#the suffering may be eternal but so is the love they have for each other. amen
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teknikolor-walters · 1 year ago
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This has a cut on it because it's REALLY self indulgent and I'm embarrassed<3 also it's kinda long. But whatever cowboy wives be upon ye
"Fuck-! God, Bug, what the hell?"
Bug didn't say anything. Everything was happening too fast. Cassie was covered in blood and so were their hands (the hands holding the calculator) and their face was bloody and it hurt. Everything smelled like blood.
"Jesus Christ, I think you broke my nose. What's wrong with you? I've housed you for three years now, and this is how you repay me? A broken nose? Fuck you."
"I'm- I'm sorry- I'm sorry, Cassie, I didn't mean to- My- my face hurts and you charged at me- I panicked-"
"I don't CARE about your sob story, Bug. I'm not letting you leave me like this. And for what? People that don't even love you? Don't be ridiculous."
"Cassie, please-"
"Please what? Let you abandon me here? Let you waltz off to your partners without a care in the world as I tend to a broken fucking nose?"
"I don't- I- I'll come back, Cassie, I'll come back for you. Okay?"
"Bullshit."
Bug knew Cassie was right. He also knew that he couldn't stay here and his face hurt in the same way that it did when Ty would punish him.
"I love you Cassie. I really do."
"I love you too, Bug, that's why you need to stay-"
The time travel hurt more than it usually did.
---
"Hey, Fox, C'mere." Jessie kissed her wife quickly on the cheek. "Ah'm sure it's gon' be ok. Ah'm sure wherever our Bug is, they're doin' alright. They're real resilient, y'know. It's gon' be okay. Ah love you."
The two of them had just gotten back from Walters Base, asking if they knew where Scarab had disappeared to. They didn't.
B0UNTY sighed. "Ah love you too, Capybara. 'M jus' a bit worried."
In truth, Jessie was also worried. Scarab had been gone for two days now. It had never known him to just disappear. And with how badly Cicada had been doing, and how poorly B0UNTY had been handling Scarab's disappearance- Jessie felt like it was watching H1VE crumble around it.
Yee couldn't let that happen. H1VE was one of the few things keeping haw from missing haw's own time period. It was her home. So Jessie tried her best to throw on a smile and make sure everything was okay.
"How 'bout we throw on a movie an' relax? Ah think snugglin' in mah Fox's arms t'night is jus' what ah need."
B0UNTY smiled and nodded. Jessie tried to ignore the way he held onto her as if he was scared he was going to lose her too.
They had just started the movie- a shitty western, something to zone out to -when there was the unmistakable feeling of time travel. Nothing changed in the room, but it could feel it. It sat up and looked over.
There Scarab, her wife, her Bug, stood, in the middle of the living room, shaking like a leaf and holding a calculator. They didn't have their cowboy hat on. There were two fresh cuts on their left cheek and the side of their neck. He was crying. Jessie nearly started crying too.
"Beetle?" Yee heard B0UNTY ask from behind haw.
Jessie ran forward, crushing Scarab in one of haw's infamous bear hugs. She felt Scarab tense up in her arms, then relax.
"Capy... Bara? Jessie?" He asked hesitantly, leaning into the hug. The southern accent was gone entirely. He sounded so much like Cicada without it, but Jessie knew instantly that she was it's Beetle.
"Bug! Oh, Lovebug, we missed ya so much, ah love ya, so much." Jessie continued to whisper sweet nothings into her hair as she cried harder.
B0UNTY ran over too, and the three of them stood there for awhile, holding on to one another.
"'m sorry," whimpered Scarab. "'m so- so fuckin' sorry."
"Fer what?" asked B0UNTY.
"Ya didn't do anythin' wrong." Jessie added. "Ah promise."
"No, no, no, no, you don't understand." Scarab was hyperventilating now, and the panic was clear in their voice. "Cas- Cassie's gonna tell Ty, it's all my fault, he said he'd tell Ty about H1VE if I left and I ran anyway, I'm sorry-"
B0UNTY cut haw off. "Hey, Beetle, look at me. It's okay. We ain't mad. Ty tries doin' anythin', an' ah'll kill'im, alright? We've got each other now. He cain't do anythin' to us. We're cowboys. Who the hell told'ja that, anyway? I'll kill 'im too."
It was obvious that he was trying to keep the anger out of his voice. Nonetheless, Scarab's breathing slowed. Jessie slipped it's cowboy hat off and put it on their head. They smiled.
"How 'bout we go an' get that cut 'f yers cleaned up, alrighty?" asked Jessie. "Then we can ask questions 'bout where've ya been."
After they were all cleaned up, relaxed, and fed, they laid together on their shared bed. Scarab nuzzled himself right in between Jessie and B0UNTY, laying his head right over her heart. Yee ran a hand through her hair.
Scarab made a noise.
"You doin' ok, Cuddlebug?"
"'m jus' glad'ja ain't floatin' in the pacific ocean. Ah missed y'all."
Jessie laughed and kissed her on the head. "We missed ya too. But yer here now. Get some sleep, mkay? Ah love you."
"Love you too."
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arscorpii · 4 months ago
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the way utena held onto wakaba and anthy's hands, trying her best to not let go (even though utena was barely holding onto anthy's hand, i'm sure she never wished to let anthy slip away from her grasp). both shots were lit with soft lighting ⟶ to highlight the importance of the person utena was holding onto and their bonds to utena.
the fact that she reached out to them with her left hand, the hand on which she wore her rose crest ring (the ring being clearly visible in both shots) ⟶ utena believed that she could only save wakaba and anthy by being a prince/playing the role of a prince.
utena caught wakaba's right hand with her left hand; wakaba wasn't holding back. meanwhile, anthy reached out to utena's left hand with her left hand as well. i think the difference in how each pair held hands may lie within the ideals between the pairs in their respective circumstances. with regard to wakaba, she harboured lots of pent-up emotions and thoughts about how unfairly the (ohtori) world treated the people it regarded as "special" and "ordinary," such as utena and herself. wakaba was clouded with feelings of inferiority and wanted to be special, to put it simply. utena didn't understand/wasn't aware of these dichotomous mechanisms/systems at play, at this point at least. these conflicting ideals, as in, awareness versus ignorance, were represented in the way they held hands; the hero/chosen one with her firm grasp on the motionless hand of the underdog/forgettable one.
with regard to anthy, the moment utena cracked open her coffin was the first time the both of them saw each other as they truly were. utena believed in a world beyond eternal pain and suffering anthy had to endure and wanted to share that view with her, wanted anthy to see and experience such a world, to save her from this needless perdition for good. eventually, anthy took the chance on the possibility, given how unyielding utena was in trying to reach her despite being stabbed by anthy herself; anthy hesitantly reached out to utena. both utena and anthy wanted to believe in a world where suffering is transient when they reached out to one another through the coffin opening, and not an eternally all-consuming pain as their fates in ohtori. they shared similar hopes in that moment.
utena reached out to both wakaba and anthy with kindness and love:
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in the duel with wakaba, she never drew out the sword of dios or fought her. utena de-escalated the duel carefully by taking hold of wakaba's sword (the sword pulled out of saionji) and cutting off the black rose. despite not understanding the sequence of events that had them facing each other off in the dueling arena, wakaba was one of utena's closest friends and utena would save her. it's a little interesting to note that the audience (and utena, too i believe) didn't get a glimpse of wakaba's face during utena's speech as above. in addition, the focus on their interlocked hands when utena mentioned about not understanding the situation and saving wakaba is also interesting (even though the interlocked hands were due to them struggling against each other). it's possible what utena said at that moment may have reached her heart even while being under the control of the black rose. perhaps the speech may have made wakaba realise that she was indeed special. this "specialness" was emphasised by utena not letting wakaba fall into the outline of one of the bodies like the other black rose duelists; because she mattered to utena. "to not be chosen is to die" but in a way, she was chosen by utena here beyond the presented choice between her or anthy. utena chose wakaba and anthy.
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in episode 39, akio used the sword pulled out of utena to break through the rose gate. utena was injured and incapacitated by anthy's stab, while anthy was relentlessly impaled with millions of swords embodying humanity's hatred. akio's futile attempts eventually broke the sword and he gave up on the pursuit. so long as he had anthy, he could try again, as in, try again to gain the power to "revolutionise the world" instead of freeing his little sister. utena tried opening the rose gate with her bare hands; dragging her injured body there, clinging onto the thorny vines of the roses on the gate, pushing through the large stone doors. she only wanted to stop the swords from hurting anthy, to help her. utena's love and care for anthy finally unlocked the rose gate into anthy's coffin. utena steadfastly held out her hand to anthy despite anthy's protests. utena's efforts moved anthy to tears, and she reached out to her. in episode 38, utena chose anthy over akio, and all the way back to episode 11, utena chose anthy over the power to revolutionise the world. utena had always chosen anthy against all odds and choices.
the aftermath:
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wakaba wasn't holding back possibly due to being under the control of the black rose while anthy's hand eventually slipped away from utena's hold.
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nevertheless, utena's efforts matter, very much so, because wakaba will always be on utena's side no matter what happens and anthy will find utena no matter where she is.
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suntoru · 11 months ago
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❝ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ❞
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─ ✰ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: scaramouche thinks you’re an awfully clumsy human being. you’re lucky he loves you just as much as you like to see him suffer.
─ ✰ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, kissing, slight blood (you get hurt), 1.4k words
─ ✰ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this is very half baked ill write more genshin I SWEARRRR
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"stupid," scaramouche mumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
if you didn't know any better you'd think he was degrading you, but his actions betray his words. though his tone may sound brash and condescending, you've grown accustomed to his prickly demeanor. there's a subtle shift in his voice, a hint of concern mingling with a sense of protectiveness. he squats down right next to where you're clutching your bloody knee.
pulling you snug against his chest, his touch is surprisingly gentle as he carefully inspects the scrape you received from tripping over a rock. despite his initial dismissal, there's a sincerity in his actions that speaks volumes. it's as if beneath his layers of harshness and sarcasm, there lies a genuine desire to ensure your well-being, hidden behind a facade of indifference.
he sighs, tenderly blowing air on the scrape in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain. "does it hurt?" he mumbles, his tone attempting to regain some of his abrasive personality. but when it comes to you, he finds it impossible to maintain his usual harshness. you nod softly, your eyes glazed over in a blurry haze, and he can't help but feel a strange sensation in his chest. or rather, the place where he would feel a sensation if he had a heart.
he's at a loss for how to make it feel better, his mildly annoyed faltering in the face of your discomfort. his nose crinkles. if it were him in this situation, he would have brushed it off easily, perhaps even stomped on the flowers in the surrounding area for good measure. a scrape like the one on your knee would be insignificant to him.
but mortals are so fragile, so easily breakable. you cry over small, uncontrollable events, like someone passing away or falling on your knee. you're bad for his health, he swears silently to himself. every time you trip or stumble or shed a tear, he finds himself inexplicably worrying about you. it's a strange feeling, one he's not accustomed to— caring for the emotions of someone other than himself. he doesn't like feeling vulnerable, yet in your presence, vulnerability seems inevitable.
but it's not all mortals he feels this way for. if it were one of his subordinates, he would have had them punished severely for shedding tears over such a small thing. however, with you, he finds it's different. he knows, all too well, the nature of human life, witnessing countless souls fade away in the blink of an eye; your lifespan is but a fleeting moment compared to his eternity. perhaps that's why he worries so much. scolding you for not taking proper care of yourself, angrily patching you up when you get hurt— these actions have become common occurrences.
yet, it doesn't stop the sinking feeling he gets every time it happens. it's as if with each scrape, each tear, he's reminded of the fragility of your existence. and in that reminder, he feels an unfamiliar pang of concern, a whisper of something resembling... affection. how strange.
he finds his fingers instinctively wiping away a stray tear rolling down your cheek, a frown marring his usually composed features. retrieving a spare bandaid, patterned with cute bunnies that you had insisted on buying, he takes extra caution when tending to your wound. somehow, you always manage to find trouble, a fact that both frustrates and perplexes him.
you're such a baby, always getting yourself into situations that require his attention. and yet, for some reason, he doesn't exactly mind it. after all, he'd rather you seek his comfort over a dimwit like a certain ginger harbinger.
you nuzzle into his touch, letting out soft sniffles as you pout sadly, wincing at the pain. he tries to be as gentle as possible, tenderly placing the bandaid over the scrape with the utmost care. and when you're not looking, he shoots a glare at the stupid rock that caused you harm, silently cursing its existence.
"hurts..." you mumble, tugging on his sleeve with pleading eyes. "will you kiss it better?" you ask, your voice tinged with vulnerability. he hesitates, his mind immediately conjuring up logical reasons why such an action would be ineffective and potentially harmful. but the look on your face melts his resolve, and with a resigned sigh, he leans in and tenderly presses a kiss on top of your so-called 'boo boo'. it's a small gesture, but he can't deny the warmth that spreads through him at the sight of your grateful smile.
in one motion, he tilts his oversized hat downwards, completely blocking his face, leaving you blinking softly and cocking your head in confusion. what could he possibly be doing?
"...scara?" you question, attempting to shift to where he seems to be looking. but as soon as you move, he shifts his gaze elsewhere, and you mimic his movements, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
"would you stop that?" he scowls finally, ceasing his movements and refusing to meet your gaze. his cheeks are tinged with a pretty pink hue, gradually deepening into a full-blown red, a clear sign of his embarrassment. you can't help but stare at him innocently before bursting into laughter, playfully pinching his cheek as you tease him about his flushed face.
"aww, scara, you flustered?" you taunt, but he swats away your hand, attempting to evade your playful teasing. "i'm not—" he begins, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words, but the embarrassment on his face speaks volumes. with a bratty huff, he removes his beloved hat from his head and places it firmly onto yours, obstructing your vision. his hand remains firmly placed on your head to ensure you don't pull it off.
"hey!!!" you protest, squirming in an attempt to lift the hat, but his grip remains steadfast. he's adamant on not letting you see his face; perhaps you've gone a bit too far now. is he pouting at you? gently, you intertwine your delicate fingers with the hand that's pressing down the hat, silently coaxing him to relent. eventually, he does, allowing you to lift the hat and meet his gaze, although he still stubbornly avoids making direct eye contact, staring off into the distance with a petulant expression.
he resembles a toddler at this moment, cheeks puffed in annoyance, yet his hand remains firmly clasped against yours. despite his outward irritation, you don't miss the way his thumb gently moves back and forth, caressing your fingers.
it's endearing, really, and you can't help but smile at his adorable display. surely, he wouldn't mind too much if you continued to tease him, would he? with that mischievous thought in mind, you press a tender kiss to his cheek, lips as soft as custard pressed sweetly against his pale porcelain skin. nuzzling into his face softly, he predictably flinches back, his embarrassment turning a deeper shade of red.
"hah? what was that for?" he hisses, but you can see the subtle fluster dancing in his eyes, betraying his composed facade. suddenly, he feels trapped in a dizzying spiral of butterflies in his stomach, unable to think clearly as every single thought in his head revolves around you. "hm?" you giggle mischievously, playing innocent.
"i'm just... kissing it better."
bonus!!
a day later, scaramouche stealthily makes his way back to the spot where you had tripped and hurt yourself. squatting down, he inspects the object responsible for your fall with a disdainful glare. it's just a stupid, ugly grey rock. annoyingly mundane.
"you'll never be a precious gem like you wish you were," he snarls, his voice dripping with contempt as he channels his elemental skills against it, slamming it against various surfaces with relentless force.
"you're boring. get out of my sight." with each strike, he vents his frustration, punishing the rock for its audacity to cause you harm. he continues to torment the poor rock, his determination unwavering until it's reduced to mere shambles, pebbles scattered haphazardly across the ground. only then does he allow himself a satisfied huff, a smirk of triumph gracing his lips as he surveys his handiwork. with a sense of accomplishment, he strides proudly away, eager to return home to you.
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© SUNTORU 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 8 months ago
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Can I request a smutty fic for Aemond, please? The base idea I had is that he's been at war for a while and finally reunites with his wife, so it's quite passionate. I leave the finer details to your expertise ♡
Sacrifices with Intimacy
PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!fem!Reader
WORDS: 1,805.
WARNINGS: p in v sexual intercourse, female oral receiving, praise kink, breeding kink, swearing.
A/N - haven't written for Aemond in a long while, so forgive me if this is trash! sorry about the long wait, Ez. I hope you genuinely enjoy this! all this new content for Aem/Ewan is stirring some deep feelings! thanks for being so patient and kind.
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The toils of this war had felt like an eternity, and undeniably, you had missed your beloved husband dearly...
Aemond Targaryen, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower: your betrothed and in eager time, your doting husband, was called at arms to fight the war in the name and honour of his elder brother, the King now, Aegon II. Aemond expressed no hesitation to act in defence, even if this meant sacrificing sacred time with you. As much as his reasons were to defend the honour and dignity of his family, he fought in battle with intent of smothering all grounds of harm towards you by all means. He thoroughly intended to vanquish any potential enemy or ounce of threat, kin alike, if it meant that you live a life free from suffering.
A sacrifice needed to fulfil this meant his prolonged absence in your life. An absence felt too deeply indeed, like an open gash, exposed to the natural chill of the air. Until the familiar, thunderous roars and bellowing gush of winds roared across the daylight, roars and wings that could only belong to one great dragon...Vhagar.
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"My beloved—"
"Aem!"
An embrace long overdue, like no other. Against your body, Aemond's hold felt constricting yet oddly comforting, pressing you as deep against his slim physique as possible.
"You've returned sooner than I'd anticipated—"
"Do you not wish me to be here, my dearest? Has my early return not pleased you so?" He huskily murmurs, his voice deep: warming your heart so, as it had been so long since you'd heard the familiar tone. A deep chuckle echoing to your ears, as you nuzzle against his neck, longingly inhaling his musky scent.
"Well now that you're here, I may never let you go again—," You faintly whisper, enough only for Aemond's ears, as the dragon-keepers urgently tend to the monstrous Vhagar.
"Have your duties in Harrenhall come to a close? Need you take your place now here in King's Landing?"
"For the time being, my beloved. For the foreseeable future, I am to remain here... Rightfully beside you."
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Despite all fruitless attempts of his Grandsire, the Hand, and the Dowager Queen, Alicent Hightower, urging Aemond to attend council meetings to arrange further battle plans and to discuss progress: Aemond remained solidly adamant in his stance.
"I've sacrificed enough of my time fighting this war in the name of this family. An evening to spare with my wife, I should warrant at the very least."
He was to spend the entirety of the evening, every passing hour, minute and seconds with you, soaking each other up to make amends for such deficiencies.
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Your bare bodies entwined against each other, feeling the heat radiating from his muscular body.
"You've grown leaner, my love... Are they not feeding their troops?"
His calloused hands take their sweet, precious time lightly tracing over the curves of your naked body: scoring goosebumps to course over your soft skin where he had hovered. His touch had become alien to you now, and yet you craved for him to never let go.
"They feed us, although not well enough... And not for the delicacies that I desire," his lowly voice made your eager ears prick up, excited to hear his every word, to listen to him speak mindlessly for hours on end. A growl etched as his good eye lingered over your calm, sensual figure.
Slowly, you kneel yourself up over towards him, straddling his chest: his rough hands gripping the outer flesh of your tender thighs, squeezing and tapping at the meat, nudging for you to move up closer towards him. A sly smirk stricken across his handsome face, a face now masked with lingering yet subtle scratches and marks, proof of his succession in battles. Your finger lightly tracing over their lightning-like marks, gently until reaching the infamous sapphire eye.
"Do you still find me handsome as the day we wed?"
"Always, Aem—”
"Do you still want your husband to eat that pretty cunt of yours out? Been craving for me, silly princess, even if you deny it... I can feel you throbbing against me now."
Now knelt, hovering ever so closely to his face, you slowly sink yourself down, feeling your cheeks now well rested comfortably against his broad shoulders. His ravenous tongue spared no second plunging itself into your walls, as his lips curled and lapped at your moist entrance.
"Hmm—" A deep, penetrating sound vibrating from his lips against yours, you felt your dead weight plunge deeper, the walls of your silky cunt feeling tight and tickly against his guzzling mouth. You felt your body bobbing subtly up and down, in sync with his heaving chest, as his breaths grew deeper and denser.
"My husband, the saviour of the Seven Kingdoms... A-And I have h-him a-at my beck and call, b-beneath me."
Breathless and exhilarated, your wetness stimulating beneath you, sensing just how drenched your inner thighs feel. Intertwining your fingers with Aemond's, releasing his firm grip from your thighs, guiding his large hands up over your hips and waist, planting his palms against each breast.
"Miss these, baby? Cause they've missed you... M-Maybe if you f-fill me up, these can get f-fuller, huh? D-Does that s-sound good?"
Earning another deep, muffled "hmm", his calloused, large hands kneading at your breasts, squeezing at the tender flesh in the cup of his palm. A teasing thumb, flicking at your perky nipple, earning a rapid moan. Sensually feeling you up, his precise movements and gestures receptive to your body: as though he had never left, not a day behind. Your mindless body now succumbed to his every move, a stirring feeling in the pit of your stomach desperate for more, it seemed as though Aemond could read your very mind subconsciously.
Nudging you to move down, released from your trance, his breathing heavy yet gradually began to compose itself. A slick, clear film saturated his reddened lips and mouth, although wasting no precious he lapped that up too, savouring your taste.
"Ask and you shall receive, my spoilt, little princess... Lay down."
Despite Aemond having done most of the work, drowning in his prized possession, the sensitive spot between your legs felt achingly weak though desperate to have more of its fill.
"Now let's see if my angel can still handle this cock, huh? You cannot even begin to fathom, ugh—"
Towering build over you, as he adjusted his position over you, you felt meek and feeble against him, yet wanted nothing more than for him to devour you whole.
"Just how fucking much, I've been waiting for this precise moment... To feel your walls swallow my cock, huh? Fill you so full and good of my seed."
His long cock had grown stiff since the moment you'd removed the last single piece of cloth, torn from your body. Feeling his tense, sprung member against every crevice and naked surface of your body was painstakingly feverish: like some taboo toy you had been separated from, eager to play with once again. Its veiny, blush tip tauntingly traced lightly at your entrance, etching deeper and deeper with each breathless word spoken, and every moan whimpered, until his mass was completely plunged into your velvety vanity.
"Seven Hells— Forgotten just how tight you were, baby. I can feel you clenching, missed me that terribly, hmm? Poor thing... Must've been going crazy without me."
"Y-Yes, A-Aem— Y-You have no idea."
Aemond was more often precise and cautious when it came to sex: his movements and pace often calculated and deliberate although a different side completely showed itself now. You had to give him praise. It had been far too long, especially for newlyweds since you had both been last intimate. He was desperate for you, just as much as you had. He had grown impatient now, yearning to be with you, to be inside of you: keen to take his please with you in this very moment, for who knows when he could be next called upon and needed, only to disappear once again.
"That's my good, good girl... Always doing so well for me, having waited so long for me. Deserving of all my special treatment—"
His harsh thrusts were formidable enough to sway you as you lay still. Aemond gripped tightly at your wrists, keeping you and himself steady. His breathing once again resumed a faster, more grunted pace, as his thrusts grew careless. Only having the one goal to fuck you senselessly full of him.
"Mayhaps I'll fuck a babe into you, princess... Does that sound good? Leave a part of me inside of you to grow and to hold."
"Ughh— Yes, Aemond. Fuck me full. F-Fuck me till I s-swell, b-baby."
"Your commands, princess," A breathless grunt uttered after each word bespoken. His once straightened, neat loose strands, now a mottled, sweaty mess of platinum locked, strangling against your fingers, as you keenly relished in pulling and tugging at.
Whenever he was close enough, your lips suckled onto his fair, pale skin of his chest and neck, leaving remnant, red marks shaped vaguely of your plump lips. The fury of the pain from between your inner thighs was undeniable, for it had been so long since you laid with your husband. Your walls at first foreign to the excruciating stretch, as his long, rigid cock plummeted and burrowed its way into your cervix.
The long-awaited high was surreal, Aemond taking his pleasure in shooting his warm, fresh load deep into you, as you felt your unison wetness coating him. The mess seeping through the gaps. He remained nestled inside until he felt sated that you had taken his seed.
Embraced in each other's loving arms, the beauty in the intimacy with Aemond was that it never ceased with the sex. He often took pride and initiative in taking care of you even after, an old habit that seemed he did not forget so easily...
"I'll have the maid prepare a warm bath my dearest, in the meantime you stay in bed."
Hastily wiping the sweat off, dressing himself once more, only managing to don his trousers, he seated himself down beside you again.
"You mustn't feel haste to care for me, Aem. You were the one that went to war... You must rest now."
His longer fingers reached out, soothingly brushing aside the loose strands of hair, away from your beaming face. Instinctively, a warm smile radiating from his face, as he seized your presence.
"I shall rest when you are safe. It is my duty as your husband to protect you, and as your lover, to love you. Those vows I spoke many moons ago, I have not yet forgotten, nor will I. Everything I do, I do for us... I love you."
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general taglist - @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1
Aemond taglist - @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog
credit for divider - @/pommecita
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siderealcity · 5 months ago
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More Dawntrail narrative thoughts, this time about the Golden City. Spoilers below.
There are several layers to the Golden City as a plot device in Dawntrail, and I think they're interesting enough to just unpack them all and look at them.
The first time we hear the term, it's from Hades in Endwalker:
"Tell me, have you been to the ruins beneath the waters of the Bounty? Or the treasure islands beyond the frozen waters of Blindfrost, in Othard's north? The fabled golden cities of the New World? The sacred sites of the forgotten people of the south sea isles?"
It's telling that he groups that with the sacred sites of the south sea isles. The plot later tells us that they are explicitly connected to one another, but why does it call them "citiies," plural? Where's the other one, Hades?
(Also, we haven't yet been to the treasure islands in the north, but every one of those locations in the quote above has to do with cross-rift travel. Every. One. So, that may be something we see again later.)
But apart from their lore and plot significance (and potential foreshadowing), the Golden City is, from the first time we hear of it, a lure. Bait, dangled before an explorer, enticing them to go onward. It is, for lack of a better word, a promise of things to come. In the specific case in Endwalker, it's a promise that your story isn't over yet, there's still more to come. Even though you are, at that moment, standing in front of the amassed dead of countless worlds. Death is not the end, it's the beginning of new life.
The second time we hear the term, it's from Wuk Lamat. Who is, again, using it to entice us to join her. We don't know at that point that her actual title is, in fact, Promise. And that is significant.
It is, likewise, the bait for Krile's involvement in the story. The thing she knew her grandfather had been asked to study, the secret he'd kept out of the records of the Students, the promise of a connection. To the past, to someone she loved who is now gone.
But then there's the Rite of Succession. And it changes the meaning of the plot device entirely.
The Rite is structured to follow the Tulliyolal saga--the journey Gulool Ja Ja undertook, over the course of who knows how many years, to unify the peoples of Tural into a single nation. A journey which notably has nothing to do with the Golden City. To the Turali, it's a fairy tale. It is so detached from the story of Gulool Ja Ja that Koana immediately has to ask if the city being the final goal means his father actually has some proof it exists.
The Rite itself, as Gulool Ja Ja later admits to us, is meant to be instructional for his children. They are not meant to simply find and cross the finish line, they're supposed to be learning how to be the rulers of Tural.
As we complete feats in the rite, we are awarded stories of the Golden City by each of the races in Yok Tural. And they all follow a significant pattern: The Golden City was the literal dream of the Yok Huy. The conquerers of every single people in southern Tural. The stories we are given are the stories shared by colonized people of their oppressors.
The conquest of Yok Tural is mentioned repeatedly. Every group we meet was displaced and enslaved by the giants during their empire, and the ultimate goal of that empire was to find the Golden City--a paradise of eternal life without pain or suffering. It is at this point that the Golden City becomes a warning. It is the promise of self-destruction. Searching for it ultimately toppled the Yok Huy empire and changed the giants forever. It displaced and disrupted numerous cultures and started centuries of war.
It is, ultimately, the reason why Gulool Ja Ja ever had to play the role of peacemaker and unifier in the first place. The divide-and-conquer tactics employed by the Yok Huy created every problem he set out to solve.
Why did he choose to make it the final goal of the Rite of Succession? A place he famously did not find before becoming Dawnservant? Was it, perhaps, as a lesson to his children, his Promises? Especially his son Zoraal Ja who had dreams of empire?
But interestingly, the Golden City was also set forth as the specific goal for Erenville to find by his mother. Cahciua wasn't present in the flashbacks to Galuf and Gulool Ja Ja and Kettenram viewing the gate, but we know that she met them afterward, and had Erenville with her. Was she with them the first time they'd found the gate? I have to think she was. The only people who seem to have known for sure about it, among Gulool Ja Ja's circle of friends and allies, were the explorers. The ones who would have been interested in searching for it purely for the joy of discovery.
I think it's safe to say that for Cahciua, at least at the time that she gives her son his quest, the Golden City is the Almost Impossible Dream. One that can, in fact, be found, but crucially, not alone. The Yok Huy, who searched for it for generations, and crushed everyone around them trying to get inside, had it in their possession all along. But they never even saw the gate. It took Gulool Ja Ja, who had friends to help him, who actually discovered the way in. It is the promise of discovery through love and fellowship, for her only son who was withdrawn and antisocial.
And then we actually find it.
It is not an accident that the way to reach the Golden City is through a cenotaph of lost hope. We literally pass through waters littered with the bodies of children who were never born--promises never fulfilled--to get to its gate.
And it's eating the Yok Huy ruin. The electrope spreads out from the gate like an infection, over-writing the Yok Huy stonework, erasing their culture.
And it's still... oddly beautiful? But in the way a poisonous mushroom is beautiful.
And it's closed. We don't go through it at this point, though we walk right up to the seal on the doorway. Because we're alive.
We're told by Erenville that many people have sought the Golden City, never to return. And of course they didn't.
Because this is the gateway to death.
Zoraal Ja is the first person we actually see go through it. The False Promise. Just to reinforce that this is, in fact, Zoraal Ja's role, Sareel Ja leads him to the gate and hands him the key with a speech that is wholly constructed of the same false platitudes about Zoraal Ja's magical birthright that have driven Zoraal Ja to be this self-destructive and miserable in the first place. And we can see how much the speech upsets Zoraal Ja, who just lost the contest to both his siblings. He knows every word of his inherent greatness and destiny is a lie. Sareel Ja hands him the key, and he grips it like it might be a bludgeon without even looking at it. And the second time Sareel Ja makes a "Resilient Son" speech, Zoraal Ja literally stabs him in the back.
Having skipped all the lessons and warnings about the danger of pursuing death and destruction, Zoraal Ja walks through its front door.
And I don't think it's accidental that the dome appears in Xak Tural, even though the gate itself is located in Yak T'el, far to the south. Xak Tural is the land that defeated the Yok Huy advance without a single battle. The unconquerable land. This is the part of Tulliyolal that Gulool Ja Ja didn't have to fix because it was never broken in the first place. They very notably do not live in the segregated societies the people of the south do, because nobody imposed that on them. The towns we see are a mix of races living together, and probably served as the inspiration for Gulool Ja Ja to build Tulliyolal in the first place, differing people pursuing communal and sometimes conflicting interests together. These are the people Zoraal Ja has been rambling about nonsensically, "teaching the value of peace by the misery of war." The ones who don't need Tulliyolal, but merely want to be part of it.
He can make his mark here because his father never did.
When the dome appears over Yyasulani, we, the players, know it's Zoraal Ja's passage through the gate that caused it, but the characters don't learn this until after he's brutally slaughtered people. We players see the sequence of events as: Zoraal Ja, the Promise of Death, walks into the land of death and carries it out with him. But the characters are instead following the trail of death back to the land of the dead. We don't enter Alexandria through the Golden City. Not at first. We enter it through a swathe of destruction and desolation and a storm that never ends. That's our first view of it. The promise of ruin. We do not see the paradise that led the Yok Huy to their doom until after we know that Sphene, like the Yok Huy, is willing to lay waste to the lives around her to have her Golden City.
And then we have the vision.
I don't think it's an accident that the only people who have ever seen anything come out of the gate to the Golden City are the Warrior of Light, Gulool Ja Ja, Kettenram, Galuf, and indirectly Cahciua. All characters who inherently understand that life comes from death and the balance between them is vital. And it's symbolically significant that it's a child who is delivered from the land of the dead. Her parents don't come with her. The dead don't get to return, we get new life instead.
And then we go there. And it looks like Amaurot.
We call it Living Memory, but the resemblance to Amaurot, and the knowledge of what's actually here means that we immediately understand the lie. The Golden City, the cloud, the twelfth level of Everkeep, all of it has always been a false promise. Zoraal Ja, the False Promise, walked into the land of False Promises and became its king.
And Sphene, the Queen of False Promises, has always had the impossible task of keeping the dead alive.
As we make our way through Living Memory, it's notable that what we actually do is remove the beautiful, golden veneer from the land of the dead. The city is still there when we're done with it. We walk back outside through its gate. We do not have the power to remove death any more than we could destroy despair. But we take the lie out of it, we free the stolen life force to become life again. It's now just dead. No more promises of paradise or ruin to fulfill.
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seat-safety-switch · 1 year ago
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You've probably not heard of the Stockholm Divorce. It's a new thing, only innovated in the last couple years. Conventional court-based divorces are messy, expensive affairs, where both parties often attempt to cause the maximum amount of damage to each other. Things don't have to be this way, and the next generation of divorce attorneys has found a better method.
Initiating the Stockholm Divorce is simple, and it should be obvious once it's been explained. Ninety-five percent of marriages start to suffer serious problems after a trip to Ikea. The reason why is simple. Assembling cheap, particle-board furniture with your spouse is bound to drive a wedge into any slight schism or disagreement you may have with them. Many successful couples simply just don't do it together, breeding resentment when it turns out that the "handy" dude you married just operates a Dodge Ram and doesn't actually own a screwdriver.
Where the genius of this divorce comes is that it starts one step earlier, well before the Ikea assembly causes a cascade of emotional chaos. Ikea's stores are notoriously maze-like, so what you can do is take your partner to a corner of the store, tell them you're going to go grab something and will be "right back," then just walk out and get in the car. You'll be back to singles life immediately, and your formerly-significant other will be stuck wandering the store for all eternity, wondering if you did in fact leave them behind or just are also looking for them at the same time, maybe in rugs or lighting or something. Don't worry, they won't starve. There's a restaurant.
Is it cruel? Somewhat, but like in many other cases, the cruelty is offset by novelty. Already, Ikeas across this great nation are filling up with divorced folks, which means it's a good place to go to meet new folks. And it's been fantastic for the stockholders: a new study shows that for every 15 minutes someone is forced to wander the store, wondering if they will ever see the face of their loved ones again, they buy approximately $17 in goods. This new mechanism has been so profitable, in fact, that the corporate bigwigs have decided that all the stores will now be open 24 hours a day, so as to encourage more frenzied, anxiety-laden purchasing as the customers gradually come to terms with the end of their relationship.
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absolutebl · 3 months ago
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This Week in BL - Lots of lovely kisses & an unwarranted upset in the standings
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Oct 2024 Week 2
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 2 of 16 - Yes yes J&J should be first but I am weak in the face of, well, frankly this man's face:
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Pond = greatest piner in a dog’s age. The yearning in that boy’s eyes is obscene, it’s like the most explicit sex that only he can see and we’re just voyeurs.
Thus I continue to adore this stupid show and everything it stands for. No notes. May the fluff continue eternal.
Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 5 of 12 - Everyone is so skilled in this show, but War is truly glorious. Considering the pacing, I think we are probably in for some long periods of darkness, suffering, and pain soon. I’m not mad about that prospect, it’s earned and foreshadowed, I just thought I’d lay it out there.
Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 - More boys from GMMTV with good communication. Who knew? Min has SUCH a white knight complex. NO SINGING. Good demanding kiss, though. Well, Ohm can handle anything. 
Meanwhile, this really is a bodyguard romance under another name. And I kinda wanna rewatch Never Let Me Go as a result.
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Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 4 of 15 - Earn remains best boy and my favorite character. Phun is v jelly, as he should be. AND I like Ohm & N'Mik better in this version. I still prefer the original leads, but I’m enjoying this enough. 
I had no idea how much I missed Gunsmile! It’s so nice to see him on my screen again.
Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 12 fin - I hate Diew’s mom. Hate her. So much. She may be my least favorite mom ever in BL. That’s saying a lot. No I don’t think she was redeemed. 
Conclusion
Adapted from the novel Godzilla Next Door by Jiwinil about an introvert who lives mostly in his room, until a loud annoying extrovert moves in next door. This was one of my top picks for 2024 and I’m delighted to say it satisfied expectations. A charmingly serene story of opposites attract, that featured good communication, patience, and genuine affection used to build a solid relationship.(I’m particularly delighted that our musician is a drummer and I don’t have to listen to him sing.) Yes it’s a tad slow but it’s very earnest and leans into the kind of sweetness that Thai BL does best. Doesn’t hurt that this starred an actor (Big) that many of us have been hoping would get a lead for years. I was pleased and comforted. This is not a kind of BL that suits everybody, but it suited me admirably. 8/10 
Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - Ozone and the Ice Prince (name still unknown) did their little dance. What an earnest and romantic confession from our Icy man. I literally said “no no no just kiss, no foreheads.” And it was a great crying kiss, my favorite. Honestly, that amount of emotion hadn’t been earned by this pair, but I don’t mind. I could watch a whole show just about them. Also woah! Major nekid on YT?
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Thailand......
Risking demonetization for arse…...
I guess we’ve all been there. 
Where was I?
I’m happy with this episode since it was mostly my side couple. But the distribution of main couple and side couple and the focus of each episode is wildly erratic with this show. It’s very odd. (And let's be clear we ordered errotic not erratic.)
Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Jade and Chin have lived over a thousand lifetimes. In each one they somehow manage to fall in love with each other. (This pair, TopMick was piloted in a My Universe ep, that was one of the only ones I liked.) Soulmate premise is a mix of Color Rush and La Pluie. Frankly, this isn’t as good as either, but it’s enjoyable in a slow cheerful way. Especially if you like this particular set of tropes. It’s quietly lovely and I like the leads. Sunshine is very very sunshine and our tsundere is a grumpy mysterious nerd. Trigger for domestic abuse. It looks like each episode is gonna be a completely different meet cute with the same pairing. It’s more linked vignettes than any overarching story. So if you don’t like this pair, you won’t like this series.
Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 9 of 10 - More sports day. (Everybody’s doing sports days right now.) Random sides kissing. Where did the glasses person come from? Was he introduced and I forgot about it? Oh that’s the evil cousin! Okay… anygay. Sides randomly flip-flop who they like and I don’t know what the fuck is going on. This show. I swear. Ooo caught kissing. And… killed? What a mind fuck of a soap opera. Honestly, I’m fine if he’s dead, I don’t care at this point I just feel jerked around. 
For some reason no eng sub for me for the first half. So I watched with Spanish subs (which is about as good as my Thai, only for different words). What a wild experience.
Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh dear. I just can’t imagine ever rooting for this couple. Which means… Why am I watching this? 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 1-2 of 7 - Oh I love it. Casual flirty westernized-style boss. Reserved reluctant cutie (yes we’ve seen the actor before). Is it disgusting workplace harassment? Oh most certainly. Do I enjoy it anyway? Yep, I’m warped. No defense, but at least it’s something from Korea. 
Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 3 of ? - I like the lead being bullied and pushed to his limit thus turning into a psychopath. It’s gonna be a fun ride if it really goes Devil Judge just teens and actually gay. I wonder if it has the strength of its convictions? 
Our Golden Times (Hong Kong YT) 5 fin? - I guess that is the reunion? What an odd little piece. I’m not entirely sure what I feel about it except that this feels more BL than anything Hong Kong has given us so far (which isn't much). The subs are truly terrible. Since I speak absolutely zero Cantonese I can’t really fix them in my brain. I thought this was the final ep but then a teaser for ep 6 dropped so I we have at least one more. 
First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - It was a nice, if entirely unearned reunion. And the leads do kiss beautifully. Trust Taiwan. I am so glad that Orca is back! There was even a little language play flip-flopping just for me. Very cute. Also GREAT kissing. How long have we been waiting for Thailand and Taiwan to kiss? 
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Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 1-2 of 12 - Silkwood’s 2nd Thai/Korean colab. This has been in production since 2022 which is a LONG time in the BL world (worrying). But I like the concept: friends of 10 years who’ve been hiding feelings for each other enter the same university. Plus MURDER. Stars Yoon Jun Won (The Man BLK) and Thai actor Save Saisawat (Ai Long Nhai). I begin to think every The Man BLK member will eventually lead out a BL at this point.
It’s enjoyable in a weird way. Grumpy (hottie with a crush) + sunshine (captain oblivious). I gotta say, since this is the second relationship dual lingo style in our BL rn that it’s ALWAYS weird if the other half doesn't occasionally code switch languages, especially for specific words. In other words, the Korean dude is supposed to at least understand Thai, occasionally he’s should use a Thai world to get a point across. And the Thai dude is there to STUDY KOREAN, he should be slipping in and out of Korean regularly. Bah. 
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It's airing but...
Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 5 of 10 eps - I never managed to get hold of ep 5. Frankly, it’s going to Netflix (I don’t subscribe) so I might not finish this out of sheer laziness. 
The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.
Gangster and His Boyfriend (Korea ????) 8 eps? - was supposed to air 10/10 Kim Dong Bin (famous trainee & idol reality competitor, yeah that happens) stars as a fallen idol who unexpectedly becomes entangled in a gangster family. Discovers that his friend’s father is responsible for the murder of his entire family years ago. I don't know much about this one, neither does anyone else and I'm not sure where I got that release date so……
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Still Coming Oct 2024:
10/17 Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) 8 eps - High school student Do Hoe lives with his violent and brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym in a rural area. One day, cheerful Ju Young arrives, he dreams of going to college for Taekwondo. Joy begins to fill Do Hoe's dark life. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite ten years later.
10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea ????) 8 eps - Okay, this is both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. I'm giving both a pass but here's your synopsis.
Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.
10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga & Viki) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Addicted Heroin
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Incidentally he didn’t ask to “be with Ter” he asked if he could flirt/court him. jeeb doesn’t really have a direct translation, but it isn’t “be with.” 
Fourever You
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.
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p0orbaby · 7 months ago
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Eden or Armageddon
summary: because we can’t keep tearing each other apart
warnings: (inexplicit) breakup sex
a/n: im sorry okay!
word count: 705
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Room 317.
The gates of hell. The stairway to heaven. The break of dawn and the clap of thunder.
Your hands are trembling, from rage or excitement you don't know. The why does not seem to matter anymore. But you are here, standing in the corridor of some expensive hotel ready to strip yourself bare for a stranger.
A stranger you hate to love and love to hate.
You scan the keycard and are greeted with a beep and a click and a sharp intake of breath. Everything is quiet, apart from the rain outside and the beating of your heart and the faint shuffle from behind the wood.
Alexia is pacing. You can tell.
Finally you exhale and push the door open. The first thing you notice is how big the room is. A waste of money for just one night, no, you will not be sleeping here. A waste of money for what may only add up to an hour. But it’s her money not yours, and she always did like fucking you up against floor to ceiling windows.
The second thing you notice is Alexia’s state of undress. Sports bra, training shorts, socks. Perhaps she has not long come from using the hotel gym. Perhaps she thinks you will fall to your knees at the mere sight of her body. She is beautiful, yes. But beauty fades.
She stops pacing and her eyes meet yours. You fell in love with her eyes first. Then her hands. You fell in love with her as a whole when she looked you in the eyes as she fingered you in the back of her car.
She’d won a trophy that night.
She stops in her tracks when you drop your bag to the floor.
As if by habit you are drawn to her. A magnet pulling you in the direction of A marks the spot. You hate that your body craves something that gives you so much pain. She stands her ground as you get reeled in one final time.
You promise.
You close the distance in a heartbeat, your lips crashing together in a desperate, bruising kiss. It isn’t gentle. Teeth clash, tongues tangle, and hands roam with a ferocity that matches the storm outside.
Clothes are torn away with a frantic urgency, fabric ripping, buttons popping. There is no tenderness in your movements, only a primal need to feel, to consume each other one last time. You push her onto the bed, your hands gripping her wrists, pinning her down as you devour her mouth with yours.
Her nails rake down your back, leaving marks that will sting for days, a reminder of this final, violent act of love. Your bodies collide, a raw, elemental dance of need and anger. Each thrust is a battle of pleasure and pain, every movement a tribute to the intensity of what you shared.
The room is filled with the sounds of your lovemaking—the slap of skin against skin, the guttural moans, the ragged breaths. There is no softness, no whispered words of love, only the brutal, unfiltered expression of your passion and your suffering.
As you reach the peak together, your bodies tense, shuddering with the force of your release. You collapse onto the bed, limbs tangled, hearts pounding in a disordered rhythm. The silence that follows is deafening, the only sound the rain outside, a steady backdrop to your heartbreak.
You lay there for what felt like an eternity, clinging to each other as if you could hold on to the remnants of your love. But eventually, reality seeps in. You have to leave, to walk away from this love that has consumed you both for too long.
You disentangle yourself, getting dressed in the heavy silence, Alexia’s eyes following your every move. You reach the door, pausing for a moment, your hand on the handle. You look back at her one last time, your heart breaking all over again.
Without a word, you step out into the hallway, the door closing behind you with a final, resounding click. The rain continues to pour as you walk into the cold, wet night, each step feeling like a piece of your soul was being left behind.
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himasgod · 3 months ago
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ANGST! Scaramouche x Reader
(0.8k words :p)
Where you met, after having been running away from each other for so long.
The gentle breeze of Sumeru caresses your face, but the air, despite its warmth, fails to dispel the emptiness you feel in your chest. You have been traveling for weeks, trying to forget. Trying to escape. Although, deep down, you know that you cannot escape something that lives inside you.
In front of you, a familiar figure stands against the horizon. His wide, extravagant hat, his carefree, haughty walk, everything about him speaks of arrogance, of an ironclad confidence that nothing could break. But you know better.
It is he, the Wanderer. Or Scaramouche, as you used to call him in those days full of betrayals and shadows. Now, nameless, homeless, it seems that he has always been on the run, just like you.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, louder than you feel. Your voice trembles, betraying you.
He doesn’t bother to look at you at first, just keeps walking, his footsteps echoing in the dust of the road. Finally, his gaze falls on you, as cold as the blizzards of Snezhnaya. “Did you expect me to run into your arms or something? Ridiculous.”
You try to contain the trembling in your hands. You know him well enough to know that beneath that mask of indifference, there are overflowing emotions. Pain. Anger. Despair. Just like you.
“You’ve always run away,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. But something in your voice makes him pause, his eyes narrowing as he examines you.
“And you? What have you done but run after me, chasing the shadows of what you think I am?” His words cut like sharp blades, each one aimed to wound with surgical precision. But, instead of flinching, you take a step forward.
“You’ve been haunted by your own ghosts, too, Scaramouche. You can pretend you don’t care, that you don’t feel anymore, but…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t go on. He watches you, a sardonic smile curling his lips.
“Feeling is a weakness, don’t you understand? I’m a puppet. A being without a heart, without a soul. None of this matters.” But even as he says it, you notice how his fists clench, the small signs of an anger he hasn’t learned to master. An anger directed as much at you as at himself.
“If none of this matters, why are you still here? Why didn’t you just go into oblivion, like you so wanted to?” The silence that follows your words is overwhelming. You see the internal struggle in his eyes, the memories that torment him, the decisions that led him to this point.
Finally, Scaramouche takes a step towards you, his face closer to yours than it has been in a long time. “Because, in the end, even a puppet can hate those who made it feel, those who betrayed it… even those who tried to understand it.”
His words are cruel, but behind that cruelty you recognize the cry of someone who has suffered more than he would ever admit. The Wanderer, the being who gave up everything so he wouldn’t have to deal with the weight of pain, is still unable to break free from the chains of the past.
“I never wanted you to be hurt like that,” you whisper. You’re not sure if he hears you, but you say it anyway. He remains silent for a few eternal seconds, his gaze fixed on you.
“It doesn’t matter what you wanted. In the end, everyone betrays. It’s the nature of humans.”
You move even closer, searching his gaze for any trace of the person you once knew, the puppet who had learned to feel, to trust, before everything fell apart. “But you’re not like the others. You are not just a puppet, Scaramouche. You have lived, you have loved… and you have suffered.”
His laugh is bitter, almost heartbreaking. “Loved… Do you think that makes me anything more than a broken toy? Love has no place in a life like mine. It never did.”
But then you see it, the small chink in his armor, the vulnerability he has tried to bury for so long. And you realize something: he may be broken, but so are you. And, perhaps, in that shared brokenness, there is a spark of understanding, of connection.
“That may be so,” you say, your voice shaking. “But that doesn’t mean we have to keep running away.”
He looks at you, surprised by your words. For a moment, something in his expression changes, a shadow of doubt passes over his face. But, as always, he quickly composes himself, taking a step back, his countenance cold again.
“There is nothing to run away from anymore,” he replies coldly. “Because for me, the whole world has ceased to matter.”
And with those words, he turns his back once more, slowly walking away, while you stay there, in the same place, watching as the distance between you grows ever greater.
Perhaps he will never be able to free himself from his chains. Perhaps, in his endless journey, he is doomed to get lost again and again. But, even so, you can't help but call out to him one last time, with a small hope lit in your chest.
“Scaramouche.”
He doesn't stop, but in the whisper of the wind, you swear you heard a single word:
“Goodbye.”
Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3
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kalki-tarot · 1 year ago
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Channeled love letter from your soulmate 💌
Pick a pile <3
1 - 2 - 3
4 - 5 - 6
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from left to right — Instinctively select the picture that feels right to you, whether based on your thoughts or the desires of your inner self. Choose the one that resonates with you, keeping in mind that this reading is meant to be general in nature and may not resonate with everyone.
Disclaimer — The images I used to select a pile were sourced from Pinterest, I hope the reading will resonate with you. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from my readings. I'm just a beginner and these readings are just for fun.
⌗ Check masterlist for more ! 🧿✨️
Pile 1
Hi baby! 👋 how are you? Tell me I'm listening to you. I can listen to you for hours, i just love your voice ya know!
I want to make you my princess 👸💓 No, you are my QUEEN!!
l'd leave this world for you my darling! I'd buy you any item you want. I love your eyes, i get lost in them. 🥺 I wanna look into your eyes forever!
Ahh, i can't resist being near you. Don't ever leave my side. It hurts when we are apart, i hate it even when we are just away for a few hours :(
I miss you sm! Time moves so fast with you around me! I get lost in you that I'm not aware of time passing by. We are getting older day by day, look how far we've come in this journey of love!
Everything moves so fast, it scares me! Time changes but me and you never. We have the same love for eachother. Aren't you proud of us?
With you, I just smile. I'm not aware of my sufferings when I'm with you baby.
I wanna go on dates with you, just like we used to before. I hate it when we are apart even it's just for a moment. Love me forever, be my forever please. Love you baby 💓
Please leave feedback in comments! Sending Lots of love <3
Pile 2
Wait ! Did I tell you how beautiful you are !? Just like a ball of sunshine. I get so mushy just from admiring your cuteness. You make me blush.
In a world full of negativity, cheating partners, situationships, hook ups etc. Aren't we lucky to have eachother for eternity as each other's loving a loyal partners?
We should be grateful as not everyone receives true love in their lives amidst these fake people.
Like would be so meaningless without love right? When you are with me everything is good for me, even the bad things.
I want to go on a cruise with you. It's my dream.
You are my love, you are in my prayers. I'm so passionate for you. Don't let these obstacles get in our way, don't be shy with me. You can say that you love me.
I get nervous around you too. Or we can just look in each other's eyes?
Be my life partner. I want to spend the rest of my life with you please. Not just life, i want you for an eternity.
If I could ask god for one wish, I'd ask for you in every lifetime. Everything is okay when you are around.
I can tell you my pains and sorrows and I can listen to yours. I get strength from your smiling, happy face. With you, earth is like heaven for me.
Isn't it beautiful that we are two bodies one soul? Even if I die, I'll come back to you, I promise.
Please leave feedback in comments ! Sending Lots of love ❤️
Pile 3
I'm in love with you. Time stops when I look at you. I can admire you for hours. I'm at peace with you.
You can call me a fool, but you are just like a fairy and I'm just a human, mesmerized by your enchanting beauty.
You give me peace, you voice, your soft hair, your eyes, everything about you makes me feel calm. You are a part of my soul.
I want to make you mine. I will spend all my nights in all the ups and downs of your life. I will be there in the bad times too, darling.
I'd write songs and poems about you. When you smile, it feels like heaven.
I really love you, trust me.
I really love you trust me.
I really love you, trust me (Idk they're just repeating this. They wanna make you trust in their purity of love)
Yes you can call me a fool whatever you want. But I'm madly in love with you.
Days and nights pass. I fear your absence. Life stops in your absence.
I'll do anything you want, I'll give you a bouquet of roses. Trust me, I love you.
You'll get addicted to me. (not in a bad way) You'll want me in your arms day and night. I know you want me. But you show that you don't, i know everything. I don't know what should I do, you too don't tell me. It's bad that you hide it from me. Don't do it, cuz i love you. Your nights would be sleepless without me. (Not in an nsfw way) Look closely into my heart, you'll find yourself.
Please leave feedback in comments ! Sending Lots of love ❤️
Pile 4
There is a limit to your emotional and physical capabilities, I know you are tired of telling everyone this and no one is listening to you, but be aware that I'm here for you, I'm listening to all of your needs. I know no one knows those things about your past, but don't let yourself fall.
Look at your passion for it! You are walking circles within yourself. I'm aware of everything but I can't do anything about it except to be there for you and to listen to you.
We are bound within our own worlds for now. Wait for me. If we lose our hopes now then how will me meet? I know life is teaching you so much. It's the same for me. But remember we are getting close to each other day by day.
Everyone left you at your worst, and your heart doesn't accept this. I know all of that. Please hold on a little longer I'm coming towards you.
Since the day you've stepped into my life, it's been sincerely great for me dear.
My destiny is written with your name. I don't know how to live without you, love? (They're a but emotional telling you this)
My heart hurts seeing you like this, everything will be okay. I learned how to live from you, but never without you. Can you please not cry? It hurts me.
And yes, every compliment I ever gave you was honest. Life feels like life with you. It's colorful with you. You are the sky to my earth. I look upto you.
Come here and hug me. This connection is for a thousand lifetimes. Don't hide your tears with me.
Our connection is a secret, i haven't told anyone about this. I remember you from our past life.
I miss you every second that passes. I feel alone without you. Do you too? Don't worry I'm on my way to you.
Lots of love, 💓
Yours Only ✨️💕🧿
Please leave feedback in comments !
Pile 5
My heart doesn't accept this. It's stubborn and doesn't listen to me. It's not willing to mend the broken strings.
Why can't we forgive our mistakes? I'm sacred everything will be lost.
I don't know, my heart doesn't believe in it. Why can't we be together? All the promises are broken now?
The relationship which grew so beautifully like a rose, why is it just thorns now? My heart doesn't recognize itself. I don't recognize myself.
We gambled our happiness. No one know about this. No one knows our pain.
Our silence keeps screaming. You might be happy without me, but I'll be not.
I don't pray now, I've lost hope.
Why should I be embarrassed about telling people that I'm nothing without you?
See, you're making me go crazy. But I still want you, there's no other place I wanna be except near you.
Time will heal my pain. Who knows I'll be there tomorrow or not. Please accept me. Your thoughts keep me awake at night.
Pile 6
The night of our union will be magical. It'll bring lots and lots of happiness and healing.
I can sense the naughtiness in your eyes.
I want to have a child with you. The house will be empty no more.
You are like a dream I never wanna wake up from.
This world feels wrong, you are the only right thing in my life.
You've become my everything. My laugh, my cries. Everything.
This world tells me that my love is unrequited, atleast i can admire you from afar.
You are the last reason I'm living. And the first reason of my happiness.
Please leave feedback in comments!
Thanks for reading. Please be kind in the comments, I'm just a beginner so don't take these readings seriously. Take what resonates. And ignore grammatical errors please, english is not my first language.
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burningcheese-merchant · 16 days ago
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yandere cheese drabbles? 🤲
Merry Crimmus to you all, my gift is more Accidental Yandere Golden Cheese things today
Can't think of a story title atm, buuutttttt here is a story nevertheless 😘
Tucked under a cut because this AU is still fucked lol
"I hate you."
How long has it been since she wrote that? How long ago did she take her seat beside her desk, pull out this paper, and bring her pen to it, only for nothing but those three words to bleed out of the ink?
Sucking in a sharp breath and steeling herself, Golden Cheese at last forced her hand to move again.
"I hate you. I loathe you. You are a sick, miserable, disgusting monster. It is only by the grace of the gods that you still live, and this world shall be a brighter, happier place when you no longer do."
There. That was one thought out of the way. Given life in the waking world. Now she just needed to keep going.
"Why are you doing this? Why do you torment me this way? What have I done to deserve it?"
She paused, briefly considering adding "If you utter even a single word about the Soul Jam, I'll rip yours out of your chest and grind it into a fine powder", but decided against it and continued.
"How can you inflict such untold suffering onto others? Onto complete strangers? How many lives have you ended? How many families have you torn apart? How many hopes and dreams have you cleaved in two with that axe? And for what? For me? When I never asked or wanted you to? What in cheese's name is wrong with you?"
She stopped again, peeking over her shoulder at the shelf by her bed - the one hiding the locked metal door, leading to... her collection. A shiver crept up her spine when she realized that the shelf was slightly ajar; she hadn't taken good enough care to close it all the way after leaving earlier that day...
"And on top of it all, you burden me with these... with these so-called gifts," she wrote when she turned back to face her little work-in-progress. "These tokens of... what? Your affection? You call this affection? You think handing a woman the blood and viscera of your hapless victims is how you win her heart? What parasite burrowed into your brain and took control of your senses to make you think this way?
"You sicken me, Burning Spice. Well and truly. You are selfish, wicked and unfathomably cruel. You are a blight on all mankind. You are hardly a step above a rabid animal. I should have put you down and spared us all of this chaos ages ago."
She stopped and set the pen down. Her eyes bore into the last sentence she wrote, unblinking. Dragging along each word, back and forth, over and over again for what may as well have been an eternity.
She should have killed him already. He should be long dead. She should have saved the world as well as herself by now.
But...
... Shaking her head, she moved the letter aside and grabbed another piece of paper. That train of thought is done. Time for another one.
"You curse me, Burning Spice. Not only with your presence, not only with your words, not only with your heinous actions... You curse me with the aftermath of it all, as well. I alone am burdened with the end results of all of your lovesick rampages. I have a closet full of severed heads because of you! Innocent men and women who have been denied their lives and their dignity to satisfy your sick infatuation with me! I struggle each and every day to find their names and identities so I may return them to their loved ones, in an act of penance on both of our parts, because I am as much of a sinner as you for even having them!!!"
She always had blood to wipe off of her hands every time she went into that room. That precious ichor, now cold and sticky, staining her delicate, flawless skin as she carefully tended to the new additions and tidied up the old ones. Every single time.
Not a single head ever left that room. She did all the work of uncovering who these poor, unfortunate souls were, and then... left it at that. Left those souls trapped in limbo. In that cold closet, behind that cold metal door. Never to see the light of day again.
Every visit inside that little den of sin only made the excuses she comforted herself with grow weaker and weaker.
"I don't understand you. I have tried, and tried, and tried with all of my might, to no avail whatsoever. Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you like this? What do you stand to gain? Is this really how you wanted to live your miserable life?"
Wait.
... Who was she writing this to?
She shook her head again - harder this time - and set the letter aside, on top of the first. No more. Next thought.
"I hardly sleep anymore. I'm haunted by the things you do. The things I do. The things I DON'T do. Why have you done this to me? Why won't you stop?"
... No. No more. Into the pile. Next thought.
"You-" Her hand was starting to tremble, smudging the ink. Another deep breath and an attempt to still herself kept her moving along. "You don't hurt children. You listen to me only this one time, for this one instance. How kind of you. How sweet. How thoughtful. Why you do it, I don't know; all life seems the same to you. Just a sea of useless little flesh automatons for you to toy with and crush as you see fit. Why do you obey the line I draw? Why does it matter? Is this the one shred of conscience that yet remains within the black hole your soul resides in?"
No more. She can't think of children. It didn't matter that Burning Spice listened to her and didn't harm them; the mere possibility was too much. Too horrible. Next thought.
"You drive me mad. You never leave my mind. Front, back, the spaces between. You consume my thoughts. Your image has been engraved into the insides of my eyelids. I even DREAM of you now, so oppressive is the hold you have over me. I can't bear it. The guilt. The shame. You curse me."
Next.
"It's a waste. You're a waste. Your entire life is a waste. You could've been someone worthwhile. Someone who made this world more bearable. You have the power, you have the means. Yet you always choose yourself. You were a hero once upon a time, there's no reason you cannot be one again. What a waste."
Next.
"Or were you not? You were never truly a hero, were you? You did it for the praise. For the gold and jewels. For the scores of people chanting your name, building statues in your honor. Selfishness. Arrogance. You're a thief. A coward. A fool."
Who- no, who is this? Who is this for, again?
"I hate you. I HATE YOU. I WANT TO KILL YOU. I WISH TO SEE THE LIGHT IN YOUR DEVIL'S EYES DIM AS I END YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE. YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME. YOUR FEELINGS MEAN NOTHING. YOU ARE SICK! DERANGED! THE ONLY PERSON YOU EVER LOVED WAS YOURSELF, AND EVERY COURSE OF ACTION YOU TAKE ONLY SERVES TO PROVE IT MORE AND MORE!"
Her hands were trembling violently now. Ink splotches stained the pages. Deep, dark dots. Jagged streaks. Small, delicate fingerprints hovering above certain words.
"I want you."
Same as the very first letter, Golden Cheese stopped and stared down at the page with wide, unblinking eyes.
"I want you You're handsome. I think you're handsome. Devastatingly so."
A bead of sweat trickled down her temple.
"I want you You're handsome. I think you're handsome. Devastatingly so. Your voice shoots through my ears and drills into my skull each time you speak. I never want you to stop talking. Why do you ever stop talking?"
His voice. That deep baritone that went from silky smooth to hot and rough effortlessly. Did he do it just to get to her? To rile her up? Did he know what his voice did to her?
It was working.
"Did your eyes always look the way they do? Is the fire within them ever-burning? Were they taken from a demon and given to you the day you were born? Why do I still feel them raking over me, consuming me, even long after we've parted ways? Why do you always seek to set me ablaze?"
"It's a waste. Really. A waste. You're a good-looking man. You could've lived a normal life. You could've found a nice girl and-"
And? And? And what?
"You could've used that face and voice and those eyes of yours to charm someone and-"
And? Why can't she finish the thought? Why did her heart pound against her ribcage so hard it ached every time she tried?
"You you would you could have you could've been a normal reasonable good man and had a wife and children-"
She took the page and crumpled it, tossing it at the wall.
"I want you. I want your voice in my ears. I want your eyes devouring me. I want to hold your face in my hands. I want you to give me another one of those hellish grins of yours. I want to feel you sink your teeth into me. I want to taste your lips. I want to feel your tongue caress mine. I want to feel your hot breath in my mouth, on my skin. I want your hands on me. All over me. I want you to touch me. You've told me about all the things you want to do to me- do it. Do them. I'm sick of waiting and so are you. Why do you tease us both like this? Do it. Touch me. Taste me. Break my bones. Break my bed. Praise me, call me a goddess, worship me. Worship me like you have been all this time. Tell me you love me. Tell me you adore me. That you'll die without me. That you'll slaughter us all for my sake. Do it. DO IT. Praise me, touch me, kiss me, fuck me, just fuck me, Burning Spice, PLEASE-"
No. No, no, no. Not this. She can't say any of this. She can't. SHE CAN'T.
"YOU'RE MINE. YOU BELONG TO ME NOW. IS THIS NOT THE LEAST YOU OWE ME FOR WHAT YOU PUT ME THROUGH? YOU'RE MINE! MINE! YOUR TROPHIES ARE MINE! YOUR BODY IS MINE! YOUR HEART IS MINE! ALL MINE! DON'T YOU DARE EVEN CONSIDER DOING ANY OF THIS FOR ANYONE ELSE!"
"YOU'RE MINE"
"YOU'RE ALL MINE"
"I HATE YOU"
She slammed her fists down onto the desk with such force that cracks formed in their wake. Out of the chair, away from the desk, out of her bedroom she went. Rushing down the hall. All but throwing herself out the nearest door. Taking off into the sky with a quickness that made her wings ache.
So absorbed in her failed therapy session was she, that she never noticed that the eyes of the marble snake adorning the decorative tree Burning Spice had given her had been glowing the entire time. Nor did she know that he himself, that object of her ire and her sick affection, was lounging on his throne, watching her fall apart with that devil's grin she loved so much.
----------------
Hope this is good. I'm sorry to keep you all waiting. New installment in the Accidental Yandere AU, there shall be more soon. Happy Crimmus 🎄
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bitchfitch · 16 days ago
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Once upon a time their forest home suffered an endless night. Their great dragon god was punishing them for the theft of something precious to him. No lavish festival nor offering of rich drink or hearty food would water his fury.
The fauns of then thought their home would be lost to his darkness forever, only for one of their to offer himself as tribute.
Tahir, a young shrine attendant, walked into the forest beyond their home to meet the dragon at the entrance of his den. He said to the dragon "If my people's gold and my temple's joy is not enough to sate you, then may my flesh be your cure. My people repent for the crime done to you, but they know not how to repay it. Punish me, kill me, in their stead."
He bowed his head and waited for death. No sweat on his brow nor did his heart race, for Tahir was kind and loved nothing more than his people and the god they worshipped. His death would be just. His life given more purpose than any could have dreamt of for themselves.
The dragon looked at the selfless young man who's beauty and love and kindness were without compare, and he said "I will have you, not as a feast, but as my only equal." for he had fallen deeply in love at the first sight of the man and wanted not his death, but his hand in eternal marriage.
The dragon gave the sun to Tahir, as he was the brightest and warmest source of joy in their forest. It was only right that he be who decided when it should shine. It was a power Tahir never once misused for he loved his people and wanted nothing more than to see them thrive.
The two ruled together for a time, the common man that was Tahir was transformed by the people's worship of him. His kindness grew, his blessings brought love and joy and bountiful families. His husband's adoration of him turned the once ferocious and fickle dragon into an equally doting and benevolent god. Their forest was warm with their love, the trees heavy with fruit made sweet by their joy, the frigid desert beyond their home kept distant by their devotion to each other and to their people.
Though tragedy loomed as such peace could not last when mortal hands carried out deeds best left to the gods.
The prize stolen from the great dragon's hoard was a sword forged by his own kin. It's blade made to slice deep through draconic flesh. It's purpose was always to be his death when he grew tired of the immortality he was born into. A gift to him from peers who had long chosen their own blades over another day.
The priests, the foolish, idiot, priests of yore had stolen the blade with intent to make their god a thing of the past. The dragon was temperamental and cruel when Tahir could not calm his raging storms. How long until their kind, golden god would be victim to the beast? Tahir who loved them all without question would protect them as their king better than he ever could as their dragon god's mate.
They believed in their heart of hearts, that to save themselves, they must liberate their sun from the dragon's clutches.
One struck out from their village on the first evening of truest winter, through their home and to the great dragon's den. At its center the priest found him slumbering in his bed.
Their sun, Tahir, at his side. He begged for his husband's life but the priest was deaf to his pleads. Tahir didn't know what was best for them all, the priest thought as he lunged.
The blade cut deep into softest flesh. Tahir, kind and beautiful, had put himself between the priest and his love. His pained sob was what finally woke the beast from its truest winter sleep.
The priest escaped as the dragon chose to remain by his dying lovers side to the very end. For the dragon never cared about the fauns or their priests, only for their worship, and only then until he had found warmth so much deeper in the embrace of selfless, kind Tahir.
It is said that with Tahir's dying breaths he made his love promise him that he would not snuff the sun again.
Their people so beloved by him were foolish, but they did not deserve such punishment. He was always the one meant to suffer for them, not the one they were to suffer for.
The dragon agreed, and held kind Tahir until his warmth was gone from the forest he had adored so deeply.
Tahir's sun, the one that sat near and gave their home joyful warmth even when the distant sun set behind the horizon for months at a time, dimmed and shone as it always had under his care. The dragon, fickle as he was, would never betray a promise made to his husband.
Though, the fauns of the forest never saw it's glow again. The storms brewed with Tahir's dying breaths. The dragon cloaked his sun in thick storm clouds to selfishly hide it's light. He would not snuff it, but his sun, Tahir, had been taken from him, and he would not let another know the sun's warmth until his own was returned.
The storms had raged across the whole forest ever since.
Tahir knew the legend well. It was his story after all.
The thick mud sucked his aching legs down with every step, the heavy rain beat against his back, the winds tangled his loose and wild hair about his wedding dress's skirts. The ice of the storm was beat out by his burning fury.
The Distant Sun would soon rise for the first time in months. It's meager light wouldn't cut through the storm or the twisted boughs of the trees, but it's return was chosen to be the symbol of his union to the monster at the heart of this forest.
Tahir was dead. He had been for so long that not a single soul remembered what the Near Sun felt like.
Tahir was new and alive. A supposed reincarnation meant to be given as offering and apology to the Great Dragon.
He marched onward, the sword that killed the Sun gripped in his hands. It's heavy blade dragged in the soil. His shoulders burned from the effort of pulling it's massive weight.
The dragon had slayed each and every one of the brides sent to replace his Sun. Their bodies desecrated by his carnivorous teeth before their remains were dropped at the feet of Tahir's shrine. The blood still stained the grout when Tahir of the Rising Sun was raised into being their god.
He remembered asking the priests about the stains when he was just a boy. They said they were a sign of his husband's love for him. That the other brides were given to him as offerings so their blood may make him strong for his duty at his husband's side.
The clearing around the dragons den yawned before him, the eye of the storm a thick splotch of suffocated light as the concealed sun struggled to shine through the whirlpool clouds.
He would not be another rejected bride.
"Daeodon!" he called his husband's true name. He'd been hip height when the word was whispered into his ear for the first time. His hair had been braided with flowers, the barely there nubs of his horns painted, his robes decorated in so many beads he had trouble standing under their weight, before he was left in the dragon's shrine alone for a week of isolated prayer.
He called the name again, his mouth still open to demand the beast face him when the storm above ruptured.
The earth shook with the thunder of the great dragon god's landing. His mighty wings blotted the hidden sun's meager light. his tusks and horns glowed with lightning, his very breath fogged the rain saturated air with light.
His eyes, pinpricks of silver against the thick black hide of his mighty countenance, landed on Tahir and the storm froze. It's howling winds stilling like they're been caught by their necks. The constant rumble of rain went silent.
"Tahir -" His voice sounded like a bass drum. It was felt more than heard. His head lowered, his wings folded, he took a step forward and on his animal face there was hope. "My Sunlight -"
Tahir had had his everyday decided for him from the moment he was born. His every second accounted for so that he may perfectly fill a dead man's place in a monster's bed. He had never known hope.
He swung the blade. The beast recoiled as a gash of dripping crimson cracked the side of his face.
"Speak that name again!" Tahir demanded, his throat already raw from screaming "See if your prayers are what will make him stop his rotting!"
He had never so much as twirled a staff, but his rage proved to be equal to any amount strength built through action. Again the sword cut the air between them. Again the idiot beast recoiled instead of ran. Those animal eyes filled with shock as though he had never once thought the man who preyed his hatred of him every morning would dare raise a weapon instead of just accepting his death.
The blade was heavier than anything he had ever been allowed to attempt to carry. It's tip failed to raise when Tahir tried once more to cut through the monsters neck. His every muscle burned. The weight of it pulled him to his knees in the disgusting mud.
Daeodon stepped to pin the sword that would be his death into the soil. His thick hoof bleeding where it cut into him as he leaned to close the space between them. His marred snout twisted in a snarl.
"What kind of beast are you?" he growled before finally charging.
The breath was beat from Tahir's chest, Daeodon's thick nose colliding with his ribs as the monster ripped him from the earth with nothing but the strength of his stout neck. His tusks pressed into Tahir's sides, panic made him scramble to dig his dulled nails into the wounds across Daeodon's face only for his efforts to be ignored like a fly on an elephants back in the seconds it took for Daeodon to pick a tree to charge.
Tahir had never felt the thorns of the plants that grew within the gardens dedicated to him. He felt the agony of his back colliding with the trunk of an ancient tree. It shocked through him. His every bone shook in its place as his ribs threatened to crack under the impact. His abdomen screamed with what would be dark bruising. His life saved from being crushed out of him only by merit of the monster's tusks becoming ensnared in the twisting wood. Daeodon thrashed to get free, his teeth grinding deep against the soft of Tahir's gut.
"Your tears will not work- What Are you!?" He demanded. He kicked at the tree, uncaring if he caught one of Tahir's legs beneath his hooves. "How Dare you use his face- How dare you cry with his voice."
Finally he ripped free, leaving Tahir to collapse once more. He couldn't breathe through his sobbing. He had wanted to die valorous, but he hadn't wanted this agony to accompany it. He could barely stand laying in the mud, his every inch ached like his bones would be ripping through his skin if he dared to look.
"Stop!" Daeodon demanded his hoof coming down close enough to Tahir's head for it to catch and yank in his hair.
He didn't mean to scream, he didn't know what else to do when all that came was more and more pain.
"I said Stop. Stop. Whatever prize you came her for you may have it just stop-" he tried to nose at Tahir's side, an animal attempt at defusing a situation neither of them were equipped to handle, only to react to Tahir flinching away from him in fear like it was another sword swing. "Please stop. I can't stand that sound. Cry with anyone else's voice. Please."
"I only have the one voice!" Tahir screamed at him, his fading strength being put into shoving away from the beast.
"It's not your voice-" he was shut up by a weak kick at his jaw, as though it had had a fraction of the force behind it that Daeodon had used to bodily throw him. "Please, just stop-"
He nuzzled Tahir's side where the bruising was already darkest. The press was agony, Tahir grabbed him by his tusks as he attempted escape only for one of those mighty hooves to come to pin his legs.
"Hold still, just hold still, please let me heal you. You know I can't stand the sound of your crying." Daeodon's might wavered in his tone, like he too was on the verge of collapse from their one sided battle.
"Just fucking kill me-"
"No. No. Tahir, never. Please just be quiet." he groveled like he didn't know who he was talking to anymore. "Please it will be all alright. You will be ok. Please just stop crying.
Tahir's response was lost to the bright shock that erupted through his chest. His battle for consciousness being lost along side it.
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wholoveseggs · 10 months ago
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I also have another one!! I’d love to see like Rebekahs friend(the reader) and Elijah’s love story. Like how they met(maybe in the Victorian age or Viking) and just them through the eras! If that is something you would be interested in doing! Like no problems just a cute little thing about their story through the time 💕💕 as always no pressure 💕
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Worth the wait
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You and Elijah are childhood friends, dipping in and out of each others lives for the past one thousand years. You hope that one day you will have a chance to be together and find the love you've always longed for.
♡♡ Thanks for the requests @ashloring & @loving-and-dreaming I got these requests back to back and I thought they were perfect combined together. Sorry it took so long, I really wanted to do this story justice... hopefully it is... ♡♡
7.1k words - Warnings: smut, angst, reminiscing, playful sex, Elijah being very silly and sappy.
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You were always fated to love him from afar. From the first moment you ever laid eyes on Elijah — you knew deep down that you would love him as long as you lived. What you didn't know was how long that would be.
You grew up together in a quaint viking village, learning to hunt and forage. He pushed you around, pulled your braids and teased you. You gave back as much as you got, biting and scratching until you were both on the ground tousling around in a full blown battle to prove who was the winner.
The nature of your play fighting changed when you became teenagers, arms still grabbing, but now holding a little bit longer, hands lingering, brushing one anothers faces. Eyes meeting, always with a blush and hasty awkward parting.
When his mother caught you laying on his bed together, fully clothed with a few shy pecks here and there, she sent you away. From that point on, you barely spoke, too embarrassed and flustered to communicate.
You grew up and grew apart, watching him and his family from afar. There was always a darkness over the Mikaelson household, a lingering sense of unease that kept everyone in the village back.
Still the sight of him was enough to brighten your day. Even though you stayed far away from him and his family, Elijah often found you sitting near him, the two of you were simply drawn to each other.
Life was perfect and peaceful until one night, screams echoed in the darkness, sending you from the safety of your bed. It was coming from his home, so you quickly grabbed the only weapon you could find and ran towards the sound.
What you found was beyond anything you could imagine, death and magic combined as the family mutated into a monster to rival the ones of mythological tales.
Esther spotted you and forced you to your knees, laying beside Elijah's body as she began her spell. Once you were tied by mystical cords you didn't understand, she muttered the same incantations she had spoken over each of her children.
That was your last night as a human, the last night you were alive.
Life as an original vampire was unexpected, it came with anger, lust, bloodlust, and unmatched supernatural strength that took adjusting.
Luckily you weren't entirely alone, you had the Mikaelson siblings, teaching each other, being patient, especially Elijah. Together you mastered every nuance in becoming the strongest predator there was.
While you may have been turned against your will, you quickly accepted this new existence. The freedom that came with an endless future proved rewarding with each sunrise.
But soon the prospect of an endless future turned into a curse and you learned the only true enemy of an original was time itself.
Eternity felt hollow as you watched every friend you made grow old and die while you were forced to continue on. Leaving you, haunted and depressed with no escape in sight.
And the only group of people who understood your plight suffered from their own problems. You spent your first five hundred years with them, moving around from country to country before you needed to take a long break from them.
You hoped that Elijah would always keep his heart, stay gentle and kind, but that was impossible. He matured into someone cunning and ruthless, his humanity slowly slipping away, tainted by the brutalities of this life.
The constant bickering, hateful arguments and petty jealousy between them drove you away. After those years you decided to live independently, only visiting the Mikaelson's every couple centuries, trying your best to keep hold of your humanity, while feeling lost in the ever flowing sea of time.
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You sat out front a quiet little cafe, sipping on a espresso and browsing your phone. Modern technology was still such a trip to you, just one change after another in an impossible to keep up with world. Everyday some new gadget popped up.
You remembered a time when it took weeks to travel from one place to another. For a letter to make its way took months. And now you could press a button on the piece of glass in your hand and have a face to face conversation with someone on the other side of the world.
It was fascinating, these human inventions that filled their mundane lives. You envied how enraptured they were in their invented distractions. Not everything changed, humans were still so desperate for a simple illusion to fill the boredom of the days drudgery.
But today wasn't an ordinary day for you, today you had a date. Or at least, you wanted it to be a date, Elijah probably saw it as just meeting up with an old friend.
He sat down across from you, handsome as ever, elegant and charming, just as you remembered. Dressed in a black suit, the perfect mix of old fashioned and contemporary.
But when he smiled at you, all your trepidation melted away. It was the same familiar smile you fell in love with, holding that bright twinkle in his eyes and showing off those dimples.
"It's been a while," he said with a faint smile.
"Just a little," you smirked playfully.
He always had the same mannerisms, crossing his legs and holding his body with poise. However in the centuries you spent around him, you learned all his tells. The way he always touched his face when uncomfortable, his tendency to play with his hands.
"How have you been?" he asked, leaning back in his seat as he ordered a cup of coffee.
He politely thanked the waitress that delivered it, before taking a sip, his dark eyes set intensely on yours.
"Me, oh I've been..." you let your voice trail off for a moment, swallowing the memories that threatened to steal your poise.
But Elijah knew what you were thinking, not having seen one another for so long, the memories of the last time you saw eachother tried to force their way back to the front of your mind.
It was the 1950s, and you ran into him in New York of all places. It was the first time you thought you actually had a real chance with him, but he was plagued by his missing siblings, his rage at his brother turned him into a man you barely recognized.
Watching him torture people for information, murdering innocent bystanders didn't seem out of the ordinary anymore, this new Elijah was beyond ruthless. He was a man devoted only to killing his enemies.
Today he seemed far different, poised and kind. The Elijah you fell in love with as a girl had somehow resurfaced and seemed quite eager to make your acquaintance. Or perhaps you just wanted to see him as the man you have always loved, a possibility of a future with him you always dreamed of.
"I guess we haven't really kept in touch," you murmured softly. "I've been off doing my thing and I've missed you more than words could say. Though... you obviously haven't missed me, being so busy playing king of the vampires," you teased him.
"Well someone has to keep the order," he said with a smirk.
"And you think you're the best man for the job?" you raised your brows.
His gaze met yours, he couldn't help the nostalgia that built up in him. Seeing you staring at him, reminded of the times when he first fell in love with you. He had both just turned thirteen and it was like he was seeing you for the first time, dancing around the fire with ribbons in your hair. All the times he would look at you, getting flustered, only to see you looking back at him with the same unspoken feeling between you.
"Well it's either me or Niklaus," Elijah answered as he took a drink.
"Fair enough," you laughed softly and sighed.
Elijah loved that laugh, the way it made your eyes light up. His heart melted, seeing you looking so beautiful. He never stood a chance, you could have your pick of any man, ones who would worship the ground you walked on, ones that could give you a happy life.
"I trust the family is doing well?" you asked with an even gaze.
He nodded. "I have a niece now, Hope. She's brought light back into my family," he smiled slightly.
You loved seeing him this way, happy and hopeful, exactly the way it should be.
"I can't believe it, Niklaus a father. Angels weep," you jested with a laugh.
"Well sometimes you have to set aside your misgivings and make room for surprises," he smirked.
"Spoken like a true mediator," you replied, toasting him with your mug.
You talked for what seemed like forever, catching up on lost time, simply taking in one another's presence. His gaze lingered on you, admiring your confidence. You've always had that glow, drawing everyone in with your easy nature.
"Now tell me, how was your time in Paris?" Elijah asked curiously.
"Has Elijah Mikaelson been keeping tabs on me?" You teased him and laughed.
"I've managed to keep track of a few things," he smirked.
"Nothing you didn't already know, I've spent the past few decades indulging in one thing or another," you answered honestly. "Wine, art, food, sex…”
"How do I fall into those categories?" he chuckled, cocking his head to the side.
"Hmmm, I want to say art but I don't want to feed your ego, so wine it is," you grinned.
"Not sex?" he questioned with a grin.
You shrugged and sipped on your drink, trying to conceal the hot blush spreading over your skin.
"I wouldn't know, now, would I?" you teased him.
It was meant to be a question, that's what you intended, however it came out as an admission and you winced slightly, embarrassed that your nerves were starting to take over.
Elijah loved flirting with you, it felt different than with anyone else, there was something about it, like he was doing it for the first time, all nerves and awkwardness. He saw the flush and pink in your cheeks, the same sweet little blush from a thousand years ago, he knew you felt the same way.
"Would you like to?" he asks curiously.
"Please, Elijah..." you laughed off his question.
You shuffled in your seat nervously. Not believing that Elijah had actually seen the potential for romance. He was just teasing, friendly banter between old friends.
"How's your dating life?" You asked, steering the conversation away from the uncomfortableness you were feeling.
"You're asking me out?" he smirked.
"Fuck off," you chuckled playfully. "I was only going to ask if you are still pinning after Katherine," you teased.
"Now who's keeping tabs?" He countered with a smile.
"Do you blame me? C'mon, give me all the delicious gossip."
"Well.. I finally found her. We had lots of sex, then I dumped her," he quipped.
"Oh my, Elijah, a heartbreaker," you smirked.
"Yes, that's me. Now you, I've always wondered who you were with?" Elijah brought the attention back to you, waiting for an explanation.
You rolled your eyes and relaxed into the chair. "Men, women, witches, werewolves…” you joked.
"Not sex, I meant love. Did you meet anyone that holds your heart?" He clarified, fiddling with his hands under the table, both excited and nervous to hear what you had to say.
You got a little flustered and swallowed, shrugging it off as nothing. There was no one. You certainly met some contenders over the years, but no one came close to the man that sat across from you.
"Love is exhausting," you replied casually. "Much like everything in this life, it's all the same. At the end of the day, you're left feeling empty."
He listened. He understood what you mean, eternity can feel so empty. But he felt an optimism when he was around you, no longer did he feel chained to life, to time.
"I don't agree," he murmured softly, "I think you just haven't found it yet."
"Elijah, c'mon," you laughed a bit and shook your head.
It seemed as though every date you had in the last ten centuries paled in comparison. When you were with him it just felt different, it wasn't lust, or an insatiable need to be around him. It was peace, it was comfort, he felt like home and it was special.
"No, really," he paused and smiled softly. "C'mon, lets go for a walk, I'll show you," he stood up, reaching his hand towards you.
You stood, and began walking, chatting about old times. He reminded you of the day you spent together in 1599 where you saw Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the Globe theater, both of you sitting up in the rafters with the best view there was.
One thing led to another and the two of you ended up chasing one another all around the city, drinking far too much rum and dramatically reenacting the stabbing in a fit of giggles.
You reminded him of the time in the 1650s in Spain where you witnessed a beautiful redhead attempt to flirt with him by twirling her fan and covering half her face. It just resulted in the both of you mocking her mercilessly, a small giggle escaped your lips when you remembered his laughter.
"She was so in love with you, but could barely hold a conversation with you, what was her name? The one with all the freckles," you chuckled.
"Ugh... not Silvia. I haven't thought about her in a very long time. Fortunately she went and married some merchant banker and left me alone," he chucked, guiding you towards a nearby garden.
You walked down a tree-shaded path, crossing a bridge over a trickling creek, and past the playground where children giggled as they played. Elijah led you towards a gazebo, passing by an elderly couple enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon.
"I thought you were going to show me how to find love?" you teased, elbowing him playfully.
He chuckled and put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against him.
"Look at them over there, two people growing old together," he said softly, nodding towards the couple."That's a beautiful story right there, it goes from meeting, to dating, to falling in love, to having a marriage full of ups and downs. Every difficult time, every disagreement, every moment of compassion and reassurance is enough to have them stay together." He looked at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You listened closely, hanging on every word, studying his expression. Looking up at him as the sunlight came shining through the leafy branches of the trees.
"I bet if we asked them they would tell us the secret to it all," you said quietly, looking back over at the little old couple.
They were wrapped up in their own world, swaying ever so slightly to the soft music playing nearby. Their love for one another so bright.
Elijah stood and walked over to them, sitting down on the bench next to him. You paused for a moment and then followed him, moving to the empty spot beside him.
"Excuse me," Elijah spoke in a voice hushed and sincere. "We just wanted to know," he continued, gently compelling them to answer, "what is the secret of love?"
"Well, I guess, patience," the woman answered sweetly.
The man slowly blinked, his head cocking to the side as he answered, "trust, communication, passion..."
"What is your favorite memory together?" You asked politely, leaning forward.
They looked at one another and burst into hearty, genuine laughter.
"Doing dishes, long drives, waking up to breakfast in bed, cuddling under a blanket in the winter, or just a hug after a bad day..." she answered wistfully.
"All the quiet moments in-between, like coming home after a hard day of work and changing into our comfy clothes," he paused and grabbed her hand, "putting on a movie and just ordering in. We can lay there in one another's arms, always together in that bubble of comfort."
You smiled softly. There's something about the simplicity of it, and the sheer joy in doing those things with the one you love. The ordinary and everyday.
Elijah glanced over at you with a smile, then thanked the couple.
"Thank you, you've been wonderful," Elijah finished kindly.
"I hope you and your lady are just as happy as we are," the man said, turning to kiss his wife lovingly on the cheek.
"I'm sure of it," Elijah stood up and began walking away, holding his hand out for you.
You stood up and intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze as you mouthed a thank you towards the elderly man.
"Does that answer your question? Love just happens and it's imperfectly wonderful," Elijah said simply.
"Have you ever found a love like that?" you asked curiously.
He paused and a thoughtful expression fell over his face, wondering where to begin. He placed his hand over yours, stroking the back of your knuckles as he looked deep into your eyes, confessing a feeling he's hidden all this time.
"Only once, when I was too young to understand what I had," he admitted softly. "We were only children then."
Your heart began to beat faster, hearing him say it out loud made your breath hitch in your throat.
"And what about now?" You asked in a near whisper, afraid of what he would say, but unable to live without the answer.
He grinned and suddenly scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder, just like when you would play flight as children.
You squealed and laughed out in delight.
"What are you doing?" You giggled loudly, slapping his back, but he simply ignored you.
"Reminiscing," he answered swiftly.
"This is hardly reminiscing," you teased.
"To me it is, with you in my arms, laughing," he added cheekily.
You were incredibly flustered, but you didn't want this to stop. It was silly, and unexpected and made you think about all the times you two were together as children. It made you feel as you always did with him, free, alive, all nerves and blushing and awkward touches.
So you just rested your chin against him and giggled loudly as you watched the ground pass by underneath you.
"Where are you taking me?" you questioned softly.
He smiled and didn't answer, biting his lip as he tightened his grip on you.
It didn't take long for you to spot the bridge you walked over, carrying you out onto the sidewalk outside the gardens.
He pulled you up and set you back on your feet, both of you giggling breathlessly, your hands on his chest, his hands on your waist.
The two of you stood there for a moment, eyes scanning one another's face, catching your breaths and gazing longingly. His gaze focused on your lips, while yours focused on his eyes, the fondness in them made your cheeks heat up.
His grip tightened around you, your hands fisting in his shirt as he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
You swore you could have floated away that moment. His hands cradled your face as you pulled him closer. Your lips parting for him as he deepened the kiss.
You pulled away from the kiss after a moment. "Can we talk about that for a minute?" you said, your gaze fell away, finding it hard to meet his eyes, your heart felt like it would burst from the surges of love that came pouring out.
He shook his head and kissed you again, brushing his nose against yours, a smile across his lips.
"Lets not speak... lets keep kissing," he whispered with a soft laugh.
You smiled and closed your eyes, tilting your head back, enjoying the feel of him loving you after such a long time. The feel of his body against yours.
He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and just taking a moment to enjoy your company. The feeling of your breath against his skin.
"So... let's talk," he smirked against your lips and traced his fingers down the side of your face.
He felt you nod. "Mmm, in bed," you murmured and stole another kiss.
"Okay," he nodded and swiftly scooped you into his arms.
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"Nice place," you commented lightly as your eyes scanned over the art and furniture in the compound. "I can see you were in charge of the decor," you said cheekily.
He laughed. "Naturally, darling," he replied. "Klaus is always out for blood and I had to ensure it wasn't on every wall."
Elijah led you down a hallway to a lavish bedroom, opening the door and ushering you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He held you close, his hand on your waist, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear and pulling you in for a kiss.
"Do you remember the last time we were in bed together?" He asked softly.
"You brought me into your home under false pretenses, you said you were going to show me a dagger your father had," you replied, recalling the time you were teenagers, kissing in his bed, all nerves and eagerness.
"I really did want to show you that dagger, my intentions were innocent that evening," he protested lightly. "But then you laid down on my bed, making yourself at home, and there you were, wearing such a sweet little dress with such tantalizing seams all over."
"I can't believe you remember the dress I was wearing," you said, placing your hands on his chest and toying with the buttons of his shirt.
He chuckled. "I remember everything about that day," he smiled, "it was my first kiss, how could I not memorize every detail?"
"What else do you remember?" You asked softly, looking into his eyes.
"I remember laying down beside you, I was so nervous," he admitted softly. "We laid on our backs for a while, just chatting. Your hand brushed against mine and I wrapped my fingers with yours, scared you would push me away," he looked away, lost in the memory, smiling softly.
"I was so sure that you would, but you didn't and we grew quiet, all nerves, side by side." He looked back at you, a twinkle in his eye.
"We could hear the sounds of the village outside as it prepared for the feast. We laid there like that, my heart racing, thumb tracing your palm. I turned to face you, you wore this little shy smile. And there I was, frozen by the way you looked."
"Your hair was braided and those perfect lips were slightly parted," he cupped your cheek, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. "I was terrified to mess it all up."
You were speechless, all you could do was smile and laugh softly. He began to guide you back towards his bed, still talking as he undressed you slowly, "But we laid there just staring, and gazing into each other's eyes. Slowly I leaned closer, so close we were breathing each other in, just sharing a breath, trying not to spook one another."
"And then, before I knew it, your lips found mine and all of my nervousness melted away. Slow, soft kisses, that little braid tickling my neck and the taste of the berries you had earlier still sweet on your lips."
You blushed at the memory, his words making you tear up, you couldn't believe he remembered.
"Your hands were shaking against my chest, so I lifted them to my lips," he stopped talking for a moment, reenacting the memory by kissing your hands once more.
"Then your mother walked in," you commented, smiling at his gesture.
He smirked against your skin. "Well, before she did," he began, he spoke softly as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress, letting it fall to your feet. "I was... learning the taste of your lips," he continued slowly. "They still taste the same, lovely and sweet,"
His eyes scanned over you, taking in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world, right there in his room, standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and underwear.
You smiled and tugged on the buttons of his shirt, eagerly undoing them and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders as you began kissing along his jaw.
"It feels like yesterday," you whispered, moaning against his lips as his hands went to your waist, his fingertips dancing over your skin.
The sensation tickled and made you giggle, trying to pull his hands away but that just sent a whole new wave of laughter bubbling out of you as he pulled you against him with a grin.
The two of you stumbled backwards to the edge of the bed, kissing deeply and continuing to undress each other as you fell onto the mattress in a fit of laughter.
He pinned you down, but you pushed him off, the two of you beginning to wrestle for the upper hand. You giggled and squealed as he tickled you mercilessly, kissing along your neck and biting playfully, all while his fingers danced and caressed over your stomach.
"Elijah, STOP! Hahaha," you pleaded, squirming beneath him. "Stop stop," you laughed.
"What's wrong, my little love," he asked playfully, grabbing your wrists in his hand and pinning them above your head.
You kissed him quickly, grinning when he released you, "Let me breathe!" you said with a laugh.
He smiled warmly, glancing down at your smiling lips. "You make me feel like a teenager again," he admitted softly, then began tickling your sides again, catching you off guard.
You squealed, squirming in his grip and playfully struggling to break free. You could feel his erection brushing against you, his hips pressing between your thighs as he continued to attack you.
"Eli!” You gasped, wriggling your body under him, wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over onto his back.
He was laughing along with you, his breathing heavy as he settled beneath you, grinning up at you. “I surrender, you have bested me,” he said, looking up at you in awe.
You smiled and sat back on his lap, "oh don't give me that cheeky grin," you replied, wrinkling your nose at him.
His hands fell to your thighs, squeezing them as he smiled. You rocked your hips slowly, grinding yourself on his cock. He moaned softly, his mouth hung open as he watched the way you moved above him. Your lace panties rubbing over the rough material of his pants.
"I've dreamed of this for centuries," he confessed in a whisper. "You on my lap, your hands on me, the beauty of your body..."
Your eyes glanced down as he spoke, admiring his abs and the V-shaped muscles running down below his waistband. You made eye contact and started to slowly unhook your bra, letting it fall to the ground before tossing it to the floor.
He groaned softly, admiring the softness of your breasts and the perk of your nipples. You caught him staring and smiled, taking his hands into yours and placing them on you, urging him to touch you.
He sat up, capturing a nipple between his lips, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts, cupping and massaging them in his hands. He kissed up your chest to your neck and found your lips again, kissing you slowly and passionately. He broke the kiss, glancing into your eyes with a look of raw, aching love.
"You know what would have happened if my mother didn't walk in?" He murmured, keeping his voice low and hushed, nearly a whisper.
You simply shook your head.
"I would've put my head between these thighs," he continued, squeezing them in his strong hands. "I would've made you giggle and squirm until you surrendered to my lips," he grabbed your hips and rocked you along his length, making your breath hitch in your throat.
"You would've gotten me pregnant," you chuckled, thinking back to how naive and innocent the two of you were, no idea of the consequences of what you had been attempting.
He smiled and grabbed your face gently, "then I would have made you my wife," he grinned and leaned forward, whispering against your lips, "and we would have grown old together, watching our little ones run through the village... a full happy life," he kissed you again.
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I always dreamed of waking up to your beautiful face every morning," he said softly. “Perhaps if time and circumstances treated us kindly…”
You felt a little sad at his words, imagining the perfect little life you could have had together. "I would have liked that," you said slowly, gazing into his kind eyes.
You held a gaze with him for a moment before kissing him again, reaching down to his pants, unbuttoning them with slow, careful movements. He watched as you tugged them down and off of his legs and then lowered down to kiss him again, rubbing your core against his length.
He pulled your panties to the side, tracing his fingers over your clit, rubbing it with slow and loving circles.
You broke the kiss, your forehead pressed against his, your eyes shut tightly as he pleasured you, massaging your clit with expertise. "‘lijah...," you let out a little moan. "Where did you learn that?"
He grinned, biting his lip as he watched the pleasure on your face. "I've been practicing with all these other women, waiting to have a chance with you." He replied.
You opened your eyes, an expression of faux hurt painted across your face. "Are you trying to say I was your last resort?"
He grabbed the back of your neck with a playful smirk, "you are my only choice, my love," he guided you back to his lips and kissed you deeply, his free hand cupping your ass, tugging you against him.
"Only choice," you repeated between kisses, grinding on his fingers as he pleased you.
"I love you, it was only ever you," he declared, his eyes scanning your face with intensity.
You smiled and stole another kiss from him. "Then, prove it," you whispered against his lips.
He grinned and pulled his hand away, suddenly ticking your sides again and making you laugh and whimper out playfully as he flipped you over onto your back.
You were laughing uncontrollably, grinning as you kissed him back while he tickled you. You gasped for air and submitted beneath him as he kissed and nipped his way down your body.
Finally, he made his way to your core, hooking a finger under the lace and pulling your panties down. He tossed them to the floor and dove in, draping your thighs over his shoulders, burying his mouth into you.
You gasped, laughing as you fell back onto the mattress, rocking your hips against him. He grinned up at you as he swiped his tongue over your clit.
"Allll these women, practice, and nothing to show for it," you sighed as you teased him, breathy and laced with laughter.
He looked up, a flash of competitiveness crossing his face as he eased two fingers inside you and nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your teasing was replaced with mewls and moans as you ran your fingers through his hair and rode his tongue, soft curses and whispered pleas were all you managed to get out.
He closed his eyes and took his time, one hand around your thigh, stroking circles over your skin, while his tongue and fingers worked in union. He couldn't believe he had you, right here, and he intended to make you feel every bit of love he had to offer.
He smirked against your heat as you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your hips against his mouth. He has dreamed of this moment for one thousand years, but the real thing was so much better than he had ever imagined.
You trembled and squeezed your legs around him, moaning and gasping as you were pulled closer to your climax. He urged you on as you fucked his mouth, whimpering softly, your free hand bunched up the bed sheets.
The stimulation was too much as he hummed and sucked your clit, your body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Your thighs gripped his head like a vice and your body stiffened as you cried out his name, digging your heels into the bed to try and ride it out on his mouth.
You tugged his head away, panting and trying to regain control of your body, your head still spinning.
You gasped and laughed, covering your face.
He smirked, as he wiped his mouth on your thigh.
You smiled down at him, "okay…maybe one thousand years was enough time to gain some skill," you chuckled, pulling him close for a kiss.
His hands trailed over your breasts, slowly kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers. You mewled softly against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.
He kissed your forehead, your nose and along your jaw, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck, watching it instantly heal. He could do this forever, tasting your skin and listening to the perfect little sounds you made.
You pushed gently on his chest, urging him to lay down, which he did happily, holding your hand as he laid on his back.
You peppered kisses down his neck to his chest, biting at his firm chest muscles and kissing down his toned abs, making your way to his erection.
"I've learned some skills as well," you teased, pressing kisses up the side of his length, placing a final kiss to the tip.
He groaned softly, smiling down at you, "oh really? I'd love to see that," he whispered encouragingly.
You opened your mouth slowly and lowered down, taking him all the way into your mouth. He moaned softly, tilting his head back and biting his lip as his fingers tangled in your hair.
You swirled your tongue around him, using the tips of your fingers to stroke the base, glancing up to watch the way his body reacted to your movements.
His lips were parted, his eyes shut. As his breathing grew ragged he smiled softly, letting his head fall back against the pillows as you pleasured him.
You hummed, bobbing up and down along his shaft, savoring the sweet sounds that left his throat.
He began to tug on your hair, taking handfuls as you quickened the pace, licking and sucking enthusiastically, slurping as you sucked on the tip.
You released his cock with a pop, stroking and pumping him in your hand, using your spit to keep it slick. You traced your thumb over the head, tapping him against your tongue.
He moaned softly, gripping the headboard with his free hand, slowly bucking his hips.
You took him in again, one final time, swirling your tongue, bobbing and sucking, pushing him all the way down your throat.
He let out a long, sexy groan as he reached his peak. "Yes, darling, yes... just like that...I'm-" he grunted, before spilling over your tongue with a deep, guttural moan.
You swallowed, licking and sucking him, milking him completely before pulling off. He stared down at you, his face was clenched and contorted, an expression of pure pleasure painted across his features. Then he sat up slowly pulling you against him in a messy kiss.
"How was that?" You asked softly against his lips.
He grinned against your mouth and kissed you again, cradling your face. "I don't think there are words that could describe...," he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, his eyes lidded, still high on his climax. "How much I love you," he whispered against your lips.
"I bet you say that to every girl that has given you good head," you teased.
He furrowed his brow, watching your little grin. "Do you think I use that word lightly?... I love you, only you...," he pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes.
You ran your fingers through his hair, studying his features as you smiled.
"I love you too, Elijah," you whispered, pressing a slow, caring kiss to his lips.
You found yourself suddenly overwhelmed with love, with the memory of all the lost time you had missed with him. Tears formed in your eyes as you kissed him, causing him to break the kiss.
He studied your expression with worry. "What's the matter?" He asked softly.
"I don't want to miss another day," you replied, brushing away your tears, a goofy smile across your face.
He smiled at you with a chuckle. "Well, darling, we just have one thousand years of catching up to do," he said softly, wiping away your tears. "Not to mention all the other days to come after,"
You let out a little laugh as he pulled you into his arms, his strong hands roaming over your curves as he flipped you back underneath him.
"I can't wait," you said breathlessly, pulling him down for a passionate kiss.
Elijah smiled against your lips and kept one hand at your waist as he dragged the tip of his cock over your pussy, drenched from the pleasure and anticipation. He eased in slowly, sinking inside your warm center and muffling a groan against your neck. You let out a soft sigh, feeling so complete now that you were finally connected.
He lifted his head and gazed into your eyes, placing a hand against your cheek as he started to thrust slowly. He was quiet as he rolled his hips, his gaze flickering between watching his cock slowly sliding in and out of you, covered in your wetness, and you, biting your lip, your eyes squeezed shut as he filled you.
You moaned at his size, already sensitive from your last orgasm, the stretch felt amazing, your nails digging into his firm muscles. His large hands were clutched around your hips, steadying you as he fucked you in a slow, gentle pace.
"Listen to you," he grinned, "making such beautiful sounds for me," he praised, nipping at your ear.
His words went straight to your core as your breathing grew raspy, squeezing his cock so tightly that you pushed him out of you, moaning quietly.
"Mmm," he bit his lip, tapping his cock against your clit and then ran it back and forth over your wetness, admiring the view before guiding his cock back into you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked softly, dropping a kiss to your forehead.
You shook your head, your eyes still shut. "No, you are just...very well-endowed, that's all," you giggled..
He rocked inside you for a moment, his hands gripping your hips. "Should I stop?" He whispered.
"Don't you dare stop, you owe me one thousand years of this," you cupped his cheek, pulling his face to yours, pressing your lips together.
"Who am I to deny you?" He kissed you slowly, his tongue danced with yours as he found his rhythm again, thrusting deep, his hands holding your thighs open.
He bit your lip and gazed at you, still not totally believing the vision of beauty beneath him.
The pure sexual lust that had built up between you paired with the overflowing love you felt for each other, made everything more intense. Your orgasms building, the clench around his length, the grip of your hands on his muscles. It felt like time had stopped for you both, existing only in the carnal moment you were sharing.
He moaned as you tightened around him, pushing your knees up to your waist to deepen his thrust. He trailed one hand down your soft skin and ran a thumb over your swollen clit, rubbing it in slow, tender circles.
You gasped and whimpered out his name, you were so sensitive and yet were so close to tumbling over again, "please, don't stop," you whispered urgently, a pleading look in your eyes.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and continued rubbing your clit, rolling his hips, giving you long, passionate strokes.
"That's it, that's it," he whispered through grunts. "Just like that, my darling," he breathed, lowering down to kiss you.
The love you made was passionate and sweet, soft and timid. It felt like it was all meant to be, pure, passionate love, made only for each other.
He used all his willpower to hold back his own, wanting to feel you release around him. Your body slowly stiffened, squeezing around his length, making him moan deeply. He didn't stop moving, encouraging you with gentle words in your ear and kisses to your cheek.
He couldn't hold on any longer, feeling you twitch, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as you reached your peak. A quiet, guttural groan rumbled deep in his chest as he spilled his warm cum inside you.
He pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed heavily, whispering sweet praises and confessions as you both held one another, sharing small and gentle kisses.
He rolled on to his side, bringing you with him, keeping you connected and moving your thigh over his hip to bury himself deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go of the feeling of being joined.
He snaked one arm behind your back to draw you even closer, and reached the other up to brush your hair out of your face. He kissed you deeply and ran his fingertips over your soft skin, moving them up and down your back as you looked into one another's eyes.
"That was..." you sighed happily.
"Yeah..." He smiled softly and let his eyes wander over your features, as if trying to sear it into his brain.
"I can't believe we waited so long to do this," you whispered, stroking your hands up and down his arms.
"Our days of waiting are over," he smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. His mouth on yours, swallowing your little moans, his fingers stroking your sides, both of you completely consumed by the other.
The room was dimly lit, candle flames casting a warm glow around you. Time finally gave you a break, let you have this moment you both were longing for all these years.
He loved you. You loved him, and now you were finally together. After one thousand years, it was well worth the wait.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡
♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe
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miss-conner3 · 8 months ago
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This is a bit of a silly what if question,
But what it be like if ando and the lamb swapped roles (whether it be as an au (where like ando became a cult leader and the lamb died) or if they just randomly decided to swap each other clothing for a day as a joke).
I'm surprised and happy to receive this question (OwO)
Lucky for you, I'm two steps ahead of you (>v<)/
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By February of this year, I had already started thinking about what would happen if my two sheep swapped places. I even gave it the name “The Hard Way,” where Ando is forced to wear the red crown after refusing to be the lamb of the prophecy, imposed by The One Who Waits, upon understanding that everything he suffered was due to a family dispute.
This begins a hate relationship between Ando and The One Who Waits, with the obvious ending that he would betray him for denying him the eternal rest that his soul longed for. There was no subtlety here, and Narinder knew that.
Therefore, he was ready.
And still, he lost.
This AU is a bit sad, as Ando got so lost in his anger that when he gained control, he found himself at a dead end, unable to die as it was now death itself, and with the awareness that to give up the crown, he would have to choose another candidate and he... was not willing to impose this responsibility on anyone.
So he eventually went crazy and ended up destroying his world, giving in to the delirium that only then he could rest.
That ending was based almost entirely on my playthrough, where I decided to play as Ando in hard mode and encountered a new type of difficulty that changed the way I play and manage the cult. ¿The result?
I got a morally dubious and emotionally stunted Ando, whose interpersonal relationships ranged from his first husband, whom he cheated on twice (not intentionally), his beloved little brother (who hooked up with half a bishop XD), and a punching bag (Narinder), who dared to tell him that he loved him in front of his first husband. Obviously, on purpose.
So…yeah.
I may have thought a little about “¿What if…?”, with my lamb and Ando swapping roles XP
As for exchanging clothes <(ouo)>
I feel like the lamb could get away with that joke if Ando was willing to swap his clothes because, as you can imagine, he's too embarrassed to wear just the fleece XD
Although I think I could draw that, ¡thanks for the idea!
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heebambilee · 29 days ago
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Seeing this rumors about Jay and Jungwon it does break my heart a little when I think of the possibility of they being true (the dating rumors), but I totally get that it's someone's own life, they can do whatever they want and date whoever they want, they're already giving their all for our entertainment so the bare minimum is to let them be. No money compensates for the fact that each of them gave up living a full adolescence like any other ordinary person, they gave up the right of their privacy even if they have the right to keep their privacy (cause all of us humans have that right) no money compensates for the emotional damage they have suffered all these years with some ridiculous accusations, after so much effort they deserve to enjoy what they have and what they have achieved, they deserve to find their happiness and it is only up to them if they want to share it with their fans.
I believe that the duty of a fan is to support them during the bad and the good, to support them with their projects and with the decisions they make for their lives (it depends if those decisions involve shady things or things like that, that is where a fan should sit and think about it on their own) without expecting anything in return, if you are one of those fans who expect something from them in return more than a "thank you, i love you"..what the hell are you doing? They gave up a normal life for their dream and you're getting entertainment from them they're not sealing their souls for you to think you own them, it's your decision if you want to spend money on them or not, but they don't owe you anything more than their eternal love and gratitude.
I think many take advantage of the fact that they are public people to take data and photos of them that should not be published because after all they deserve some privacy and time alone with whoever they want to spend it with. Anyway,I think it's time for some "fans", who believe they have the right to ask for explanations from someone who doesn't know you AT ALL, sit in a chair and look around, are you in your bed? look around you..that is YOUR reality..that is YOUR life and you are living it the way you want..go outside, connect with the people around you, visit your own friends or loved ones, look the sun or the moon and enjoy your life. Connect with your reality and realize that for them you are just a fan, an unknown person that they may have never seen in their life, of course they are grateful for your efforts to make them happy and make their dreams come true, but don't expect anything more in return... don't expect loyalty from a person who doesn't owe you anything... go out and fall in love, do you think your idols will care if you get in a relationship? spoiler: they don't care. If you can go out and kiss whoever you want, flirt with whoever you want, see whoever you want and do whatever you want...why can't they? Will you stop living your life the way you want just because a stranger tells you not to? no, right? then wake up... wake up in your reality and get out of your head that one day you are going to meet them and they are going to fall in love with you cause it's not going to happen, life does not work like that... of course you can dream of one day meeting them in person (that is my dream and I hope that everyone who has that same dream can fulfill it) and tell them that you live them and all of that but do not cross the limits... do not create in your mind scenarios that you know are not very possible because at the end of the day you are hurting yourself. I know that enhypen is a safe place for many and that it disconnects them a little from their harsh realities and that's fine, but when you start thinking like those types of people, that's when you should step aside and get worried.
So take a big breath and connect with your reality, focus on your life and let others live their realities the way they want. Follow your own dreams and do your best to meet your own goals and expectations. Take the hard work, effort and dedication of each one of the members of Enhypen as inspiration to live your life and to fight for what you want for you. You don't owe anything to anyone and your idols do not owe you anything beyond what they can and want to give you in gratitude. Don't expect any kind of "special" treatment for spending your own money on things that you yourself decide to buy/spend on, they don't force you to do anything so don't think you have the right to demand anything from them.
Anyway, this is also something I write for myself, to reflect and get rid of that feeling that my heart is broken, something I write from my brain to my heart to realize that it's a silly thing to feel this way. Whether these rumors were true or not, nothing will change the love I have for my 7, I'll continue supporting them in my own way and loving each one of them from a distance, hopefully one day I can see/meet them irl and until then I'll try to save money 😭
I love you Jungwon, I love you Jay, I love you enhypen 🤍
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polarisbibliotheque · 8 months ago
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Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader
Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost
Pairing: Vergil x Reader
Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?
TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.
Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.
In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)
Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!
Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News
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Cirice, by Ghost
“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”
It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.
That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.
“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”
As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.
Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.
It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.
None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.
“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.
“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”
“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.
“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.
“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.
“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.
“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”
“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”
As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.
Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.
“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”
“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”
“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”
“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”
“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.
“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”
Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.
“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”
“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.
“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”
“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.
“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.
“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”
“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”
“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.
“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.
“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”
“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”
“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.
“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”
“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.
“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”
“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”
“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”
Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.
And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.
There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.
“Veeeeergil…”
His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.
It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.
Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.
He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.
“Vergil…?”
Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.
“Mother?”
His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.
*
When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.
It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.
Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.
Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.
“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”
“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.
“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”
“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”
“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”
“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”
The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.
“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”
Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.
It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.
“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”
“You are not my mother.”
“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”
With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.
*
There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.
Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.
Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.
It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.
He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.
You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.
You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.
If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.
Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.
And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.
Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.
Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.
For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.
And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.
*
Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.
Blood. You were bleeding.
Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.
Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.
That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.
“You are lost…”
It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.
“You are lost without me…”
“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.
You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.
“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”
“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.
They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.
“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”
You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.
He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.
“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”
“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”
“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”
“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”
“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.
The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.
And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.
You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.
“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”
“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.
The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.
Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.
“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.
“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.
As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.
Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.
You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.
In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.
Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.
And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.
As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.
A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.
His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.
“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.
“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.
“You are lost…! Lost…!”
The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.
He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.
“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”
“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.
As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.
“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.
The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.
Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.
“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”
“Neither am I of you.”
His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.
I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you
*
*
*
*
“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”
Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.
Probably both.
The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.
The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.
You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.
Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.
So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.
And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.
“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.
“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.
“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”
“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”
No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.
Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.
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