#so he abandons everything. his fear. his doubts. his love. his grace

[wilmaaaa0]

Sometimes I think about how Miquella literally threw away all aspects of what he once was, INCLUDING his Grace. We see that from his character model his eyes are gray, which means he's Graceless.

You could view this action in two ways:

1. Miquella was so confident in his plan that he deemed nothing would stop him at this point, and since he's going to start his own order anyways, he doesn't need grace anymore (not expecting our Tarnished to come flying from the bleachers with a steel chair)

2. Miquella was so desperate to show he was atoning for Marika's sins, and was so desperate to succeed, that he threw away his Grace in the hopes it would help him ascend, danger or no

It's really up to the player to decide which one they think is more likely.

Either way, when we kill him...he's dead dead. There's no coming back for him; he doesn't get placed in the Erdtree and his soul will never be reincarnated. Which is...really, really sad, imo. Not only did he sacrifice everything, he FINALLY achieved his goal, and then we kill him right out the gate and...it's over.

That's it. That's all that Miquella will have done or will ever do. His legacy is an unfinished one, even when he finally got the power to finish it all.

[novaursa]

Ok I have a thought and everything turn around this song

https://open.spotify.com/track/3gS0VrWH2NyPGXYiFmcagd?si=GyNvN-TlRdK8WaKeFUi8zw

Fem! Reader is supposed to be the daughter of Leanor but she had the strong’s look. She never had a doubt about who her real father is, she always loved Harwin cause he was very closed to her behind closed door obviously.

Growing up she ask her mother to come back to King’s Landing, she might be engaged to Aemond. But everything she had in mind is to kill Larys Strong, the anger she had is that strong that she might even died or get captured but when it’s happens her dragon goes back to harenhal and Daemon and the Strong’s family understand what happened

Blood For Blood

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Sheepstealer lands upon Harrenhal, alone.

- Pairing: None, can be assumed to be a daughter!reader/(father) Harwin Strong (platonic), as reader attempts to avenge her father.

- Note: The reader is bonded with Sheepstealer. I hope this is what you had in mind. Some information had to be left out, so the plot can come together in this short story.

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

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

Smoke rises above the blackened stones of Harrenhal as the air thrums with the sound of wings. A massive shadow crosses over the crumbled towers and battlements, casting a darkness so deep it feels like the sun has vanished from the world. The creature circling the castle is unmistakable. Sheepstealer.

Daemon Targaryen, atop Caraxes, looks up from his perch on the scorched ramparts, brow furrowed. His silver hair shimmers in the dim light, an almost ethereal contrast to the beast circling above. Beside him, Simon Strong, one of the last of his bloodline, tightens his grip on the pommel of his sword. The weight of realization settles between them, heavy and oppressive.

“She’s not with him,” Daemon murmurs, his voice low but tinged with that ever-present edge of amusement that he never fully abandons, even in the face of tragedy. His eyes remain fixed on the dragon, the massive beast known for its temperament, who now glides through the sky riderless.

Simon glances at Daemon, lips pressed into a thin line. "It is as we feared, then." His voice is rough, aged and worn from years of bitter experience. His face, weathered by both time and the weight of his family’s cursed legacy, holds no surprise, only resignation.

“She went after him,” Daemon says with a certainty that causes Simon’s breath to hitch for a moment. He doesn't look at Simon, his gaze still held by the dragon. "After Larys."

There’s a stillness between the two men, a tension in the silence, as Sheepstealer lets out a deep, rumbling growl. The sound reverberates through the courtyard below, shaking the very earth. The dragon lowers itself to the ground with a grace that defies its monstrous size, its claws digging into the charred earth as it lets out a shuddering snort.

Daemon watches closely as the dragon’s head swivels, searching, waiting. There is no rider upon his back. No proud figure, no fierce expression to match the storm of fury that had been brewing ever since you left King’s Landing. And in that absence, Daemon knows. They both know.

“She’s dead.”

Simon speaks the words that hang between them, his voice barely more than a whisper. Daemon doesn't reply immediately. He doesn’t need to. They can both see it—the truth laid bare in the arrival of the beast without its mistress. You are gone, as surely as your father before you, lost in the flames of vengeance that have consumed your bloodline.

"Y/N..." Daemon finally speaks your name, voice barely louder than a breath, almost reverent. He had never truly known you, not as he had known your mother, Rhaenyra, or even your father, Harwin, but there was always a bond, an understanding. You were fire, like all Targaryens, but a different kind—quieter, colder. Until the day Harwin Strong died.

Since that day, your flame had burned hotter, more dangerously, and everyone knew where it would lead. Even your dragon, fierce and independent as he was, had bent to your will. You wanted vengeance for the father taken from you in the blackened ruins of Harrenhal. You had sworn to see Larys Strong dead for the part he had played in your family’s destruction.

Daemon steps forward, descending from the ramparts toward the courtyard where Sheepstealer waits. The dragon's great amber eyes follow him, unblinking. There's an intelligence there, a knowing that cuts through the air like a dagger.

"She fought bravely," Simon says, though his tone is hollow, lacking any conviction.

Daemon scoffs, the sound bitter. "Bravery? It was madness. The girl was bound to die the moment she swore that oath."

"You are one to speak of madness, prince." Simon’s voice hardens, a rare defiance in it, but Daemon only grins, a twisted, humorless smile.

"And yet, I still stand."

The words hang in the air between them, as heavy as the clouds of smoke rising from Harrenhal’s ruins. Daemon stops just short of Sheepstealer, his eyes locking with the dragon’s once more. He can feel the raw power of the creature, the pain that mirrors his own. Sheepstealer had been with you through it all—the fierce bond you shared had been envied, even among your own kin. And now, with your death, the dragon stands alone.

"She died trying to kill him, didn’t she?" Simon asks, though he already knows the answer.

Daemon gives a curt nod. "Larys Strong will not be easy to find now. He’s as slippery as a shadow in the night."

"That worm," Simon growls. His hand tightens once more on the pommel of his sword, though it’s more out of frustration than any desire for action. There’s nothing to be done now. It’s over. "She would have made a fine queen... had things been different."

Daemon’s eyes flicker with something dark and unreadable. "She was never meant for a crown. Too much of her father in her."

Silence falls again, the weight of the castle pressing down upon them both. Sheepstealer growls low, sensing the tension in the air, the grief that lingers in the stone itself. The dragon looks toward the entrance of the keep, as if expecting someone to walk out and take command, but no one comes.

"Will you tell him?" Simon asks quietly.

Daemon’s smile fades completely, and for a moment, he looks weary—older, burdened by the countless losses that have marked his long life. "No. Let the dragon keep his illusions for a little longer. He’ll find out soon enough."

With that, Daemon turns his back on the dragon, the courtyard, and the weight of yet another death added to the blood-soaked history of his family. Simon watches him go, feeling the same heavy resignation settle in his bones.

Sheepstealer lets out one last mournful cry, the sound echoing through the empty halls of Harrenhal. The dragon knows too now. You are gone, taken by fire, just as your father before you. The Strong bloodline is broken, and vengeance has consumed yet another soul.

[vodika-vibes]

Congrats, Vodika!!! 🎉🎊🥳

May I request a Western AU with beloved Fives? [sfw]

Love ya and looking forward to seeing what you come up with!—Coffee 🩵

The Marshal

Summary: You’ve been the sole owner of the Broken Hearts Saloon since the day your fraternal twin brother decided that staying in this sleepy town wasn’t for him. It’s not easy, you barely make enough to make ends meet, and you have to live in a small studio above the saloon. So, when the US Marshal arrives you’re sure that your already bad day is going to turn into a bad month.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x F!Reader

Word Count: 1886

Prompt: Western AU

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, after doing some research, US Marshals track fugitives and run the Witness Protection Program. I doubt it's the same people, but I'm taking some artistic liberties here to make it work. I hope you like it!

You remember the day your twin brother left as if it were yesterday.

You remember sitting on the mattress while he paced in front of you, waving his hat and gesturing wildly while he bitched about how little the Sheriff does to protect the town from the growing bandit population. 

You remember him punching the wall hard enough that his knuckles started to bleed.

You remember him looking at you and telling you that the pair of you can’t stay here. That the bandits had already killed your parents, that it was only a matter of time before they killed you too.

You remember ducking your head and saying that you won’t abandon the Saloon that your parents started because of Bandits.

You remember his rage. How his face turned red, and how he advanced on you with his fists clenched. How he got right in your face and yelled and raged at you. You remember how you feared, for a moment, that he was going to hit you.

And you remember how final the door slamming shut behind him sounded. 

It was a relief, the following morning, when you realized that he took his horse and a bag of his clothes and was gone. Oh, sure, you did your duty. Reported to the Sheriff that your brother was gone, with his horse. That he decided to leave.

The Sheriff, an old family friend, only shook his head and sighed, before asking if he hurt you before he left. And then reassured you that the Sheriff’s office would add your brother's name and face to the growing list of people to keep an eye for when they do their patrol.

And then life carried on.

You learned, right quick, that you had to change the way you carried yourself or else your patrons would steamroll right over you and your policies with all of the grace of one of the steam trains that crisscross the country.

So you ditched your long dresses for carefully tailored versions of your brother’s clothes, and steeled your spine. You refused to let anyone walk all over you, not in your own establishment. 

Sure, life wasn’t easy, having to do everything on your own was so, so hard some days, but mama always said that you’re more stubborn than a mule when you get an idea into your year.

And so, time goes on. 

The Broken Heart’s Saloon is never going to make you rich, but under your careful management, and after reading a handful of books from the East Coast, you learn how to make something of a profit, so you’re able to buy clothes that actually fit you.

Of course, bandits are still a problem, but they don’t come into the town all the much anymore, not since the new Sheriff decided that any bandits who try anything in the town would be put down with extreme prejudice.

Even so, you can’t imagine living anywhere else.

It’s hot and sunny the day that your world crumbles to your feet. The Saloon is empty, the morning rush has already ended, and the dinner rush won’t start for several hours. Normally, you use this time to clean up and do any repairs that might be needed around the saloon.

But there’s something off about today.

A feeling of deep anxiety, that you can’t quite shake.

And so, when the door opens and Sheriff Echo steps into the saloon, your heart sinks. And when a second man, identical to Echo save for the five tattooed on his forehead, but with a badge with a five pointed star attached to his belt steps into the saloon after him, you go cold.

It’s never a good thing when the Marshals come to town.

Echo pulls off his hat and sets it on the counter, his gaze is sympathetic, “Sorry for bothering you so early.”

“Not that early, Sheriff.” You reply as you set your cleaning rag in the sink, “I still have coffee on, if either of you want some.”

The Marshal sinks onto a bar stool as he places his own hat on the bar as well, “None for me, it’s a bit too hot for a hot drink.” He has a kind smile, the Marshal, and you find yourself relaxing slightly.

“Well, how about something cold then? I have some lemonade?”

“That would be wonderful,” Echo says as he sinks onto a stool next to the man who can only be his twin. 

“Alright, then.” You pull out two clean glasses, add ice, and pour some lemonade into both, before you pass the drinks to the two men, “Here you go.”

The two men take small sips of their drinks, and there’s a slightly uncomfortable silence that you’re hesitant to break.

In the end, you don’t have to. Echo sets his glass back on the bar and looks at you, “This is my brother, Fives. He’s a US Marshal.”

“The badge did look familiar to me,” You reply with a wry smile. You can’t think of a single person who wouldn’t recognize the five pointed star of the US Marshals badge, it’s almost as distinctive as the six pointed star of Echo’s Sheriff badge.

Fives sets his glass down on the counter as well, “You’re Miss Racine? Twin sister of Connor Racine?”

Your heart falls to your toes, “What did he do?”

Fives glances at Echo and then waves him off, “Go on, vod. Back to work with you.” He stands, “Is there someplace we can talk?”

You’re quiet for a moment, “I…yeah. I can shut the Saloon for a bit and we can talk upstairs.”

“After you.”

You move around the Saloon, shutting and locking the doors once Echo leaves, and hanging a sign that you’re closed for the moment, and then you lead Fives up the stairs in the back and into your small studio home.

“Make yourself at home,” You say as you sink into one of the kitchen chairs. You’re not terribly surprised when he sinks into the chair across from you. 

Fives is quiet for a moment, and then reaches into his jacket and slides a sheet of paper across the table, “Miss Racine, I need to know the last time you saw your brother.”

You pick up the paper and stare at it, feeling like you need to cry. 

There, emblazoned in black and white, is your brother’s face.

Wanted by the US Marshals. Connor Racine. Bank robbery. Murder. Bail jumping.

You drop the paper and flip it over so you don’t have to look at it, “I haven’t seen my brother in years, Marshal.” You admit honestly, “Not since the day he left.”

Fives sighs, “Echo said as much, but I had to make sure.” He awkwardly rolls his shoulder, “Miss Racine, I have reason to believe that your brother will come to you for help.”

“He won’t get it-” You say.

“Then he’ll hurt you.”

You want to tell him that Connor would never. That he’s your twin brother, that he promised to never hurt you.

But you can’t. Your twin brother died the same night your parents did.

“What do you suggest?” You ask instead.

“There’s a safe house I can take you to, you’ll be safe there.” Fives said.

“And when can I return?”

Tellingly, he doesn’t answer.

You flip the paper back over, “Has he joined a gang?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to have to go into Witness Protection, aren’t I?” You ask, your voice heavy.

“We don’t know that yet.” Fives corrects, “But if you do, I’ll be there the whole time.”

You press your face into your hands, “Fine,” Your voice is muffled, “Fine, when do I leave.”

“Immediately.” He pauses, “I am sorry about this.”

“It’s not your fault. My brother’s the idiot here.” You stand, “I just need a few minutes to pack.” Fives nods and moves so he’s standing near the door, his hand resting on his pistol.

It’s that, more than anything, that tells  you how dangerous your brother has become.

Several months later, you’re living in a completely different town. You can see the ocean from your back window.

It’s nice, though it’s not what you expected from your life. 

All things considered, Fives is an excellent housemate. He’s polite and respectful of you, not to mention funny and charming when he puts his mind to it.

As he said before he took you away from your hometown, Fives has been protecting you for months. You’re not sure, exactly, what’s happening. But you do know that Fives has had to move you several times since you’ve left your home.

One time, Fives had to kill someone right in front of you, to protect you from a would-be assassin. That had been three houses ago.

You like Fives. More, maybe, than you should. 

There’s something incredibly attractive about a man who will kill to keep you safe. You’ve done your best to hide your attraction from him, but he’s hardly a stupid man, and you’re hardly a subtle woman.

Sometimes his gaze lingers on you, when he thinks you’re not looking.

You think that means that he thinks very similarly about you as you think about him, but you’re not sure how to put it into words. The last thing you want is to lose him, after all.

You look up from where you’re wiping down the kitchen counter at the sound of Fives entering the kitchen. “Breakfast will be done in a bit, but there’s coffee.”

“Mm, you’re the best.” His voice is thick with sleep, and you turn to smile at him.

He’s shirtless, clad only in the sleep pants that he prefers. It’s a sight you’ve gotten used to, over the last couple of months, but one that you still very much appreciate. 

“You’re staring,” He mumbles as he pours a liberal amount of sugar into his coffee.

“I’m wondering if I should just sprinkle some coffee over a mug of sugar from now on.” You counter, grimacing as he adds another spoonful of sugar.

Fives laughs, “I like sweet things.”

“There’s sweet, and then there’s whatever that is.”

He glances at you, a wide grin on his handsome face, “You wanna taste it?” Fives asks as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“I’m sure it tastes horrible.” You say even as you reach for his mug.

You’re surprised when he sets the mug on the counter, and catches your wrist. He tugs you closer to him, and ducks his head, pressing his lips firmly against yours.

Your free hand settles on his chest as you lean into the kiss. And, before you really realize it, his arm is tight around your waist, and his tongue is sliding against your lips, coaxing you to part them so he can map out the inside of your mouth.

Fives breaks the kiss before you do, he seems to have an uncontrollable grin on his face as he releases your wrist and allows his hand to cup your cheek. “Should have done that ages ago,” He mumbles.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Slowly he bumps his forehead against yours, “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

His smile widens as he leans in and kisses you again.

And you can’t help but think, maybe things aren’t so bad, really.

[epicfroggz]

"keeping company with the original sin, and a hatred that would not be confined" can you please share your interpretation of this sentence? I've been thinking alot of what the original sin and unconfined hatred mean but i couldn't find any explanation in the lore.

Yes, thank you for the ask! I have been trying to parse the meaning of this too. Firstly, what the “original sin” refers to, and secondly, what this “hatred that would not be confined” is about. Let’s break it down together!

(under the cut!)

“A malevolent snake writhed within Messmer, and so his very mother plucked out his eye and put in its place a seal of grace. Yet, having done so, her fear compelled her to secret away her child within the realm of shadow. Hidden away—keeping company with the original sin, and a hatred that would not be confined.” (Remembrance of the Impaler)

There is one other mention of “the original sin” that helps define it:

“Miquella set off for the tower enshrouded by shadow, abandoning everything—his golden flesh, his blinding strength, even his fate. All in an effort to bury the original sin. To embrace the whole of it, and be reborn as a new god.” (Miquella’s Great Rune)

With just the first item description, one may be inclined to believe the original sin is the Hornsent’s rituals against the shamans and Messmer’s hatred is simply hatred against the Hornsent for this act. But, this is only part of the truth. The other part is revealed by the second description, the very thing that Miquella is trying to bury: love. How it was not out of compassion or a desire to make the world a better place that Marika ascended to godhood, it was out of love and desire for revenge first and foremost.

The original sin is not what the Hornsent did—the original sin is Marika’s response to it.

This recontextualizes the description of Messmer’s remembrance a bit. He is “keeping company with the original sin” because this truth is only found within the veiled Land of Shadow, as Miquella had to go there to learn of it. Messmer is the keeper of this truth, for he defends Marika’s village and has hoarded the knowledge of it in his Keep. He knows firsthand that Marika is flawed. While this does not alter his love for her as his mother, it may have affected his faith in her as his god.

Consider the way this item description is written:

Prior to being “hidden away” in the LoS, Messmer had no reason to doubt his mother and her actions, for Mother must know best. But with time and separation, this perception wavers—without her company, all he has left is the pain within and around him. He realizes that it was not because it was best for him or because of some greater plan that she abandoned him here: it was solely out of fear. That is when the seeds of hatred are sown, grow, and ultimately, would not be confined (the transformation into the base serpent representing the release of this hatred). Hatred for Marika, who he curses upon defeat.

The word choice of “secreting” and “hiding” Messmer away, and how Marika does this after and despite mutilating him to implant the seal of grace, paints a rather negative impression of her perception of her son. As though his mere existence was something incredibly shameful that she had to hide from everyone. She used to make physicks for him, but stopped. Why? Because eventually her goals as a god overtook her love as a mother, and the Order ordained her to be afraid of snakes and flame. Likewise, it was to the benefit of her reputation to hide the truth of the original sin; sealing the LoS was like killing two birds with one stone.

It could be read as though Marika’s fear is fear that her son won’t be accepted even with the seal, and that she hid him away to protect him—this is a fair interpretation of her actions, but it certainly isn’t what Messmer thinks. Her attempt to implant grace into him wouldn’t have inevitably failed if he believed in her without question. Whether or not she did it to protect him, it was her act of abandoning of him that led him to break the seal, and we Tarnished were just the catalyst.

If you look at it that way, every time Marika tried to help Messmer, she ended up ruining him further.

-Froggo

P.S. This isn’t related but, the seal really is the only source of grace he has, for he loses his holy resistance in phase 2. And that fact just kinda destroys me on the inside.

[mayson-jarz-artz101]

Loved participating in the Ben and his siblings chat but it also brought up some points on the brellies and their trauma! So let’s do a bit of a deep dive into all of them and see what makes up our umbrella family.

Keep in mind, I’m not a psychologist or anything, I’ve just finished a college class about it but I’m nowhere near an expert. I’m just going off things I myself know and what I can see.

First we’ll start with Luther!

Part 2: Diego

Luther:

Luther seemed to develop a dependency on Reginald? In the beginning, he never doubted him and he always stood by him. Maybe he was scared if he didn’t stay with Reginald, Grace and Pogo, he’d have nothing. He tried to keep the siblings together as the leader but they all left, feeding Luther’s abandonment issues. Then..Reginald sent him to the moon. Ik as a fandom when season 1 was the only thing we had, we all made fun of Luther for constantly bringing up the moon and why Reginald sent him there but it’s really important for his character. Luther went because Reginald told him to but eventually the loneliness got to him. Reginald never told him WHY he was there only that it was important. Later we found out it’s for Abigail’s corpse. When Luther came back and found out Reginald never opened the samples he sent, he thought he was sent for no reason. That Reginald just wanted to get rid of him. This fed into his abandonment issues.

This might also be why Luther got so attached to Allison and eventually formed an incestual relationship? He felt like he’d never find a normal girl to love so he went with the only girl to show him affection? (Not saying it was okay at all, I’m just trying to understand WHY he’d do it).

Then we also have his accident where he got the gorilla body. This is obviously body dysmorphia and he tries everything he can to hide it by constantly wearing long sleeves and gloves. In the comics he also binge eats during a depressive episode so..

In season 1, all of his decisions seem heavily based on “would Reginald do it.” Then after he discovers Reginald sent him to the moon for no reason he was told of, he had to figure it all out on his own but he couldn’t…so he went through a rebellion phase and went to party, taking some drugs and taking a girl home. He hated it so he never did it again. Then he just tried to keep the family together and went back trying to he the leader.

In season 2, he seemed to join an underground fighting ring 1. For money and 2. To get his anger and frustrations out. It’s a coping mechanism for him. Also why after the whole Allison thing, he let the guy beat him up. He thought he deserved it. Then Five sort of helps him out of the rut because he promised to get them home. So Luther tries to lead to Five and take care of him, like a good leader. He failed because now there’s two fives and they’re both insane.

In season 3, he’s completely infatuated by Sloane. It’s a girl he likes but he doesn’t know how to handle liking a girl so he’s going a bit…4th grade girl with her crush. Idk if it would count as incest because Reginald never adopted him in this timeline but they both call him dad and they both refer to Ben as their brother so..in a way, they’re siblings?…anyway, he’s coping with everything by focusing on Sloane.

In season 4 (which doesn’t exist), he’s trying to rebuild his childhood home to make it into something he never had. But he also was starting to have some self doubt, as we see in a deleted scene with him and Diego in the CIA where he asks Diego if he was a good leader. He probably had a feeling the end of the world was coming so he wanted just a bit of validation from his brother, to know he did a good job. Something Reginald would never tell him. And then, he died in his childhood home. The home he could never rebuild to make it nice. But at least he died with his siblings and not alone, like he feared.

So here’s Luther..feel free to add anything I missed! Luther is mostly based on abandonment issues, self doubt and body dysmorphia.

[faithfullyfound]

The Power of the Lord

God will use anyone, and I mean anyone to spread His message. I often wonder why God allowed me to find Him, allowed me to accept Him, I often wonder why I am so blessed to belong to this kingdom.

But then I fear that by following Him I am missing out on the world. I fear I'm missing out on experiences that I will never be able to have if I continue walking in faith.

But this is so ridiculously stupid. Sure I might miss out on parties, drinking, etc. but that is nothing compared to the light, joy, and patience God's goodness and grace give me. I also remember what my life looked like when I was a lukewarm Christian. I practiced witchcraft (convincing myself that this was ok), I affirmed sin, I was depressed, I was anxious, but most notably I was so confused. I questioned my existence and if I even mattered. I felt confused in my own body and I did not truly care about myself.

But after I found God, and truly grew with Jesus I felt loved, and accepted. I still struggle with anxiety and intrusive thoughts at times but I am NOT CONFUSED. I have eyes to see the evil present in our world. I have eyes to see TRUE CHRISTIANITY and most notably I have a tongue to proclaim that Jesus is Lord, and He's my Savior. Not only has He saved me from my inevitable death but He's saved me from dying right now. Every time I sin I am digging my own grave but Jesus picks me up when I stumble and He truly loves me.

It is so hard for me to listen to the Lord's voice because I fear I am becoming a "crazy Christian" someone who is doing too much and could potentially push people away from the Gospel. But at the end of the day, I need to remember that my hope is found in Jesus. He is my Savior no one else.

For Luke 14:33 ESV says, "So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple." We are called to give everything up. I will be very transparent and say there are habits, shows, and friendships that I haven't given up to the Lord. But I pray that through the power of conviction in the Holy Spirit the Lord leads me and anyone else reading this to live a life where we can renounce everything for our Lord.

Isaiah 42:16-19 CSB says, "I will lead the blind by a way they did not know; I will turn darkness to light in front of them and fought places into level ground. This is what I will do for them, and I will not abandon them." If the creator of the universe can do this much for me I can give up my fears and worries to Him.

For while my flesh has led me astray and gives me doubt and death and destruction. Following God gives me peace and clarity which I value more than any happiness that things of the world have given me. I remember praying for people to like me, my crushes to be my Valentine, etc. and then feeling betrayed by God when that did not happen. But God sees the bigger picture and He's looking out for me. I do not need to know God's exact plans for me I just need to trust in Him. Even amid my struggles, temptations, etc. I will trust in Him.

*Also side-note but I literally was wondering how to get closer to God and I wanted to feel His presence so I opened my Bible just randomly and turned to Isaiah 42 which in my bible is titled The Servants Mission & A Song of Praise, which both perfectly told me who I am in Christ. Trust me Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit are always with you.

[banapricot]

800 words of an old abandoned WIP where Klaus has the bonus ability to detect lies.

“I hope I find out what my powers are soon,” Seven says one morning. 

Four usually likes breakfast, because Dad doesn’t eat it with them, so they’re allowed to talk. Today, though, his head is aching, and the pain worsened when his sister opened her mouth.

“Not gonna happen,” Three sings, still mad at Seven for breaking her doll yesterday. “You don’t have any powers.” 

Lie, something hisses.

“You don’t know that! Four doesn’t know what his are yet, either!” 

“Yeah, but Dad said you’re ordinary.”

Lie, his heart screams again, and Four doesn’t hear the ensuing fight over the pounding of his skull.  + 

It keeps happening.

Dad tells them he replaced the nannies because they were spoiling them, and Four doubts he actually had much of an option. The cookies are all eaten and Four gets annoyed when Six swears he didn’t touch them, because he totally did. Three insists that Seven is ordinary, and Four struggles not to pass out.  

It takes longer to be sure about this than the ghosts, because he doesn’t speak to that many people, but Four proves it to himself over and over.

He has another ability.

He doesn’t tell anyone. He was going to, really, but then he noticed Dad hides a lot from them, and learned that people don’t like it when you know about their secrets. His siblings don’t, at least, and Dad definitely didn’t the one time Four mustered the courage to ask about a lie he told, so he’s not going to call him out again.

Even though he really wants to know why they’re pretending Seven doesn’t have powers. 

+

Dad introduces them to Grace.

Within a few months Four trusts her more than anyone, because she always tells the truth. That changes once he's nine.  

Dad had taken Four to the cemetery, and Four screamed and pleaded and asked why, like they always do, and their father said they needed to get over their fear, like he always does. Except he broke routine, elaborating on his answer just the slightest bit, claiming it was for their sake, that it was in Four’s best interest, that they should cooperate so that he can help them. 

It all rang false, the resounding dishonesty lacking any hint of shame or regret.

So when Four was let out of his cage they cried into their mother’s arms, asked her why their father did things that hurt them. She smiled, perfect and plastic, said everything Sir Reginald did was for their own good, that he loved them. 

And they understood, then, that the absence of a lie is not the same thing as the presence of a truth. 

After that revelation, Four never manages to believe a word that comes out of her metal mouth.  

+

“So, ghosts,” The interviewer begins. ”What are they like?”

He desperately wants to tell them about the gore, the noise, the lack of humanity. He needs someone to help him deal with the unbearable knowledge of what comes after, with the unknowns that are almost as awful, with the possibility he’ll eventually suffer the same horrible fate of those who haunt him. He opens his mouth to let it all out, have a little breakdown on national television, but that would not go over well with Daddy dearest. 

“Weirdly normal,” He says instead, coming up with a pretty lie for people to comfort themselves with. “Like, the ones that have been around for decades are odd, because of the difference in time periods. For the most part they stay to watch over their loved ones. Some will hang around for a while to see if their killers are brought to justice, and go to the light afterwards, but they’re a lot less angry about being murdered than you’d expect. I guess dying brings peace that’s hard to find in life.”

+  

Of course, the moment they’ve gotten used to their new lives, one of them goes and destroys the status quo. 

Five storms off after an argument with their father and never comes back. No goodbye, no corpse found in a morgue, no ghost anywhere Klaus can reach. Their brother disappears without even making his mind up about what fucking name he wants. 

Klaus refuses to mourn him, as the days drag on for months and melt into years, because death is their whole thing, and they know Five isn’t dead.

So One, Two, Three, and Six grieve with Pogo, as Seven stubbornly waits. Klaus does neither, because their brother is alive, but he probably won’t return. Instead they try to summon Five whenever they’re sober, relieved by every failure, and wonder what the snarky bastard might be doing.

Their father isn’t grieving, never having loved them, and their mother is incapable of feeling negative emotions. 

[churchtime]

I thank God everyday for his infinite wisdom and love and He continues to teach me everyday and grow stronger every time i fall down.

His love by giving us life, letting life go on for so long, and having his son die on the cross for our sins solidifies how much God loves us.

He doesnt want us to give up on him because he wants us to be in heaven regardless. Just because he may say i never knew you one day during life doesnt mean we cant work to believe that he'll make a way. It doesnt mean we still cant do right by God and obtain salvation.

There are scriptures that speak on that he doesnt give us a spirit of fear, and how we can persevere. The devil wants us to think we cant be saved or we should give up going to heaven. But the word says we should believe.

We need to build a better relationship with God and Jesus. We need to not let anything discourage us from getting to heaven. Repent often, thank him greatly and abundantly, and try to show God obedience and a willing to learn.

For God is slow to anger and shows us mercy and grace when we acknowledge wrongs and work towards change. The bible is filled with the most atrocious people that won God's favor by turning their life to follow him.

And Jesus knows we can be ignorant dumb idiots sometimes that go too far in sin. But as he hung on the cross before his death he told God "Forgive them Father, for they do not know" He wanted mercy on the sinners that had evil in them and hated him. He died on the cross so we could have chances and change. That we could get to heaven and get salvation. Only the devil would put doubt in you and say its not possible.

Jesus did say "Not all people who cry "Lord, Lord" will get into heaven." and that he would claim to never know them. But he doesnt want you to give up hope. God wants us to stay in the faith. Keep in the word.

Talk to him and have a relationship with him. As long as we make an effort to redeem ourselves when we stumble. As long as we have a redemption arc after our villian arc there is hope.

God will make a way. He only hates the sin not the sinner. And just because you feel like you lost him or he rejected you dont stop trying to be the christian he wants you to be. You may mess up, but as long as you repent and get back up and never quit. God will make a way. God loves you. Jesus died for us all so even though the gate to heaven is narrow its not impossible.

We need to believe in God and Jesus. Believe in miracles they can make. Philippians 4:13 says "i can do all things through Christ which strengthens me" and that we had to have the faith of a mustard seed. And that we can pray to move mountains but yet we lack faith. That God provides and that we should want to get to heaven for hell is perilous with torment and fire.

You do have the freedom to choose. But why not choose life? Why not let Jesus get to know us? Why not believe that God wants whats best for us and doesnt want us to suffer?

If he has told you i never knew you or hadnt answered your prayers dont assume he has abandoned you. God said i'll never leave nor forsake you. He also does things in his time so he might say otherwise if you complete what he wants you to complete. He is patient and loving. By that logic he would never contradict himself or be flawed for he is omnipotent.

Make sure you grow good fruit and be diligent in wanting righteousness and what is good. Talk to God when you can and stay in the word. But never give up. You will fall but if you do get back up and keep trying. You came so far not to give up now. And believe in God and that with all your heart. Love God and Jesus with all your heart.

Thank God for everything and thank Jesus for his sacrifice. And show them you are infinitely in debt to them. For He is all powerful, loving, and compassionate. He does not hate you, he doesnt want you in hell, no matter what dont give in. Dont lose hope.

[rewriteyourhistorywithgod]

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. – Isaiah 41:10

God’s promises for our lives fill the Bible. He promises us safety, love, guidance, wisdom, forgiveness, and more. God fulfills his promises. If ever in doubt of God fulfilling his promises remember he promised us forgiveness and sent his son to die on the cross for our sins so we are forgiven. As a mother myself, I could never imagine sending my child to slaughter for the wrong doings of others but God did so we could be saved.

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. – Deuteronomy 31:8

God’s promise in Deuteronomy 31:8 is to never forsaken or abandon us. He fulfills that promise every day with the blessings in your life. It is us as humans who tend to forsake God especially at a time of struggle. It is easy for us to turn away when things are bad but stay faithful when our circumstances are good. Why is this?

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. – Proverbs 3:5

Have you ever had to scold a child for wrongdoing? When they shy away or look away they don’t want to face their convictions. We are the same with God. When we are sinning it is harder for us to attend church, praise God, and trust in his promises. When we turn away from God though he still walks besides us and ensures we are safe. We as God’s children need to be sure to praise God even in our roughest and darkest places and not rely on our own understanding or judgement. We must turn everything to God without holding back. We can’t not expect a relationship with our spouse, children, etc to thrive without open communication and honesty so how can we expect one to thrive with God if we do not trust and don’t communicate.

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. – 1 Peter 5:10

When we go through the darkest times of our life and remain faithful God will bless us beyond measure. He will restore and strengthen you. As you walk your path remember to worship God through the light and dark times, for the blessings unto will pour.

[spiritsoulandbody]

#DailyDevotion Have Hope When It Seems God Has Left You & Forsaken You

#DailyDevotion Have Hope When It Seems God Has Left You & Forsaken You Psalm 27 Don't leave me or forsake me, O God, my Savior! 10If my father and my mother forsake me, the LORD will take care of me. We cry out in doubt sometimes when we don't feel the presence of the LORD. As we are undergoing some cross in our lives, we may cry out with David, |”Don't leave me or forsake me, O God my Savior.” Yet in those words which sound of doubt there is faith. For we are still calling upon God as Savior. David in the midst of trials and tribulations fears the LORD will abandon him. Yet, he cries out in faith for the LORD not to do that. He even goes as far as believing that even if mother and father forsake him, the LORD will take care of him. We need to remember words like these to pray when everything seems to be falling down all around us. When we lose husbands, wives, children, jobs, health and the like, it may feel as if the LORD has left us and forsaken us. Yet if we look to Jesus Christ on the cross crying out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me,” we know that He cried that out in faith. On the third day, the Father raised Jesus from the dead and sat Him down at His right hand in heaven. The Father didn't abandon Jesus in the grave. He will not abandon you to whatever you are experiencing right now. The LORD will take care of you. Jesus has promised us in Matt. 6:8, “Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Again He says in Matt. 6, “26Look at the birds in the air. They don't sow or cut grain or gather anything into barns; but your Father in heaven feeds them. Aren't you worth more than they?” Again Jesus says, “30If that's how God dresses the grass in the field, which lives today and tomorrow is thrown into a stove, how much more certainly will He put clothes on you — you who trust Him so little?” Finally Jesus tells us, “Your Father in heaven knows you need them all. 33Seek first God's kingdom and righteousness, and all these things will be given to you, too” 11O LORD, teach me Your way, and lead me on an even path as I face those who hate me. The LORD was teaching us there in Matt. 6 about trusting God knows what we need and when to provide it. We ask the LORD to continue to teach us in the midst of our suffering His way. We need Him to lead us on an even path as we face our enemies who hate us, namely those authorities, powers, dominions and spirits of the air that hate us. God's thoughts are higher than our thoughts and His ways are higher than our own. We need only read the Sermon on the Mount and on the Plain to hear the thoughts and the ways of our LORD and God. We need only look to the cross of Jesus Christ to know the mind of our Father in heaven. There we find our value and worth to Him, even if it looks like He values us like He values His Son on the cross. It doesn't look like He values Jesus at all there. But there our sins are paid for. There our trespasses, iniquity and guilt are removed from us. There we know our Father's great love for us and that while it may appear at times He doesn't love us or value us, that is just our sinful flesh and the voice of our enemies talking. This is the way and even path the LORD reveals to us. Heavenly Father, when we feel you are forsaking us and leaving us, reveal to us Your great love for us in Christ Jesus so we may not abandon all hope but cling to Your mercy and grace all the more and learn Your ways and walk on Your path. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen. Read the full article

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

A Family

Masterlist

Summary: Fleeing Cintra was tough but you couldn’t abandon Ciri, she was a life long friend, she was family. But now there was a witcher involved,  her so called soul father popping up out of nowhere. Her father. Her destiny, not yours. so it didn’t matter if you fell into his good graces i mean it wouldn’t be long before your out on your ass and told to leave kaer morhen right?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Paternal Geralt, platonic love, Geralt has a brood now, swearing, teenage rebellion, dad Geralt, spanking, parental discipline.  

A/n: something a little different for you all. I’m super anxious about this because of the spanking in it, but this is completely non sexual.

Word count: 6466

Ciri paced the room worriedly stopping every few steps and held her head to the side trying to listen. She was worried, worried about Geralt and the leshy, worried about you and what ever trouble you’d be in for running off into the keep when you got scared.

Suddenly the door opened making her jump, yelping as she spun around only to relax and dash towards the white haired witcher and embrace him tightly. Geralt hummed pulling her closer tipping his head down squeezing her tightly. And then extended his other arm waiting for you to fall into him.

He frowned and flicked his gaze around the room. One. There was only one here? Where were you? Geralt pulled his head up taking a second to pray to what ever deity would listen that you were curled up sleeping like a log on the bed.

His eyes darted to the bed. Empty. Fuck. His eyes quickly scanned the room still hoping you were here but he already knew you weren’t. He heaved a deep breath and huffed irritated. Why did you have to pull this shit? It was bad enough with Ciri trying to defy almost everything he was doing to keep her safe. But you were much worse.

Extremely bitter towards him, an animosity and loathing for him that seemed to go beyond anything else he'd seen in humans. For the life of him he couldn’t  understand why, he hadn’t done anything to you, and this was much more then a dislike for his kind. It felt personal. Hell he looked after you, fed you kept you warm and safe along with your surrogate sister. He actually came to care for you to.

"Ciri? Where is Ewa? Wasn’t  she here with you?" Geralt finally grunted causing Ciri to sigh and step back.

"She err...she got scared and... She was caught up with the women as they fled, they sort of pushed her" Ciri explained trying not to feel guilty for unable to grab you from the panicking women.

Geralt swore, almost snarling in frustration his eyes glowed a brighter amber as the pupils contracted. Ciri drew a deep breath, it was his tell tale sign of worry, fear even! His eyes did the same thing anytime she was in harms way. It warmed her heart. You had doubts about your place within the new familial group. Ciri relaxed a little seeing that she was right, that Geralt had grown to care for you as well as her.

"Ewa left? Wha-how could she be so stupid!?"

"Geralt"

"Fuck! Don’t  worry, stay here I will go find her"

"No Geralt wait; just please wait a moment" Ciri chased him a few steps grasping his arm making him pause. His eyes roamed her for a second questioningly, why wasn’t  she letting him chase you? For all he knew you could be half way down the mountain by now with those women.

"What is it? What’s going on?" He asked voice dipping lower than before concern etched into each word.

"Ciri?" He prompted once more when the girl remained silent.

"I don’t  think she would have left with them. She’s just scared Geralt" Ciri began trying to choose her words carefully. She knew you hadn’t left the keep, she wasn’t  sure how but she did.

"Scared? What of the leshy? Then she should have stayed put" Geralt huffed shrugging and crossing his arms with a scoff.

"Yes that and well... she’s also? Well she’s scared of you" Ciri gave up on finding the words and just blurted them out. Geralt tensed under her hand, eyes widening, face growing soft yet a steely defensive look glossed his eyes.

"She’s scared of me? What, why?" Geralt frowned almost offended by the accusation. He didn’t  want you to fear him, he just wanted to be on the same side, he wanted obedience and to trust you’d be sensible when he isn’t around.

"No.. well yes but not how you think... She’s scared of caring for you. She thinks she’s a burden and that you hate her. That you merely tolerate her for my sake" Ciri uttered divulging this truth behind your behaviour towards the witcher

"That’s stupid, I care for her she should know that by now"  Geralt gruffed out almost speaking under his breath scoffing and shaking his head. Unwilling to believe you were such an emotional little soul. By everything he's seen of you, you were a hell raiser. A rebel right down to your Stoney core, nothing could truly get to you.

"She doesn’t  believe that. She’s never had that type of thing, family, acceptance, love?" Ciri explained releasing Geralt’s arm and stepped back. Geralt spun to face her a little stunned. You’d never had a family? Ever? He hadn't known that. At the silence Ciri continued to drop the bombshell.

"She-Ewa was abandoned at the castle back gate, she was a few weeks old the servants took her in gave her food and kept her alive but she was put to work as soon as she could hold a wash cloth." Ciri added wincing as her promise to never retell your story echoed in her mind. But this was for your own good, Geralt had to know how truly vulnerable you were, what your insecurities were. Because until he put them to rest you were going to continue being reckless out of your own fear and one day Ciri would loose you because of it.

"She was a servant scrubbing floors. It wasn’t  until I saw her and took to her as a friend that things changed. I begged and begged that she got to be my companion. It took weeks but my grandmother finally gave in" the blonde sat on her bed recounting the many weeks it took for her grandmother to let Ciri call the little servant a friend. Up until then Ciri didn’t  have many friends  around her own age, even then your were a good few years older, now sixteen to her thirteen.

But your bond was strong, you were the older sister she could lean on, an older sister she loved dearly. You protected her from more then just the courtiers sons who’d tried to build bonds that would get them on the throne.

"Not that she got any kindness either way... we grew up together, she was the only friend I was allowed. A sister. As her sister I know her and she is... as terrified as me for different reasons" Geralt listened carefully committing each detail to memory effectively rebuilding his image of you as Ciri continued explaining her genuine thoughts surrounding you and your idiocy.

"Until I found you she was all I had left in the world. And I was all she had. But I have you now, a chance at another life. A... A chance to have father figure, she feels left out. Like she doesn’t  belong anymore." Ciri ended with a sigh and leant forward resting her head in her hands feeling guilty as sin. She felt like she was going to drive you away somehow if she pressed the issue but still she wanted you to see how wrong you were. Geralt’s intervention was the only way things would get better, begrudgingly she knew this wasn’t  something that will fix itself.

"Has she said something?" Geralt asked wanting to know for definite if this was all speculation or if you’d tried to reach out and he missed it.

"Well.. sort of. I asked why she was avoiding me and quiet... she just said we need to bond she doesn’t  want to interfere with our fate. I think she’s scared you'll make her leave" Ciri repeated the words that had been playing on her mind. It wasn’t  so much your words but how you spat them out like poison, as if the idea of sticking around was the worst thing you could ever endure.

But in reality she knew you were frightened. You had a soft spot for Geralt, you liked him a lot and respected him.  But at the same time feared him and being rejected by him. Didn’t  want to get your hopes up if you’d be abandoned again later.

"So that’s it?" Geralt huffed with a humourless laugh giving himself a mental pat on the back for finally figuring out a teenagers problem.

"What?" Ciri asked frowning but Geralt drew a deep breath and took a seat beside Ciri on the bed  with a grunt.

"Why she’s being so difficult. Its not some final teenage rebellion or just to be a pain in my ass. She’s scared she'll end up abandoned again. That I’ll take her remaining family away from her, replace her somehow" Geralt shook his head he wished he'd known your background before snapping at you for being obstinate, drawing his own conclusion that your were just a ratty teenager that didn’t  have the same self control that Cirilla had because you were a servant. Fuck. His constant scolding’s and gruff rebukes must have made you feel more and more isolated.

"You never really spoke to her though.. You bicker and she thinks she’s unwanted, that you hate her for being human and useless. She snapped at me, she didn’t  mean to but... She feels weak" Ciri continued feeling as if she had to elaborate for  you, to speak on your behalf.

"When we travelled together- after leaving Cintra she.. she was strong, she protected me alone Geralt. And that became her purpose. Now that’s what your doing. She’s lost the one job she had left" Geralt smiled at her shaking his head. God he felt sorry for anyone who had crossed you both alone in the wilderness. He could imagine you mouthing off and trying to stab people with a pointy stick, like you had him when they first met. The tiny teenager had flew at him so fast he almost suffered the pointy end on her stick.

He grunted in amusement before standing once more. And patted Ciri on the shoulder.

"Well I suppose I should go find her and settle this. Thank you Ciri for explaining more. Give me ghouls and monsters and I know what I’m doing but teenagers? I’m still trying to catch up" he uttered walking to the door, this time with much more purpose than before. He had an idea of exactly what it was going to take to finally get through to you. And you wasn’t  going to like it. Not one bit.

"Wait what are you going to do? Geralt?" Ciri called worry evident in her voice as she questioned him.

Geralt stopped at the open door and turned to look at his child surprise over his shoulder. He pondered his next words and then smirked.

"I’m going to give her a piece of my mind, and no doubt she will give me a piece of hers... one final battle of wills will fix this. Wait here, get some rest we will come get you soon" he vaguely explained and then strode off before Ciri could pry any further. She didn’t  need to know what was about to happen.

You squeaked as the two witchers glanced up at you again... Oh shit. You huffed trying to climb higher on the shelving unit you were perched on. When lambert came closer cursing at you ordering you to get down.

"Lambert leave her be, she cant get down, she isn’t fond of heights" Geralt lied whilst huffed as he waltzed into the room after following your scent and the rapid heart beat of a human in peril.

He tipped his head back crossing his arms over his chest and raised his brows. You’d actually gotten quite high, a good ten feet off the ground. And honestly he was a little impressed.

"Not fond of heights? Then how did she end up half way up the fucking apothecary shelf?!" Lambert yelled raising a hand motioning to you clumsily trying to remain on the wooden beam.

"Get down here now! Before I come up there myself!" He added seething at you. You shrunk into the shelf

"Bite me ginge-" you hissed calling him the derogatory term for red haired. He pursed his lips and lunged at the shelf readying to climb and drag you down so he could throttle you. You both knew he wasn’t  angry about you climbing, oh no. He was pissed because Vesemir had hounded him about letting you sneak past him with the other women. You'd wounded the mighty witchers pride.

"Lambert! Easy, easy I’ll handle her" Geralt yelled latching onto his brother in arms, holding him back. Lambert slapped him away and growled 'you better, she needs to learn some fucking respect' giving you one last look before stalking out of the room.

"Geralt she cant do this-" Vesemir began slowly watching the younger witcher closely. He had a few guesses of how Geralt was going to handle your disobedience but was unsure if the wolf had it in him to follow through. Vesemir wasn’t  above dealing with this type of stupidity himself if need be.

"I know vesemir, I know I will handle it. Just like you taught us" Geralt huffed closing his eyes not needing to hear the prepared lecture.

You on the other hand were becoming more and more confused. What the fuck was going on? Was there some sort of witcher code speak or something? Why were they all speaking in half sentences? You grunted and glared harder, willing them to feel daggers.

"Good. She sorely needs something to straighten her out. Just remember wolf she disobeyed. And she could have gotten someone killed, not just herself" you gulped as Vesemir cast you another glance serious yet understanding. The look of a man who had seen it all before. But then again he raised a group of witchers so he probably had seen it all before. You felt uneasy, Geralt was just as clueless and the next man but vesemir? He was a smart cookie. He could see through you, could see your vulnerability. It irked you.

"I know Vesemir. I know trust me to take care of it. This wont happen again" Geralt hummed pointing in your directing, a sweeping motion over  the shelf you were latched onto.

"Make sure she learns this lesson well wolf. She has to adapt quickly and trust you know what’s best. This cannot happen again, for her sake next time could be-" you frowned at the foreboding.  And just what the hell did Geralt mean he will take care of it? He wont do shit! He cant do shit! Your nothing to him, and he is nothing to you. Your meeting was just circumstantial. Much to your disappointment your relationship with the witcher as mutual tolerance at best.

"She will learn many lessons today." Geralt trailed off. You grunted under your breath when he locked eyes on you, this time he seemed different. Sad almost? Sympathetic? Was he sympathising with the weak little human? Thinks of you as nothing but a scared rabbit sent to be his everyday inconvenience? Asshole!

It was only when the door closed behind Vesemir that Geralt actually spoke. Choosing to have some privacy before launching into another spat and duel of words.

"Ewa come down here" to your utter surprise the command was tired, exhausted. Nothing smug or angry about it. He didn’t  even seem to have that ever present disappointed air about him he had when interacting with you.

"No" you pouted quite happy to keep your distance from him. He was acting weird and it wasn’t  lost on you that he intended to deal with your little hide and seek stunt. What ever that entailed.

"Yes, you cant stay up there all day, your arms are already shaking you'll fall any second" he argued waving to your arms that were quivering under you as the half knelt on the shelf, hands holding the wood as it your life depended on it.

"i-is it gone?" You asked a small tremble in your words that you cursed afterwards. You didn’t  want to be scared or weak. But? You were, you were scared and you did run away in a panic. And you’d darted up here god knows how to try and wait out the shit storm.

"Yes. Yes we dealt with it....You really are stuck up there aren’t you?" Geralt spoke softly, trying to coax you into a calmer state whilst also offering to help in a backwards kind of way. Implying he would come and retrieve you if you needed him to.

"A little I don’t  know how I got up.. I just did" you uttered after a small pause, you could feel yourself give in to the small scared feeling again.

"That doesn’t  shock me, humans can surprise themselves sometimes" Geralt huffed with a small smile. You sounded genuinely shocked you’d managed such a feet. He wasn’t  though, he knew you were agile just by looking at you, you just needed the right motivation.

You sighed and turned back facing the witcher and began trying to climb down with shaky limbs. You squeaked when the shelf wobbled and Geralt quickly ran up to the wood pressing his hand on it to hold it steady. You huffed and tried finding a foot hold only to slip and almost fall from your spot.

"No! Hang on- no you stay there let me help, your going to crack your scull or something stupid" Geralt grunted and began scaling the shelf crawling up it.

"I’m not fucking stupid!" You snapped only to yelp as your hand slipped again. Finally you gave up and held tight praying you could stay on the wood long enough for Geralt to come and get you. Not that you needed the help really. You just wasn’t  going to kick a gift horse in the mouth.

"Well running blindly through a witcher strong hold after being told to stay put when there’s a leshy roaming around the halls aren't the actions of a genius is it? You didn’t  even take your stick" Geralt deadpanned as he managed to climb up alongside you grabbing one of your dangling feet and planting it on a sturdy wooden beam so you had more grip.

"Fuck off you musty old goat!" You snarled down at him quickly feeling the need to lash out again.

"Neither is cussing out a witcher whose already annoyed with you" the witcher grunted coming to a stop at your hip. And began trying to manoeuvre you so he could get you down.

"What for!? So I ran? I fucking panicked I cant help that oh mighty wolf-witcher fuck face!" You seethed flushing red and tried shaking him off now determined to get down without help.

"That’s enough! Now stop trying to wriggle away! Come here. I've had just about enough of this attitude of yours" the wolf barked at you frustrated as you slapped at his hand. Only for him to catch it and hold tight.

"Well I've had about enough of yours!" You scoffed back at him but moved to take his hand and climb down, the witcher moved quicker than you could dodge. His hand latched onto your wrist and tugged slumping you over his shoulder muttering to hold on. You yelped and squirmed on his shoulder kicking your feet out trying to find the shelves behind you. But as Geralt began moving down the high shelves you clutched onto him, feeling yourself panic.

Anger began to follow the panic, angry at yourself for relying on him. You couldn’t  afford to! One day you’d be out on your ass  alone. And if you get too used to sitting here being sheltered again you’d just have to go through all the devastation of learning how to survive again. Just like when you first fled with Ciri. You had to be strong, tough and self sufficient.

Lost in your thought you didn’t  even realise you were being place safely on the floor. Geralt sighed when you snapped out of your deep thought and glared at him venomously before stepping back and made to turn away and stomp off.

You gasped when his hand wrapped around your forearm jerking you to face him again. You hissed wordlessly as he tugged, dragging you to face him. Your tummy churned when you finally looked up at him. He looked strange, there wasn’t  as much anger but something softer in the amber eyes. It made you falter, but only for a second. Your irritation came back, you made to snap at him to let you go but he stepped closer tipping his head down at you sighing.

"You were told to stay with Ciri" his voice was gravely and you could see the exasperation. He was fed up with you. You looked away deflating once again reminded that you were a thorn in his side nothing more. He kept you alive to keep his child surprise happy.

"I know that but i-" you grunted trying to act indifferent to the subtle rejection once again. Geralt growled and shook you slightly drawing your attention back to him.

"But nothing. You were told. You have to understand when you are with me, you need to do as your told" he scolded raising his other hand to point it at you, wagging his finger in your face. You growled and snapped your teeth at him then growled again as his reflexes proved to be as good as ever and you missed.

"Do as I’m told- Geralt I’m fucking sixteen summers old! I deserve to be treated like an adult just like you!" You yelled swinging at his arm trying to wriggle free.

"sixteen means nothing to me girl. I've lived almost ten times that. You are a child, and a bratty one at that!" He growled now losing his patience with you, having to resort to shaking you slightly to make you stop slapping at his hand that was now pink from your persistent beating. Not that it hurt it was just annoying. 

"Hey; you take that back! I didn’t  even mean to fucking do this! You think I wanted to end up half way up there?" you screeched feeling every bit as angry as before, frustration and panic all rolling into one big mass of ugly rage. You looked at him and felt horrible each and every single time. It was even worse when he was pretending to be all caring. It was down right sickening.

"Then why? What caused you to run through these halls when you were told to stay put? Why would you put yourself at risk?! Running off to god knows where to be found by god knows what?!"

"What would you have done if you’d run head first into that leshy?! I wouldn’t have been there Ewa! I wouldn’t have been able to fucking save you! SO WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?!"

"Geralt I just.. I got frightened, the room was shaking Ciri was scared and- the other women ran and I was pushed along with them" you shrugged and tried to tug your arm free of the man, hoping that your little ounce of truth would be enough to satisfy him and he'd let you go on your way.

"And then? You could have turned back" he pried further wanting to know just how far you went with those whores, at what point did you decide to abandon them and hide.

"I did.. The women they wanted me to go with them, said I could make a lot of money but I... walked them to the main door then I came back. And hid in here so I wouldn’t be caught by Lambert and have to deal with his bitching" you shrugged knowing he wasn’t  going to let this go. At least not without a few more answers.

"Instead you now have to deal with mine" Geralt drawled smiling tightly at you trying to find a little humorous irony in the whole situation.

"I'm sorry okay? It was dumb I just... I was frightened" you huffed maintaining your story hoping the witcher would give up.

"I know that. But you are under my care. You need to trust me to decide what’s best for you now" Geralt began trying to subtly slip in the notion of him caring about you. But ever the observant little human you latched onto it quickly.

"Care? Don’t  make me laugh Geralt, I’m tagging along with Ciri; I’m only here because I grew up with her in Cintra and she wants one reminder of happier times." You scoffed trying to play off your own feelings as sarcastic digs.

"I do care for you" Geralt turned grasping your biceps and shook you quickly. He crouched down to your eye level holding your shocked gaze. But quickly your shock became another wave of anger.

"No you don’t  care for me a single bit; you care about Ciri. If anything I’m just a fucking burden- your lumbered with me for her sake" your voice carried across the room echoing on the walls making the male hiss as your high pitch resounded in his ears.

"That is not true and you know it" he growled down at you feeling himself quickly loosing grip on his own frustration rising as you refused to accept him as your new protector

"I care for you as I do her, you may not be my child of surprise, but you are a sister to her and that makes you mine just as much as she is" he added with a dry swallow eyes roaming you over and over trying to see any indication of you coming around.

"oh spare me-" you tried dismissing him with a growl, once again pulling on your arm trying to make some distance between you both. This was getting heated again and you didn’t  want an argument.

"I mean it. And I’m going to show you." He ground out tensing his fingers and dragged you towards him making you stagger slightly. You huffed at him leaning back snarling in fury as he began to slowly cross the space .

"Oh fucking really? And how are you going to do that? Stop being and asshole? I doubt you can manage!" You yelled at him seething as you tried pulling away from him, but you were dragged cross the room, your boots sliding on the floor.

"Well first I’m going give you a rude awakening and then we are going to put all this animosity behind us and start anew with the understanding that you are just as much apart of all this as Ciri is." He huffed not eve  bothering to throw you a loom over his shoulder as he closed the gap between him and the bench at the other side of the room.

"A rude awakening? The fuck are you on about?!" You squinted, racing your brain trying to solve yet another witcher riddle! You were so sick of having to guess half of what he said. It pissed you off, why cant he just be straight forward and tell you shit!

You made to shout at him some more but he spun on you crouching over you fiercely anger and frustration in his golden gaze. His pupils contracting dangerously. In any normal circumstances you’d scoff at him about 'witchers controlling their emotions' but instead you shrunk. There was something else in his eyes, you couldn’t  put your finger on it, but there was something there that made you feel small.

"Quite frankly I’m tired of your tantrums. You may have got away with this behaviour before but it stops now." He spoke with a sharp tone, a fake enthusiasm and harsh look. You shuddered, he seemed scary, but not like he was going to hurt you. You never truly believed he would hurt you or Ciri. But there was a foreboding cold feeling of dread creeping up your spine.

"You will find I am quite patient, but there is only so much self destructive behaviour I will put up with, especially when its so avoidable. You will change your attitude right now or else." He added quickly sliding his grip from your wrist to your bicep and held you close your hip skimming his thigh. You grunted and tried to plant your feet on the ground, willing your boots to take root into the stone slabs. But he had the unfair advantage of not only being a witcher but also being twice your size. He managed to drag you closer to himself and cross the last few feet to the bench

"Who the fuck do you think you are-" you yelped as he finally stopped moving and sat down on the long firm wooden seat. He  paused for a moment opening his mouth to answer you but stopped short, clearly thinking better of it. For a second you felt victorious,  as if him shutting himself up was a battle won.

But instead he shook his head and spread hos legs wide you eyed him cautiously. He was up to something nefarious,  before you could even ponder the thought you were yelping and waving your arms about  trying to regain your balance as best as you could. But it was in vain as he tipped you over his thigh quickly snapping his legs shut around your own pinning you.

"g-Geralt what are you doing- Geralt?! NO! NO LET GO! GET OFF OF ME! GERALT!?" You screamed out as you realised just where this was headed.

"No I will not let go" he grunted and began trying to capture our hands, pulling them behind you holding them in the small of your back.

"I will let sarcasm slide, even cursing. But out right stupidity and disobedience? putting yourself in stupid situations, putting your life at risk is not acceptable!" You yelled in fury ignoring his lecture as he wrangled you still. Overcoming your thrashing and screeched curses.

"so, like any responsible adult I now have to take you to hand. I’m not loosing you over something so stupid as jealousy" he finally hissed through grit teeth maintaining his tight hold of you.

"j-jealous? I’m not fucking jealous- get off of me please Geralt stop it!"

"You are jealous! Jealous and scared and your lashing out and making stupid snap decisions because of it!"

"I am not scared- w-wait? What are you doing! Geralt let go!- no don’t ! THAT MY SKIRT STOP IT!" You squealed and flicked your feet at him. His hand had began tugging your dress up your legs making you flush. But the brute didn’t  care for your wailing. Nor did he listen, he continued speaking as he tugged the skirt from you revealing your smalls to the room, thighs cooling as the unkind chill of kaer morhen engulfed you.

"You are scared, lost frightened of loosing Ciri, of being abandoned, of being caught in the crossfire. But most of all scared of being alone. You are not alone. You will never be alone, you are family"

"No I’m not-Ah?! Fuck ger-ALT!" You yelped and screeched into the room when his hand finally descended on your upturned rump with a loud slap. You inched forward trying to escape the burning hand that stayed put for a few seconds only to be pulled back and strike you again.

"Yes you are. And to prove it I’m going to start with holding you accountable. There are consequences" he grunted out and raised his hand again this time landing a more solid spank across your bottom.

"Wha- no! Geralt no don’t ! Not that!?I’m too old!" You pleaded again twisting trying to peer up at him from your vulnerable position. You cried out  as his hand landed again in the same spot.

"Your never to old for a hiding, especially one you sorely need" he hissed striking again, landing his hard palm just hard enough to make you yelp.

“No-ah! fuck no that hurt please stop it!" You screeched kicking out as much as you could with him  holding you. But your struggle was futile against him. He was far to powerful for you to escape.

"Not until you pull yourself together" he growled peppering your backside with more sporadic slaps warming up before really letting you have it.

"wait wait iv never-no ones ever!" You argued trying to reason with him especially now that your ass really was on the line.

"That explains a lot. Now hold still, this will be over quickly" he hummed stull n9t budging as your feet kicked and scrapped the floor trying to rock your way from him by kicking off of the floor.

"Wha- no Ohah! Shit don’t !" You cried out as he found a rhythm and began landing slaps across your upturned rump with ease. It would appear this particular witcher had done this before.

You sniffled finally biting down on your lip, unable to curse at him through your pained yelps and hissing sobs. Your eyes watering while he struck you again and again. Your pride crumbling away as his palm blistered your bottom without a word spoken.

You shrieked at him your fury and pain leaving you in one loud broken sound. For some reason being turned over his knee like a child was resonating with you. Something deep and small inside wanted this. Needed to be pulled into line and be held accountable. The strangest feeling of security washed over you. It was infuriating,  the way he was holding you down striking you like you were a child- his child! He had no right! No right to touch you or treat you like his own spawn. Yet you could feel your anger ebbing away.

Your ass stung, his heavy palm still littering your sore cheeks with open palms. But he wasn’t hurting you. Well not causing harm.

It didn’t  take long before your fight was all gone and you finally hung limp over his knee. Geralt let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. He could feel the change. He'd say he had broken you, but no. He hadn’t broken you, just the stupid walls you’d built around yourself. He knew you might have finally gotten the message. And it was about damn time.

You sobbed confused, feeling guilty but safe, and sad, happy, embarrassed and calm. All of these contradictions coil in your belly. It was only when you finally gave in slumping over his lap that Geralt stopped. Not that you noticed, his hand might have stopped but your ass was throbbing and you continued to cry.

"This is for your own good. You will do as your told, stop all this teenage pride bullshit" he said calmly, moving his hand to your back rubbing slow circles on it trying to calm you. You mewled at him trying to shake his hand off, despite enjoying the way he was comforting you. Not that you'd admit that to anyone, least of all him.

"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen well. There will be no more shouting, bickering or disrespect from you. And you will accept that neither I or Ciri are going to run off and leave you" Geralt said still rubbing you back as you tried taking deep breaths, sniffling trying to calm down.

"B-but I’m not-" you tried to speak, arguing stubbornly. But Geralt was having none of it and swiftly landed another open palm to your tender bottom making you jolt yelping at him.

"You are mine. Just as Ciri is. You are both my responsibility, and I care for you both. Say it Ewa if you say it enough maybe you can get it through your stubborn pride" he added not giving you any room to argue again.

"I-I’m yours" you said the words quietly trying not to let it affect you. You didn’t  believe them, you couldn’t. Yet something settled in your chest as you uttered them, a tiny spark. Hope.

"You have a family And don’t  you forget it. You Ciri and I are family, along with the others here at kaer morhen. Its not a huge family, we're a gruff bunch but we are here for you. Both of you. We protect our own here Ewa, your one of us now" Geralt swallowed nervously eyeing you. This wasn’t his thing, he was all hmm, fuck and sarcasm.

You looked down feeling the lump form in your throat. For a moment you felt a strange longing. A family that cared, truly cared enough to chase you down and knock some sense in to you? The fact he had turned you over his knee should make you angry. But instead his punishment and heartfelt words had destroyed the walls you’d built around you. It was odd, no one had ever spanked you before, no one bothered to bring you to hand. It was oddly soothing, you felt secure.

When you didn’t  cuss him out and relaxed into him giving a tiny nod of your head Geralt was floored. He expected you to throw another fit. Not try and curl into him without being noticed. He smiled feeling a weight lift from him, he now had one less thing to worry about.

"Now come on sort yourself out, cant have you start training like that" he hummed easing you to stand up again and made a note to even out your skirts again covering you.

"T-training?" You uttered trying not to think about what just happened. You wanted to ignore the embarrassment a d carry on as if nothing had happened.

"Yes, starting today you and Ciri are training, you’ll need to know how to defend yourselves, no place better to learn" Thankfully Geralt seemed to want to ignore the embarrassing punishment and slung his arm around your shoulders dragging you into his side with a reassuring squeeze before directing you out of the room chuckling as you hissed under your breath for the first few steps.

It may have been humiliating and painful and scary but perhaps it was worth it I  the end? After all you have something you’d never had before. A real family.

[ncitygirls]

forgive - hyunjin x f reader

angst, fluff, smut, royal au, 4.1k

to die just as one graduates to motherhood is the tragic fate of countless women of your time. though there is no shame in falling victim to eve’s curse, one does feels a deserving sense of pride in their ability to look the devil in the eye and turn one’s cheek. to crawl through the forest of death and drag oneself towards the light. many are denied the privilege of survival. living is a sign from the heavens that perhaps there is a reason for such trials. that strife is a lesson in one’s journey, a meaning to life.

but to die before bearing your husband a son is a fate you would readily accept in place of the dark nothing you nearly surrendered to. the thought drifts into your mind the moment your greatest trial and grandest reward shifts in your arms, your daughter’s wails slowly rising in pitch and frequency as you smile loftily at her bundled form in your lap. she sings a song most would call unbearable. the screech so shrill, it pierces through even the most impenetrable guard. but never through you. you could continue to find peace in the deafening sound had it not been for your husband. your dear, sweet husband.

your king.

your king, whose presence thus far escaped you. that is until he asked, just a decibel louder than the wailing infant, “could you please settle her, sweet?”

“oh,” you glance at his rigid form, across your living quarters, to find his pretty scowl trained on his heir, only softening when his eyes meet the familiar orbs of his queen. “my apologies, hyunjin. is she distracting you?”

“no,” he breathes, allowing his head to fall back on the loveseat, his sculpted cheek puffs. “it’s just annoying.”

“it?” your eyes quickly return to him, only to be met by the back of his morning paper. “i do hope you are referring to the sound itself and not to your child, my love?”

“does it matter?” he sighs, realising moments too late that the room has stilled. “my dear, i did not mean to offend.’

“of course not, your highness,” ah, ‘your highness’. you call on the title in the times you wish to hurt him most. “she is but a child, of course you meant her no offense. i ask for your mercy, sire.”

“i sense hostility in you.”

“shall I call on a nurse for you, your grace?” he wonders for a second what the reason could be before you readily come to his aid. “it is most unlike you to use sense of any kind.”

“that was out of turn-”

“me? my king, you believe it is i who is out of turn?” hyunjin knows there is no answer to such a question. because yes would present grounds for annulment and no would mean he is wrong. and kings cannot be found in the wrong. “not the new father who refers to his daughter as ‘it’? of course it is not he who is speaking out of turn, not when he is a king.

“when he is a man.”

“ah, ‘men are the source of all the world’s ailments’, must we hear excerpts from your manifesto again, my love? it is only noon,” he assumes you hear only humour in his tone and decides to take it a step further. “is it in your plans to fill the house of hwang with women just to spite me?”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling softly as he watches, “is it a son you desire, hyunjin? is that what you want?” his eyes squint as he watches his love rise to place his only heir in the cot before you glide over to him, sweetness vanishing from your eyes as you succumb to your wrath. “you want a son, king hyunjin? then give me one.”

“leave us.” the servants standing by flee the room, quick to abandon a maid who halts as hyunjin blocks her path. “take the child.”

she takes a hurried step towards your child before she is stopped once more. “take my child and i will take your hand.” the poor girl is quick to abandon her king’s direct order before fleeing the scene, closing the door as she departs.

a biting silence takes the place of the bodies that once filled the chamber, thickening every corner of the room. minutes pass before hyunjin realises you have no further interest in him. “if it were not for the fact my heart beats for you, my beloved, i too would take my leave.”

“your heart? is that what beats in your chest, hyunjin? a heart?” he scoffs, unbothered by the deflection masked by your jab. “kings are meant to rule, not jest. do not humour me.”

“was your tea cup mistaken for a bedpan?”

“i almost died, jinnie!” he withers as you tremble, your eyes misting as you try to find someone resembling your beloved in the man sat across from you. “i almost lost my life bearing you the heir you prayed for, only for you to treat her with the same regard one does a child born in illegitimacy.” he wishes to deny it, and you see it too. but your eyes are alight and hyunjin swears he sees his end in them. “she is your child, hyunjin. and should she be your only, she will wear your crown with pride and rule as well as any boy ever could.”

“i know that.” your scoff stung like a strike to the cheek and winds him like a blow to the gut. “i do. y/n, i swear it to you.”

“then perhaps you should act like it.” he finally sees what fuels your rage and rests behind your eyes: disappointment. “you cannot love me and not my kin, jin. i won’t allow it.”

“my love,” he reaches for you but you repel, moving instead to the babbling baby. “you mistake my desire for a son as a lack of joy for my daughter.” pulling your hands from the sides of the cot, he dwarfs them with his own. “i love her with everything i have in me. i swear.”

“had my father received me as you did our child, i would not believe that to be the case.”

“forgive me, my love.” you’re quick to cast your gaze elsewhere, ignoring his puppy eyed plea. “i will pray the heavens take mercy on me, but i need you to first. please believe me when i say i love her. i do. she is half of the greatest woman to ever walk this kingdom, i worship her.”

“then why? why the cold shoulder? why treat her this way?” he suddenly finds himself unable to answer, opting instead to rock the baby, basking in her glow. with a soft sigh, you raise a hand to his cheek, offering him reprieve as he burrows into your palm. “what troubles you?”

“nothing, my love.” your disbelieving gaze sends his shoulders south, his whole frame sagging. “it’s just my dealings with the courts.” of course. the courts. “i spent every night bowed in ceaseless prayer. i prayed for your health, for your life, for our child. i prayed until bruises formed on my knees, my love. and still i prayed. but as i prayed for my family, they prayed only for my successor, for a boy.” though you find it impossible, he manages to lower himself further. folding himself into you, almost in two, hiding his long face from view. “once I caught wind of their talks with the lord, i condemned it. i condemned any prayer against my wishes but the court can do as they please in their solitude and i know we do not rule on fear but after her birth, for the first time in my life? i wished we did.” it was inexplicable, the difficulty you had beholding an enraged hyunjin, the skin curving around his knuckles and jaw as they tightened with every word he uttered, your heart tightening in kind. “i wanted to make heads roll, to end them for the disregard they paid my child, my family, my wife.” it starts to make sense now, his grinding teeth and red rimmed eyes. his late and sleepless nights. the nights hypnos granted him even a slither of reprieve were spent clinging to you, a cold sweat soaking the sheets, puzzling you beyond belief. it all makes sense. “the courts have filled me with doubt. they warned of foreign enemies who would hear of our heir, of our girl. that they would see her as a sign we are weak, that we are lesser.”

“but how can they speak in such a way? we are ahead of such things.”

“my love, you must see past the likes of lord kim and baron han. the rest of the men in my court are old, and stuck in old ways. our nation has not seen a queen on the throne since the likes of my widowed great, great grandmother.” his hands cup your face, bleary eyes blinking back the tears his heavy words summoned. “i love you, y/n. and i love her. all i want is for you both to be safe. but i live in constant fear that i cannot keep you safe with enemies outside our walls and evidently within.”

“hyunjin, my love,” he settles at the soft spoken call of his name, the loving address soothing his forlorn heart. “i will burn the court to the ground before they bring harm to my kin. or to you.” it is not unlike you to let your anger consume you. in fact, it is but a facet of what made him fall in love with you. what continues to bother him is the fact he was not the first to make such a bold promise. “my love?”

“fret not, my queen,” his nimble hands gather his daughter from her cot, his lips pulling in a soft grin as the child gargles, reaching up for him. “it is just, with my brains and your ferocity, i believe this hwang might be the greatest queen- no, ruler levanter has ever seen.”

“forgive me, my love,” the apology fills the space to his left, from where your temple rests on his shoulder, fingers toying with his undershirt. “but you do not suggest that this girl will be inheriting her brains from her father-”

“watch your mouth.”

“watch it for me.”

“careful,” he warns, dropping his lips to yours for a brief peck before withdrawing but an inch, “i might just give you that son you asked for.”

“careful, or i might just let you.” your rebuttal has him fanning your lips with a breathless chortle, urging you to rise to the tips of your toes and connect your lips to his once more. when you withdraw, he follows, resting his forehead on yours, smiling softly as your eyes meet. your voice is barely a whisper as you enquire, “what do we do now, my love?”

“now, i will handle the courts,” huffing, hyunjin places a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head, smiling as he does. “i am afraid you will just have to handle everything else.” the regret in his words do not match the smirk on his lips, though he confesses, “i do not envy you, my love.” placing the baby in the cot once more, he pulls you into his chest, resting his cheek at the uppermost point on your head. “but i will keep you both safe. i put my life on it-”

“sire,” you warn, leaning up to kiss his neck. “your life is no longer yours to wager.”

“is that so?” hyunjin only grins at your assured affirmation. “my queen, is there anything that is mine in this kingdom?”

“me.” even after all these years, hyunjin is undone by you. from your matter of fact utterance, a breathless admission of submission to your glowy eyed gaze, eyes shining with pure adoration. “i belong to you.”

“you do?” he sighs when you nod, the small bounce of your head forcing his own head up and down. his eyes and hands slowly trail down your arms stilling at your fingers. slipping his digits between yours, he raises them to his pouted lips, slowly pressing each one with a kiss so soft and so sweet, you nearly jump as he speaks. “and these? do these belong to me?”

“yes, sire.”

“good,” he breathes, joy flashing behind his eyes. “and what about this?” he whispers against your lips, his plump lips tangling with your own. only after playing with your tongue, sucking on the muscle and swallowing your whines does he ask, “is this smart mouth of yours mine?”

“all yours.”

he nods in agreement, fingers gliding down the side of your neck, dusting over your chemise to cup you over your stay. only to find you bare. “were you that hastened to join me for tea?”

“no,” you laugh, hitting his chest as he pulls you closer, enjoying feeling your near bare chest on his. “i breastfeed.” you love your king. for as slow as he is, he is twice as loving. you watch realisation dawn on him not once but twice, a slight pout stealing his lips, exaggerated by their natural downturn. “what is it?”

“i just,” he stops, laughing to himself. “i just realised these-” he cups your tender breasts, thumb barely dusting the sore nubs. “-they’re no longer mine.”

“hyunjin!” his laughter picks up before it stills, the sleeping princess nearly awoken by the delight of her parents. “no, they’re on loan.”

“that’s fine.” he sighs, ducking his head to kiss the center of your chest. “i’ll wait.”

“i’m proud of you.”

“thank you,” your pride does not last long, as he lowers his hands to cup your ass and pull you flush against him. through your chemise and slip, you feel him. all of him. he deftly slips his tongue between your gasping lips, filling your mouth in ways that force your panties to dampen, the fabric soaking with every roll of his hardening cock to your aching slit. “but this is mine,” he reminds you, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “do you understand?”

“y-yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes, your grace.”

“good. now, go get a nurse for the princess.” the king proclaims, emphasising his point with a firm slap to your ass as you almost sprint out of the room. as you return with the nanny, you feel your heart swell to almost double its size. you find hyunjin by your daughter’s basket, a soft lullaby floating in the air as he gathers her in his long, folded arms. you watch him pass her to the nanny, his fingers passing over her puffed up knuckle, in awe of her inherent daintiness. “sleep well, my dove.”

you fear he might have forgotten you as the two leave and he stares in quiet longing. you finally approach him as his sniffles begin. “hyunjin?”

“i have missed her.” he whines, wet eyes cast skyward, guilt staining his face. “i have been a terrible father-”

“no.” your scold has his gaze falling, his shining eyes searching your frowning face. “not terrible. never terrible. just a little distant.” you soften as he nods, understanding pouring into him as you craddle his face in your palms. “you know now.”

“yeah,” he agrees, leaning to press a wet kiss to your lips. “please forgive me, my love.”

“there’s nothing to forgive.” you hum against his pouting lips, moulding your mouth with his as you try and tear him from this spell of despair. “come sit,” you whisper, guiding him towards his original seat.

when he lowers into it and feels you lower in kind, though to the ground, he frowns deeply. “i-” he stalls as you palm him through his slack breeches, fingers gripping him through the fabric. he grinds up into your closing fist, eyes squeezing shut as you momentarily silence him. the peace is short lived as he moans, realising what you’ve done to him. “i wanted to pleasure you.”

“and you will,” you quickly assure him, smirking when his frown deepens. “once i pleasure you.”

“fine.” he concedes, crossing his arms as you unfasten his breeches. you glare at him through your lashes until he huffs, stiffly raising his hips to allow you room to lower his garments down his thighs. “is there anything else i can do for you, mrs hwang?”

“that is all.” you chortle, fanning the reddened, leaking head of his cock. the sound forces a smile on his face until your tongue glides against his glistening slit. he almost chokes when you gaze up at him suddenly, eyes full of too much love for one king to fathom. “you just relax, okay?”

he can barely make himself nod as he fills your sight with his lovesick smile. “i don’t deserve you.”

“i know.” you rise to your knees to swallow his retraction, enjoying the lurid way he melts under the touch of your lips and palm. you offer languid strokes up and down his length, thumbing at his slit as he practically dribbles down himself. “jinnie, you’re making a mess.”

“‘m sorry.” the whine isn’t worrisome, but rather his second admission of guilt. with a gentle shake of your head, you raise your unsoiled hand to his lips, smearing your mingled saliva across his chin.

“i like you messy,” you admit, watching his eyes glaze over at your confession. “you’re always so proper now. you were never like that.” you squeeze him tighter at his base as you speak, dragging up the length of his cock, forcing a mewl from his throat as he releases his bitten, spit slicked lip. “remember when you were still a prince, and i just a lady?” he nods dumbly, head rolled to the side as drool pools on the corner of his mouth. “you used to fuck me in the greenhouse as it rained on a starry night. and behind the guards’ stables. even in the old maid’s quarters-”

“tha-that’s because we couldn’t anywhere else.”

“true,” you tut, wiping his chin as he fucks up into your closed fist. “yet now the kingdom is yours, you only ever fuck me in the castle.”

“but i always fuck you well.” when you just smile his hips falter, brows knitting as you massage his tensed thigh. “say it.”

“say what?”

“that i always fuck you well.”

“you do fuck me well,” you knowingly half agree, pumping him in your tight fist before he grabs your wrist. only a few seconds pass but the small fire ignited by your defiance burns for an eternity. the warm embers blazed to a full village fire when you squeeze at his base, moving to restart your ministrations. hyunjin only scoffs, clicking his tongue with a soft shake of his head. “a king’s ego should not be so dependent on his queen-”

before you can finish, his fingers cling to the base of your neck, squeezing in a way that traps the words in your throat. he feels you swallow, his dark eyes watching how you struggle to breathe. it’s dizzying. the way he eyes you, flitting between your expanding chest and gasping mouth. he presses the back of his hand to your chin, tilting your lips toward his mouth as he leans in. “it seems my ego rests on the mocking words of my smart mouthed wife,” he whispers into your open mouth, sucking softly on your bottom lip. “so, my queen, mightn’t you humour me? tell me that which i desire to hear.”

“you-” he senses an unfitting retort on your tongue and tightens his grip, marvelling at the delicious way your eyes roll back. he only loosens when theu water, gleaming in pitiful surrender. “you always fuck me well.”

“like i will now.”

“li-like you will now.”

“good,” he grins, proud of your slow but gratifying progress. helping you stand, hyunjin gathers the hem of your chemise in his fists, hiking it up to your waist before placing the fabric in your waiting hands. he feels for your undergarments, fingers gliding along the soft skin of your belly, purposely missing the waistband of your panties. he watches your breathing change with every long second he teases you, missing your sex in obvious ways. when you whine he only tuts, watching a frown kiss your features. “it’s not nice to be kept waiting, is it?”

“no,” you mumble, jutting out a full blown pout. “please touch me, hyunjin.” you too can sense your lover’s utterances before they are ever fully realised. like now, when he smirks, knuckles dusting over your throbbing heat. “properly.”

your emphasis has him chortling, the sound delighting you in ways you cannot explain. how long had it been since you had him like this? warm and open, delighted by the trivialities of foreplay. excited by your pending coitus. it brings a sudden joy to your heart, and, to your husband at least, an inexplicable grin to your bitten lips.

“what tickles you, my love?”

“i just missed you.” you confess, not too dissimilar to his earlier realisation. “i want you happy always.”

“oh,” he breathes, finally pinching your panties and sliding them down past your ankles. “one can feel nothing but joy when you are near.”

“is that so?” you hum as he pulls you to his lap, his thumb dipping into your soaking cunt before slow dragging it along your swollen clit.

“it is so,” he affirms, offering soft pecks to the taut skin of your neck. “it’s why i married you.”

“really- oh,” words stick in your throat as he dips a lone finger in you, his thumb still circling as he presses against your walls. your lips find his in your daze, somehow still embarrassed by the awe with which he regards you. your hips roll against his cramped hand, chasing the beginnings of a tightening coil in the base of your belly. “you’re still infatuated with me?”

“always.” he removes himself without leaving your lips, swallowing your taunt as he guides you onto his awaiting cock. time stills for a moment as you adjust, brain whirring as you both realise the time that has passed since you had him like this. your throbbing walls clamped around his pulsing cock. the subtle tremor of his thighs as you sink onto him, buttocks resting in his waiting palms. he offers a gentle squeeze, one of comfort and question. “can you move?” you nod against his skin, damp forehead pressed to his as he guides your motions with gentle tilts of his wrists. his tongue slips into your mouth, readily lapping at your own as you wrap your arms around his neck. his hands rise to your hips in time, guiding you with a firmer grip, enjoying the slow rock of your hips on his aching cock. he feels you squeeze around him as he sucks on your tongue, his thighs shaking with a looming orgasm. he pulls you in closer, lifting you inches in the air before leaving your slippery lips. before you can even think to protest, hyunjin snaps up into you at a steady pace, enjoying the mewls he conjures from you.

“jinnie, i’m- i-”

“it’s okay,” he groans, on his own verge of release. “it’s okay, my love. let go.”

and you do. moments later you let go, loudly soiling his lap and favourite loveseat as he fucks into your soaking cunt. seconds later he follows you, head thrown back as he releases in you, fearful of nothing but the stained upholstery as he thanks the lord above that you are his wife.

“you owe me a new chair.” he says suddenly, still panting as you pepper soft kiss along his shoulder blade. “and new breeches.”

“it is you who is to blame, sire.” he watches with a raised brow as you rest on his knees. “you always fuck me so well, how could i help myself?”

“ah, right.” he folds when you laugh, the sound forcing his hands upward, along with the corners of his lips. “forgive me, my love.”

“i love you.” you whisper instead, settling against his chest as you both ignore the compromising position you’re in. “so much.”

“and i you,” he swears. “always.”

[taechaos]

New Idea

pairing: Step-brother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

warnings: non-con, bondage, pseudo-incest, sadism, smut, mentions of killing

synopsis: You wished to hang out with your brother Taehyung when he wasn't home, only to realize he was better off staying away.

word count: 3.2k

It was late at night. Rain flooded outside, drops trickled down your window and puddles formed on the roads as they reflected the neon lit storefront signs beautifully. The tears from the clouds splashed against the cement loudly, and you watched the empty streets in boredom. With your cheek leaning on your palm, elbow propped up on the round wooden table across your window, you miserably yearned to feel some sort of sugar rush with a deep frown on your face. Things have been mundane, repeating the same old routines as days quickly went by. You wondered what Taehyung had been up to in the time that he’d been gone. You knew he could resolve your boredom instantly had he been right beside you.

Taehyung – your step-brother who was the embodiment of adrenaline, and was most likely awake with you right now. The man never slept, always staying up at night brainstorming ideas for what to do during the day that was no doubt just as exciting as the day before. Bags adorned his eyes that somehow fit his wild persona that never needed asking for permission to do things that were illegal most of the time. It was especially daring when having strict parents, and the only reason he wasn’t locked up in a mental institution was because he was the pride of your family with excelling grades in college that he rarely ever attended. They never approved of anything he’d done, especially not the teal hair he was currently rocking. You on the other hand, looked up to him as a role model.

What you’d do to see him right now. Sometimes he tagged you along with his adventures, such as exploring abandoned buildings and getting matching tattoos on your forearms that he chose. Despite the rebellious acts he put you through, he always defended you against your parents and got away with everything with a light scolding from his smooth tongue. Admiration wouldn’t begin to describe the amount of respect you had for him, though he was rarely ever around. Unbeknownst to you however, he never failed to go a day without pecking your cheek while you were unconscious. 

He was everything you aspired to be: a carefree soul with a creative mind and a heart filled with exhilaration. The only thing he hadn’t done was probably murder. It was a shame that absence made the heart grow fonder, because throughout the time you’d known him since your early teens, he hadn’t changed one bit with his disappearances that could go on for days. 

Taehyung never changed.

Was this what they called depression? Feeling numb and hating your life for how ordinary it was? You didn’t know, but what you knew was that you really needed Taehyung right now. It was 3AM and your parents were sound asleep in the apartment while you moped over how much you missed your step-brother’s presence. Not a single moment was dull with him, while you were too much of a coward to go through with any of your desires.

And as if your prayers were answered, a pound came on the door. The loud knock instantly gave away the person behind the door; Taehyung, who never cared for how loud he was unless he was on a stealthy mission.

Your heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and the silhouette of your step-brother entered before it was slammed shut with a lock. “You’re awake?” he asked in a whisper without moving an inch when he noticed your seated form.

“Can’t sleep,” you breathed, unable to hide the joy you felt upon seeing him in your tone. He couldn’t have picked a better time to visit you.

“Why not?” he walked over to you before kneeling. There was a smile on his face that matched yours, instantly giving away he came to your room with purpose. It was expected, for he never approached you if not to tell you about one of his newer ideas. 

“Was bored.”

“So was I,” a mischievous smirk graced his face. The street lights outside illuminated his messy hair that your hand itched to ruffle. “But I found us a solution.”

Your eyes gleamed with hope, your grin never faltering. “Tell me,” you impatiently urged, your knees already bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I’ll give you a hint: we’ll both be having fun. But you need to listen to me,” he cautioned with a raised finger. You nodded frantically, willing to do whatever he needed you to do. “Okay, stand up.”

You obeyed him and only then noticed the bag slung over his shoulder once you stood before him. “Let me do all the work, yeah? You just stand still.”

“I really want to know what it is,” you whined and bounced on your feet. 

Taehyung held onto your tits that bounced with you and you quietly gasped. “Better not be acting like this with anyone other than me. Naughty,” he scolded before unzipping his small pouch. 

“I don’t go out without a bra,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Taehyung was notorious for doing and saying things without a filter, uncaring of the effect it had on others. This was simply him looking after you without any boundaries, because he never set any with you.

He pulled out a duct tape from the mystery bag. “Turn around and hold your hands behind you.” You complied without protest, the ripping of a duct tape resounding in the room as he tore it with his teeth. He taped your wrists together like cuffs before facing you again by the pull of your shoulder. 

Confusion washed over you, but not a trace of fear. “What’s this about?”

“Now go lie down,” he ignored you and nodded at your bed. You sat on the center, your sheets already rumpled from all the tossing and turning you’d done in an attempt to sleep. His figure loomed over you and your heart raced in anticipation. “Don’t move, okay?”

You silently watched him with piqued curiosity as he pushed you down. The soft mattress dipped under your weight and you didn’t move a muscle until you felt him tug at your flannel pajama pants. “Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” he ignored you again and you furrowed your brows as he undressed you. “You’re going to like it.”

Without a single clue of his intentions, you expected him to change your pants after he took them off, but definitely didn’t expect him to aim at your panties next. The second he held onto the hems, you crawled away from him and repeated more firmly, “Taehyung, what are you doing?”

He yanked you back to him by your ankles. “Don’t you trust me? You said you’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t think I want to do this,” you strained and tried to pull your knees to your chest, but he tightened his grip on your ankles.

“It’ll be fun, just sit still,” he spoke airily, his tone unbothered compared to your worried one. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Once you felt somewhat reassured, you relaxed your legs and lied back down. The discomfort swallowed you whole when he undressed your bottom half completely. The chilly air hit your bare legs and left goosebumps in its wake.

“You shouldn’t be shy about being naked with me,” he chuckled and tapped your pussy carelessly. You yelped and bent your knees again. 

“Taehyung, this isn’t right,” you stressed and clenched your thighs together. You were growing wary about this ‘idea’ and you weren’t sure whether his pupils were dilated because of the dark anymore. He could be high. “Let’s try something else, please.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed and spread your thighs apart, hovering over your loins. “You’re going to love this, just calm it.” He grabbed the duct tape again and tore off a smaller piece before placing it on your mouth, making your efforts of leaning away fruitless. Your voice was muffled behind the sticky tape as you shook your head. “Don’t make me tape your legs too,” he warned as you tried pushing him away. He sat on your knees as he began unzipping his washed denim jeans, ignoring your babbling.

“Been watching a lot of porn lately,” he began casually as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I usually find it boring, but I came across a video that I couldn’t resist reenacting. Plus you were bored too,” he defended, “it’d be mean if I spared my little sister of this fun.” 

You didn’t know whether he was joking or not, but you were ready to start crying if he was actually doing what you were thinking. You sighed in relief when he reached for his pouch for a pair of scissors. It had to be a joke then–

Taehyung began cutting your shirt from the middle, and you whimpered when your tits were on full display. Your nipples hardened as a result of the exposure, and tears immediately began streaming down your face mixed with muffled sobs.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” he exclaimed, “we’re not related by blood. It should be fine.”

When you continued crying, he said, “I’ll take off my shirt too, if it helps.” He heaved his t-shirt over his head, his firm chest hard to make out in the midnight dark. “I was thinking kissing would ease you into it, but only if you’re quiet.” Your cries grew louder instead. He sighed exasperatedly, “You can be such a crybaby sometimes.”

He started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you whimpered at the feeling. You were ticklish and though you were completely terrified, the kisses were a bit soothing. “This is me being nice to you, because oh boy, that guy in the video was a fucking monster,” he laughed while going down the valley between your breasts. A finger flicked your nipple while his other hand rubbed over your folds. “Want me to eat you out first? You’re not wet enough.”

You shook your head in refusal, so he merely shrugged and began circling your clit instead, his fingers now pinching your nipple. His mouth latched onto your other nipple and he swirled his tongue around the areola, clashing pleasure with pain. The rain drowned out your involuntary moans but Taehyung caught them anyway; it wasn’t hard to miss when your arousal began coating his hand. He released your nipple with a pop and locked eyes with you. “You’re enjoying this? Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to cry longer but... you're a little slutty, aren't you?” He slapped your pussy experimentally and smiled when you moaned loudly. “Keep this up and I might just take off the tape.”

For a moment, he wondered if this was why people enjoyed sex so much; your moans were like music to his ears and your body was making his cock throb even more. He could really get used to this, he thought as he slapped your pussy over and over, the sound echoing in the room along with your high-pitched whines.

“Shit, I need to record this,” he mumbled before reaching for his phone on his back pocket. Your protests went to deaf ears as he began recording your pussy and spanked it, the microphone picking up all your sounds of pleasure. Once it reached the one-minute mark, he threw his phone on your pillow and took out his erect length from its restraints, giving it a few pumps as the tip oozed with pre-cum. “I never thought fucking you would be this easy. Thought about it every time I touched myself.”

You went quiet at the revelation and he smirked at your raised brows. “Why are you surprised? Whenever I’m home, you come hug me with your bare tits pressed up against me. Not that I’m complaining of course,” he chuckled hotly. “Want me to kiss you now?”

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he ripped the tape off of your mouth without mercy and your eyes teared up at the pain with an ouch. He didn’t waste a second in enveloping his lips with yours as he cupped your pussy, smearing his pre-cum on your labia. He swallowed your moans as his mouth moved vigorously, tongue meeting yours as he explored your cavern. The smacking of your lips caused you to clench your hole, the sound arousing to your ears as you kissed him back.

“You going to stay quiet for me?” he murmured against your lips, his cock poking at your hole teasingly. You hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl,” he praised with a grin and lightly pecked you before properly positioning himself.

The reason why Taehyung was so eager to have sex with you wasn’t just because he was horny, but also because really wanted it to be your pussy that he fucked first, and maybe second, and third. He was a virgin who watched too much porn when he wasn’t outside, and now that you were 18, he thought it to be the perfect timing for you to lose your virginity to him like he’d imagined when he was 15. 

Due to his experience, he didn’t ease into your pussy and instead shoved his cock entirely. You screamed and he instantly put a hand over your mouth. “Too much?” he asked with a strained voice. His cock was just begging to be thrusted into you, but he couldn’t have you screaming and waking your parents. When you nodded with eyes shut in pain, he groaned to himself. He was twitching inside you, and after a few seconds, he began moving.

You were crying and bitching again, but he paid no mind to it as he pressed his hand onto your mouth while gently slamming his hips into you, his courtesy for now. You'd adjust sooner or later, but the stretch was excruciating; your walls stung and you started to bleed on him.

"Oh fuck," he giggled sadistically once he noticed the crimson fluid, "that didn't happen in the video." He gazed into your glossy eyes before quickening his pace, growing rougher. "You're crying again; what's new?"

Taehyung was laughing as he was moaning, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded and you were struggling to breathe through your nose as he fucked you relentlessly. 

“I kind of feel bad for you,” he panted with a sinister smile. “Does it still hurt?” He took your sobs as a yes. “Poor baby,” he cooed with a pout before moving his free hand to your clit. “This might help.” You were struggling with your bound hands, but you couldn’t move your legs because of how much it hurt. Your fighting was useless, and your body was growing numb except for the thumb that made it less painful.

Taehyung removed his hand from your mouth to hear your moans clearly. Whether it was from pleasure or pain, he didn’t know, but he loved it. He wanted to be the only one to see you in this state. He’d gauge out any eyes that got to see you naked and stab any ears that got to hear your pretty sounds.

But it was a little difficult to savour it when he was reaching his climax so soon; damn inexperience and the low stamina that came with. He had enough self-control to pull out of you to finish himself off with his hand. He missed the warmth and tightness of your pussy and how it kept clenching down on him quickly, but it had to come at a cost – not cumming inside you.

“You fucking monster!” you yelled hoarsely, eyes blurred with tears and face covered in tears.

“Too loud,” he sighed and forced your mouth open to shove his length inside. “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill you.” His cock was heavy on your tongue as you gagged on it every time he thrusted. It wasn’t long before he released in your mouth and you choked, swallowing his cum without a choice. Another loud moan erupted from him as his hips stuttered while gently slamming into you for the last time.

“Fuck,” he exhaled before collapsing on you with his palms holding up to not smother you completely. “Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl.”

When he raised his face from your shoulder, you spat on him. He laughed hysterically before wiping off your saliva from his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, damn.”

“You’re the fucking worst Taehyung,” your voice wavered as you insulted him. “I hope you rot in hell. I always saw you as my role model, but now I understand why everyone fucking hates you.”

“Sheesh,” he snorted, “I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I? It might hurt now, but it’ll feel a lot better when we do it again.”

“If you try-” he cut you off by going down on you, taking his clit into your mouth and immediately emitting a moan out of you. “Stop, stop, stop,” you chanted in gasps, trapping his head with your thighs and contradicting your words. He chuckled against your swollen pussy, making it feel even better and yet worse. This euphoric sensation wasn’t what you needed after being traumatized by your own step-brother, but it was what your body wanted after getting a taste of his tongue. 

He was slurping up your juices and spitting on your folds before abusing your clit again. The bastard knew how to distract you from your newfound grudge, but you weren’t going to forgive him after your orgasm. Your hips moved against him on instinct as his tongue ran up and down your labia. A knot formed in your stomach, your tears long forgotten as you became more persistent in riding him in this awkward position. He heaved your thighs over his shoulder to take full control, and with his vigorous sucking and pulling, you came undone with a spasm.

“Feels good, right?” he asked rhetorically and fell limp next to you.

“I’ve never hated someone as much as you,” you seethed while recovering from your high.

“You’re going to tell me that wasn’t fun? No way,” he stared at you in disbelief.

“You hurt me,” you sniffled and covered your face.

"I'm sorry princess," the nickname felt foreign on his tongue as he held your arm. "I'll leave forever if you want me to."

He hummed when you stayed silent with a runny nose. "I'll clean you up and go, okay?"

"No," you huffed. "You become my slave for a whole month."

"You want me to stay home with you?"

You nodded while rubbing your eyes with your fists. "You can't do that and just leave, and I hate you but I miss you."

Taehyung resisted the urge to squeeze your cheek and coo. He knew you'd regret asking him to stay, but he wouldn't say no to spending time with you 24/7.

Chuckling through his nose, he said, "I miss you too." He traced the tattoo on your forearm, a minimalistic mockingbird with an arrow slicing through the middle. He picked it because it represented you; an innocent little thing who didn't even look down at her wound, only focused on flying back to Taehyung, a hawk that waited with open arms - ready for his meal.

If you wanted him to stay, then that's what Taehyung would do. You'd fallen for his trap twice, the third wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure you enjoyed it this time.

[silmarillaure]

It's telling that fandom will go beyond its way to justify a man's actions no matter how terrible and find ways to release him from responsibility

Except most Feanor fans like myself do not justify his wrongs, we only acknowledge that a lot of shitty stuff happened to him which he did not deserve.

Feanor died an awful corrupted person, that's undeniable. But no, Feanor the child did not deserve to be called "marred" and deserved better than having a father & stepmother who condemned his mother to eternal death out of selfishness.

Finwe favoring Feanor later in life doesn't make up for the loss of Feanor's mother. He insulted Feanor's mother even after her permanent death by choosing to mispronounce her name, and Indis did the same and insulted Miriel as well.

Favoritism does not heal those deep scars that Finwe gave Feanor himself, and if Finwe wasn't capable of loving all his children the same, it's more proof that he shouldn't have had them.

I don't have energy to argue on whether female characters should be granted the same grace and benefit of the doubt as male characters and especially male blorbos.

Except you grant Feanor ZERO grace & benefit of the doubt. I've seen on your blog that you think he was a terrible unloving father who's sons only followed him out of fear.

You refuse to empathize with someone's grief over loosing their mother in a world where no one else does, you refuse to empathize with Miriel being unable to control the fact she was drained by childbirth & accused her of abandoning her husband and son, but Indis deserves sympathy?

Miriel is a woman as well, yet you hold no sympathy & understanding for her situation and are basically saying it's a good thing she died along with saying she's at fault for abandoning her family.

don't tell me it's for Míriel: she herself states she's glad that Indis' children lived and if you are defending her right to choose to live only because you think Fëanor needs a mother, then it's not really about Míriel

Miriel is a nice person who’s choosing to see the best in the circumstances. And wtf is wrong with thinking Feanor deserved an opportunity to see his mother?

Even if Miriel & Finwe were a childless couple and she somehow died, I’d still defend her right to live over Finwe’s right to have children. He made the choice to marry her, he knows how permanent elven marriage is.

Morgoth being Morgoth. He was always going to find something to work on. In the absence of sibling rivalry, he could very well have used Finwë's desire for a larger family and a spouse, perhaps turning him against Fëanor, maybe even suggesting that without Fëanor he could have had everything he wanted. Morgoth was always going to use the Finwë/Míriel problem.

You're making up what if scenarios here but if I do the same thing and say Feanor would have been a lot happier had Finwe not remarried, you would disagree.

It really sounds like Indis should live in a box so that Finwë can't see or hear her, and he shouldn't process the grief in a way that suits him, like by moving on.

You always bring up Finwe's "grief" (he couldn't even respect Miriel enough to say her name right, It's doubtful he grieved her much) and how Indis's feeling are so valid, but again and again, you invalidate Feanor's grief and demonize him for being unhappy with the situation.

Also I'm not even going to touch the claim that the Valar "stole" the Silmaril - not beyond pointing out that "whether your property rights are still valid after multiple mass murders, stealing somebody else's priceless semi-sacred property and destroying it"

So do you think Feanor deserved to have his work stolen in the first place? If you have something stolen from you and law enforcement chooses to do nothing about it, are you saying you should "get over it".

And if Feanor (the creator) & his sons have no right to the silmarills, who does? Why does Luthien deserve something she never made, why does Thingol, or Dior, or Elwing, or Earendil?

Finwë was still the King of Noldor. He had all the means he needed to make trouble and unrest if he wanted. Would he just have contented himself with staying alone, potentially until the end of time? Have we any right to judge him?

Finwe shouldn't have to content himself with being alone but Feanor has to content himself with loosing the chance to meet his mother ever?

And we have no right to judge Finwe but it's completely ok to judge Feanor for grieving his mother & being unable to get over loosing her?

Why is it that you refuse to have any sympathy for Feanor's losses when you sympathize with literally everyone else?

He was not a Kinslayer when he lost his mother and was being called "marred", he was some kid going though the unthinkable but you gloss over his grief every single time.

(I know you said you didn't want to continue adding onto this post but I would love a reply. Although I will never see things they way you do, I do want to understand your perspective more on things I've questioned you about.)

I don’t understand people who demonize Feanor pre 1st Kinslaying because genuinely what was he supposed to do?

How is he wrong for despising Indis who was creepily obsessed with his father even before his mother died and took her first chance to throw herself at his grieving father given the opportunity?

How is he wrong for not loving his half siblings who are a permanent reminder of his father & the Valar betraying his mother & leaving her to die?

How is he in the wrong for not giving up the Silmarills?

How is he wrong for wanting revenge for his murdered father when the actual villains are the Valar who doomed him, his kin, & his people for…. seeking justice for their king?

The Valar had the power to help this severely traumatized, depressed, & mentally ill person and guide him to be less destructive.

The chose not to. Every action between Feanor & the Valar are them actively making his life worse and then Manwe has the audacity to cry over him as if he couldn’t have prevented this tragedy.

While I think Olwe & the Teleri should have been willing to teach the Noldor to build ships at least, the 1st Kinslaying is obviously still unjustified since Feanor did have a way to middle earth without killing (the Helcaraxe), but before that everyone else is being a bigger asshole than Feanor and pushing him to his inevitable breaking point.

[drxwsyni]

doubts and desires︱albedo x f!reader

summary: letting go of the past is hard, but losing what you have now would be harder. leaving albedo is neither something you can do, or something you really want, it’s simply taken you a while to understand that. word count: 2k warnings: implied dubcon, stockholm syndrome, past kidnapping

Even with how Albedo had bundled you up in a hat, scarf, gloves, and coat―it still failed to ward off the chill that seemingly sucked the warmth right from your body. Yet you said nothing about it, the unwanted attention it would draw from him inevitable if you made your discomfort known. And, you were almost certain he would drag you back to the cabin if he knew how the cold was treating you.

You didn’t enjoy the biting temperatures, but you didn’t want leave. Not when it’s been so long since you descended the mountain, that you barely even remember the feeling of snowfall against your skin.

The whole situation he’s placed you in is really quite foreign―confusing.

In how he’s letting you accompany him in his research, not far from his―your home. A safe distance, so to speak. Or that’s what he said, at least.

You realized that the way he spoke of this outing, how it’d just be the two of you, and that you wouldn’t venture very far; they were words of comfort. Not said to reassure himself that things would go smoothly, but to calm the look of trepidation in your eyes from the mere suggestion of going outside.

Now, seeing Albedo’s nonchalant demeanour while he studies the petrification of a fallen tree, it puts your mind at ease. Sure, if you look closely you’ll be able to see the way his eyes flicker to your form every few seconds or so, making sure you were right where he left you, but generally the alchemist is calm.

It makes you calm, for a moment it feels like you’re able to settle down and appreciate the intricate beauty of the snow swept mountain you stand upon. Best to do so now, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he would lead you home, sheltered safely away from the danger of the mountain’s climate.

“Oh―I didn’t know you were to be researching today, Albedo sir.”

With your back turned to the newly appeared stranger behind you, the cold that had seeped into your bones no longer posed as the only thing holding you in place―it was also now an icy fear.

You watched unmoving from your spot as Albedo gave pause, a hint of contemplation flashing across his face before standing.

“Timaeus. I thought you were studying back in the city.”

The man, who you had yet to properly address, responded with a somewhat nervous laugh.

“Yes, well I was, but it led me to do my own research out in the field…”

Always in a strangely graceful manner, Albedo dusted off his pants and straightened his jacket. A look of unashamed disinterest painted his expression as Timaeus rambled on about his findings.

Truly, you don’t recall Albedo ever showing such emotions with you―a detail not necessarily heartwarming, but still reassuring in an indescribable way.

Perhaps it was due to you being so sure that he’d rid himself of you when you no longer proved useful. Which made the swirling of affection and enamour in his eyes when he gazed upon you settle your nerves, even in just the slightest.

“...which I unfortunately have yet to procure. But―ah, I’ve gotten ahead of myself again. My apologies, how is your research coming along. And...who might you be?”  

If Albedo recognized the look of severe anxiety flashing across your face, he paid no mind. Instead giving you a small, somewhat warm smile. As if to say, “Go ahead.”

The few seconds that passed were done in silence, you desperately trying to read Albedo’s face for ulterior motives, and the man behind you shuffling awkwardly in place while he waited for a response.

By some miracle, your body moved on autopilot, turning around to finally acknowledge the cause of your newfound distress. Only, you couldn’t even look him in the face.

Your mouth was dry, mind foggy and unable to think of a response that was anywhere near being coherent.

“...I―uh…”

“This is my new assistant. Please do forgive her, she’s quite shy.”

A shaky breath escaped your rigid body at the sound of Albedo’s voice, and the feeling of his hand resting gently upon the small of your back.

The blatant lie that only you and him recognized echoed inside your head.

Timaeus had no clue who you were, or what you meant to Albedo. But if he did know, you wondered what he would do.

“...Ah, it’s strange we’ve never met before.”

You could tell without looking that Timaeus was studying your form. With the way his tone shifted to something a little more unsettled, a pit grew in your stomach knowing how he had picked up on your questionable nervousness.

The hand resting on your back felt a little more heavy.

Albedo showed no signs of botherment, “That’s likely because she’s not from here.”

For some ungodly reason, the less experienced alchemist took this as an opportunity. “Oh, if that’s the case then we should show her around. Sucrose could use someone like herself to―”

“Actually, we were just leaving. I’m afraid I’ve kept her out in the cold too long, and descending the mountain any further is quite a reckless task in this weather―” His head turned to look at you, no longer addressing his student, “―right?”

If Timaeus was told of what his teacher had done to you, would he help? Even if he looks up to Albedo, even if everyone does, surely they would step in.

Only, the issue remained that first you’d have to prove to them you were in danger.

...And really, you weren’t. Not anymore.

The tender bruises around your wrists and ankles had healed long ago. Your health was in near perfect condition, what with how Albedo saw to it that you never did anything to put it at risk. A single and quick glance would show that you were so pristinely taken care of, complexion shining now that you no longer spent nights sleepless from fear.

What were you to even say?

Moreso, it remained true that you didn’t quite want to say anything.

Timaeus wouldn’t believe your truth, and Albedo would likely spin the scenario so that your words weren’t reliable anyways.

It dawned on you that Albedo knew this fact well, why else would he bring you with him if he wouldn’t still be entirely in control of the situation?

A simple movement, his hand drifted to your hip and gripped it firmly, urging.

Your voice, barely a whisper met his ears.

“...Of course…”

That was all he needed, sending an impatient, yet still neutral glance towards Timaeus, the smallest hint of self-satisfaction lingering in it.

His student took the hint.

_____

“I have to say, bringing you with me was quite...productive.”

After dinner, Albedo has you keep him company in his study. You, occupied with a book in a chair across from his desk, while he goes over his findings from the day’s outing.

“Research wise, I was able to study you in a foreign situation.” He continued, conversation one-sided, “The results were to my liking…”

Although construed in his ever sophisticated manner, his words told you that you did something right. He was proud, and that notion made the swell of a strange warmth in your heart grow.

The alchemist’s gaze remained downcasted at the papers strewn about in front of him while he spoke. “...I suppose you should be rewarded for such good behaviour.”

Your eyes flitted up, the story on your lap abandoned completely.

Albedo has never spoken of such a thing, not once entertaining the idea of rewards when he saw no reason to ever extend such gratitude. Even after all this time.

He must be especially pleased, you thought.

Perhaps, enough to grant you back even a small semblance of independence...that would most certainly be your wish.

You’d long grown used to his suffocating personality, the intense interest he paid you often resulting in little to no alone time. Albedo made sure you stayed in eyeshot, and in those inevitable times he needed to leave, he made them quick, and you were to be safely tucked away in the bedroom, door locked from the outside. There wasn’t a single detail he missed, no stone left unturned when trying to improve your security.

Unfortunately for you, it left little autonomy.

Just the smallest taste of self-reliance would be fine. You’d love to cook a nice meal, like the ones you used to make. Or perhaps to pick your own outfit one morning, something more your style than the things he put together for you. Any break from his constant guidance, no matter what shape or form, you’d gladly take―

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then, I’ll meet you upstairs soon.”

Albedo neglected to look up as he spoke, and so he missed how the glimmer of anticipation in your eyes faded away. The way your shoulders dropped slightly, the look of disappointment flashing across your features in understanding of his words.

What he had planned, it was a reward...of sorts.

An excuse, as far as you saw it.

Albedo was known for testing the limits of living beings after all, and in certain ways, such studies extended to how he treats you. It’s a win win for him―he thinks it’s a reward, since he knows he can make you feel good, and doing so just shows him all those little things he can’t learn through idle observation. What makes you squirm or shy away with innocent embarrassment―information just as important as everything else he knows about you.

It doesn’t dissuade Albedo when he finally glances up to see what his offer has done, though the sight does make him feel as though he’s deceived you.

Still, he remains unapologetic. “While you gave me some good insight on how far you’ve...adjusted, I still can’t completely trust you. This merely turned out to be a good opportunity for satisfying your other needs―nothing more.”

Flipping open a nearby textbook, Albedo conveys wordlessly, a difficult habit of his, that the conversation has ended.

You, however, have yet to heed his words. Still seated, the once flickering of hope subsiding with each passing second. Call it grief, but you were sincerely expecting a different outcome. Though, knowing Albedo, and his constant need to grow more knowledgeable, you should’ve seen this coming.

“...I’d rather not have to force your compliance tonight. So, please―” He gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand, focus trained and brows barely knitted while he skims over his readings on the desk.

Honestly speaking, you once thought Albedo was a deeply confusing man. So too was the life he’d meticulously prepared, and swiftly forced you into. Yet, looking back, things may have been more simple than you once perceived.

Your only real job is to exist and comply. And you both know you’re not going anywhere, not going to say no. Especially now, given how effortless it feels to fall into routine, going through the motions of his request and carrying yourself upstairs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s too late for you, what feels like an eternity spent at Albedo’s side having just about rendered your fighting spirit useless. It’s been long since replaced with what you’re coming to know as a certain fondness. You want to see the compassion in his eyes that’s sparked by your willing compliance.

It was a single, tangible goal. Not complex and unobtainable like those tasks of your past life. Attempts at obtaining those desires are futile, when today's events proved you genuinely no longer want them anymore.

It’s much easier to make Albedo proud. You don’t realize that you do it everyday, and that he’s just poor at conveying his own emotions...

Drawing yourself a bath, you wash away past doubts, settling with what your life has turned into.

Distantly, you hear Albedo make his way up the stairs and towards your bedroom. You like knowing what’s to come, which is always something you’ll have with him. You can’t say the same if you leave, and so you finally resolve that you never will.

[sirveltic]

Ask for Solarius: What do you think about all members of your family? (Angie's Council I mean)

His Majesty leans back in his chair, brushing the feather of the quill against the cheek of his helmet.

His family... his family. Angels who have watched him grow despite their doubts on the matter.

"I've always known Malthael to be withdrawn." He starts, the heel of his boot grinding in the floor idly. "He did not form deep connections with the Council, less so with me. Alas, I viewed him as a deity when I first met him." Solrius chuckles dryly, tiredly rubbing his helmeted forehead. His memory fails him most days and the headaches he gets from trying to think about past events are bothersome at best.

"I pity him. I do. I cannot imagine the angst and suffering he must have gone through as his Aspect fell." But he does have an idea of how it must have felt. He knows the many ways corruption can spread. His wings twitch. "However Malthael had to be punished for his betrayal of the Heavens. I would have delivered it personally, had I the chance."

Solrius stops grinding his heel. Suddenly, playing with the quill is much more interesting.

"If you're looking for positives, I'm afraid you won't find many." He tells you. His voice is monotone. There is a hint of sadness in the way his wings dim their light. "Itherael can barely look me in the eye. They blame themselves for that happened to my sister and I, even if I've forgiven them." He pauses, watching the individual parts of the feather shine and glimmer in the low light of his office.

"I think they're brave." He murmurs. "Brave and foolish for thinking they could have changed the outcome."

I wish they could teach me something new, like they used to do.

But such thought it quickly pushed. The Archangel of Love continues to fidget with the feather. The ink on the tip has dried, and he twirls it on the tip of his finger.

"Auriel has been more of a mother to me than my true mother." He admits and for a brief moment, he expects his father to barge in and shout at him for daring to say such things. When nothing happens, he looks down at you. "She is there when I need her the most."

When the pain gets too much, or when his thoughts grow too tormented for him to handle alone. When he finds himself trapped in his own fear and sorrow, she is always there. Even if he never called for her. Solrius stares down at the feather and sets it down on his desk.

"I admire her. She... is the only one I seem to get along with, no matter the situation. She visits my castle from time to time. Just to talk. Her Aspect is the hardest to bear of all, but she does it with a grace I can only wish for."

"... And then there's Tyrael. I never held this... anger for him before. We were close, back when I was younger. He taught me to find my voice and not to let myself be pushed around." He scoffs, his mood sour. "I find him stupid. Imbecilic- moronic- whatever word that fits. He abandoned the Heavens to pursue 'justice' elsewhere and in doing so, he has left the Host with little sense of direction. It befalls onto Auriel and I to settle disputes. His followers had no idea where to go, so they scattered under what Aspects remain." Solrius lists, his wings twitching with agitation.

He never did take loss lightly. He tries so hard to keep everything and everyone together.

"He never did tell us why he did it."

At least, not in the words they wanted to hear.

"But the coward made his choice. After I contacted him in regards to the Black Soulstone, I stopped talking to him."

"Finally, my father and I no longer see eye to eye. He was the first angel I met besides my mother. We were fine, until a decision of mine went wrong." He waves the thought away. The headache is already returning and his patience is growing thin.

"Imperius has always been stubborn and apoplectic. We argue every day, on almost every topic." He finishes the thought, and his shoulders slouch. The fur mantle feels heavy. The burden of guilt is still strong, even after centuries.

"I feel sorry for him. When Malthael left, he was the only one who acted and took up the role as Heaven's leader. He wasn't taught politics to that high of a level. My father is a warrior first and foremost. I'm confident to say he has no idea what he's doing. But his pride won't let him take any advice and we clash. Over and over and over again.

I don't know what to do or say to make the burden on his shoulders lighter."

The Archangel straightens in his seat and his crippled wing settles back in its holder. The quill is picked back up and His Highness waves a dismissal hand at you.

"Now go. I have work to do and I've stalled enough."