the previous section defines and unites the people. So long as they worship with the wine and not the poison, the affairs of a praiseful people should not go awry.

Tibni "the intelligence shield" is how this is done:

The verb בנה (bana) means to build, mostly of stone buildings and thus of houses and thus of families and dynasties: hence the association between this verb and the nouns אבן ('eben), stone, and בן (ben), son.

Noun בניה (binya) means a building in the sense of a structure. Noun מבנה (mibneh) means building in the sense of place of building. Noun תבנית (tabnit) means building in the sense of the act of building: a construction, pattern or image.

Noun תבן (teben) means straw (the stems of grains), which was inserted into clay to enhance the structural integrity of the building. We do the same today with carbon fibers.

The verb גנן (ganan) means to surround, cover or defend. Nouns גן (gan) and גנה (ganna) mean garden. Noun מגן (magen) means shield and verb מגן (magan) means to shield or deliver.

Worship wins. Is this a good thing or not?

The Gematria for v . 23 states: 7114, זאאד‎‎‎‎, zaad, "to perceive the reverence in the voice."

za=

The verb זוע (zua') means to tremble or quake out of reverence (Esther 5:9), aggression (Habakkuk 2:7), or old age (Ecclesiastes 12:3). The verb occurs only these three times in the Bible.

Its sole derivative is the feminine noun זועה (zewa'a), meaning a trembling out of terror (2 Chronicles 29:8, Isaiah 28:19, Jeremiah 15:4). Twice this noun occurs in a variant spelling: זעוה (za'awa; Deuteronomy 28:25, Ezekiel 23:46).

ad=

The verb αδω (ado) means to sing, chant or recite: to sound the voice. It's a contraction of the verb αειδω (aeido), which in the classics could apply to the human voice but also to that of crowing or hooting birds, croaking frogs, the whistling wind and even objects such as a twanging bow string or a ringing rock when struck.

The pedigree of this verb is unclear, although it's generally thought to relate to αυδη (aude), voice or speech, which in turn appears to relate to the Sanskrit noun vada, speech.

These words' similarity to the familiar Latin audio, which ultimately stems from the Proto-Indo-European root "au-", to perceive, appears to be accidental.

Our verb αδω (ado) evidently emphasizes the human voice, and thus the text-part of a song.

Certainly worship without a brain is no good, as is worship without reverence for nature and humanity. The Tanakh regularly discusses how diabolical intelligence is without proper perception of the nature of God that is beneath all that manifests in creation.

Because this text is within the Melachim, a handbook for Jewish Royals, we are told to follow this ideal in the Court. It must be enforced by example and the protocols that govern the church and temple.

The next verse also has Gematria:

24 He bought the hill of Samaria from Shemer for two talents[a] of silver and built a city on the hill, calling it Samaria, after Shemer, the name of the former owner of the hill.

Samaria =

The verb שמר (shamar) means to guard or to exercise great care over. Noun שמרה (shomra) means guard. Noun שמר (shimmur) means night watch. Noun אשמורה ('ashmura) or אשמרת ('ashmoret) refers to the night watch as unit of time.

Noun משמר (mishmar) describes the "place or agent" of guarding, which may come down to either a prison or a guard, but it may also describe the keeping on some religious observances or something like that.

Noun משמרת (mishmeret), literally meaning "with the function of watching," used in the sense of a charge or obligation; an official function of guarding. Noun שמרה (shemura) describes an eyelid.

Two Talents of Silver are 2366, בגוו‎‎‎ , "in the ocean". A city on a hill is 1104, אא‎‎אֶפֶסד, "I'm sorry"

If we broaden the equation to the rest of the verse, "A city on a hill that is called..." =3514, ג‎הא‎ד‎, gahad,

ga=all non-human nations

ha=have witnessed

ad=but can advance

SO if we look in the surface of the sea, we can become more like God and become less sorry. But first we must be aware of what lies ahead- so we want to say to God I am sorry when we Audience with him, or do we want to say we made something out nothing and became like Him, incorporate His values and become more like the infinite?

But Omri did not worship with intelligence, he acted and repented for the wrong things- he ate a milk chocolate covered deep fried ham loaf, shit in his nice clean pants and apologized to God, for example, while the Kingdom prayed to its boy band idols which were all over the place, and that is why he failed in the Eyes of God.

=9961, טטו‎א, tatua

ta=hired a harlot

tu=became visually impaired as if peering through smoke

ah=and created a fad

=No political parties.

The City on the Hill that Watches sees through the worship of the wrong things and finds what is insightful, intelligent, brilliant and miraculous in the writing of our ancestors and projects itself forward, as far as possible in the building of a free and prosperous people that are utterly untroubled about a single thing.

To worship, publish the peace and live within it, knowing God was right to tell us to do it, this is verily the cause of the ecstasy of worship. For this to be possible we need a King and Court that are willing to invest in it and stand behind the Agreement mankind made with God so far now in the distant past.