#and like. that's how i felt as a child about masculinity

[harryspet]

homestead [4] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, DUBCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.6k

In which you can't escape from your inner turmoil, even in your dreams.

homestead masterlist

Tending to the entire house was hard work. You thought you’d be bored sooner than you actually ended up. It seemed there was always more to do with all the cooking you were doing and the laundry that Rafe went through. Sometimes, you imagined adding the demands of feeding a newborn every few hours or chasing a toddler around to your already packed routine. The thought was daunting, but you had signed up for it, knowing it would be difficult yet now you were relieved you wouldn’t be financially struggling through it.

Your growing belly had started to interfere with your daily chores. It was harder to breathe when you exerted yourself, and frequent trips to the bathroom were now the norm. Rafe never complained when the house wasn't perfect, but you knew it was because he was trying to regain your trust after losing control in the nursery. He wanted you to come to him willingly, but you weren’t mentally ready for that. When Rafe did touch you, he restrained his darker impulses, and while you never enthusiastically said “yes,” you found yourself denying him less and less.

When Rafe started leaving his bedroom unlocked, you knew it was safe to start cleaning it. You mostly used this time to snoop around. You weren’t sure what contact he kept with the outside world. He made sure you weren’t privy to the details of his business, and he never called his family when you were around. 

His room was like yours in many ways, yet distinctly different. You felt a more masculine presence than the rest of the farmhouse. The walls were a deep charcoal gray, and the bed had a thick, woolen blanket that looked inviting enough, but the large wooden bed frame was imposing. Heavy, dark curtains framed the windows on either side of the bed, and there was a seating area on one side of the room with a leather armchair next to a couple of shelves containing a few trinkets and books. Rafe’s closet contained your most considerable curiosity, a substantial black safe. 

The way Rafe opened the house to you was purposeful, he wanted you to feel welcome here, but he couldn’t deny he had secrets. You knew at least a few of those secrets were inside that safe. 

Every time you went inside the closet to put away Rafe’s laundry or organize his clothes, you thought about the years that had passed and everything you didn’t know about him. You were in one of those moments, standing in Rafe’s closet, when you heard the shower start in the connecting room. Rafe had appeared from an afternoon in the fields. You weren’t sure if he hadn’t realized you were there, but he’d already started undressing, his chiseled frame glistening with sweat and dirt. 

“Hey,” You whispered, not wanting to startle him, but he was already grinning at the sight of you.

“Hey, Honey,” He started to undo his belt, and you felt trapped, most of his figure blocking the view of the bathroom doorway, “How you doing?”

You shrugged like you usually did, “Fine, I was just …hanging up your dress shirts.”

“Nice,” He slid off his pants, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t avert your eyes; maybe because you felt yourself starved from any other human connection expect Rafe’s, “I’ll be gone for longer than usual tomorrow.”

“Cameron Development business?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny, “You mind picking out my clothes? You have a better eye for colors and stuff, you know?”

“Sure,” You took that as your opportunity to stop staring at the figure that seemed to be growing even more pristine as the manual labor toned his muscles. You resented it slightly, feeling less and less like yourself as your child grew inside of you. 

The closet was a strange mix of outdoor clothing and high-end suits, a signal of the true duality of Rafe’s life. Thanks to you, it was more organized now, and you spent time scanning the rows of clothes. You chose a tailored navy suit, thinking of his muscular build and the deep blue of his eyes. You paired it with a crisp, white dress shirt and a tie with a subtle, sophisticated pattern of navy and silver. Completing the look, you picked out his polished, black leather dress shoes and matching belt. 

You hadn’t realized just how much time you spent mulling it over. As soon as you laid it out on top of the closet’s chaise lounge chair, Rafe stood beside you with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m impressed,” He said, leaning over to peck your cheek. 

“Thanks.”

“Stay with me in my room tonight,” Rafe said, his fingers trailing down from your shoulder to your arm. He moved in closer, leaning down to kiss below your ear, “Missed you all day.”

“Rafe,” You sighed as he placed a kiss lower on your neck. In saying his name, you said a million different things. It was a warning that you might resist, that you loved his touch but hated how much you did. 

“I gave you your own space because of your …condition. But after the baby comes, this is going to become our room. I want you to get comfortable here.”

Again, it felt like he was asking the world of you. You imagined laying next to him night after night and him rolling over, taking what he wanted from you anytime he liked. When you thought about it for a moment longer, it wasn’t much different than how things were now. 

“I…I wanted to ask you something,” You placed a hand on his chest and he placed his larger one over yours.

“Yeah?”

“Now that I’m in my third trimester, I’ve been thinking more about, you know, giving birth,” You found it hard to meet his eyes, but you did your best, especially as they started to narrow at you, “With me being here, I guess I don’t know what my plan is anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Honey,” Rafe said, “You think I don’t have a plan?”

“I didn’t know how far we were from the hospital-”

You felt his heart quicken underneath your touch, “A hospital is like, not even Plan C, it’s Plan E. You’ll do it here. People do home births all the time.”

Your face fell quickly, and you pulled your hand from him, “You’re not serious.”

“I’ve been doing my research. As long as we have the proper people involved and the right equipment, it can work!”

“It’s my first pregnancy, Rafe! I want a real hospital with lots of nurses and a real doctor. I want an epidural, and I want my baby to have immediate medical care if he needs it. You’re crazy!”

“It’s not happening.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cursed, your temper flaring. He grabbed your wrist, keeping you from stepping away, “Get away from me!”

“Calm down,” Rafe grabbed both of your arms, pinning you in front of him, “This is why I didn’t fucking bring it up.”

“Let go of me,” You gritted your teeth, “Please.”

“You have to trust me. I can handle this.”

“I don’t want you … I don’t want just you to handle everything,” you replied, trying to find your calm, knowing you might set him off pretty soon. “Please, just—we have to be able to discuss this more. If you need reassurance that I won’t run or tell anyone what happened, then I will do whatever. I care about the baby more than myself.”

“I wouldn’t put you or the baby in harm's way.”

“I know,” you lied.

“Then don’t imply that I would.”

 “Can you just be open-minded about this?”

His eyes held a lot of emotions, but he nodded. As if each of you were frightened of escalating each other further, you pulled away from each other. 

“I want to sleep in my bed; I toss and turn so much, and my pillow-”

“Go ahead, I don’t give a shit,” Rafe crossed his arms, giving in so quickly that your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t waste the opportunity, scurrying off as quickly as your legs would take you. 

You didn’t see Rafe for the rest of that night and were grateful he wasn’t around the next day, either. 

“I like the name Kai,” you said, looking up, your head resting on top of someone’s warm lap, feeling the sun for the first time in a long time. “It means sea in Hawaiian. If they grow up here, they have to like the ocean.”

“I was thinking something edgier,” you heard JJ say, his gaze also moving toward the beautiful sky above. Lush, rolling fields surrounding you, “Maybe like Talon or Blaze? Something cool so, you know, the other kids don’t pick on ‘em.”

“No way,” She shook your head, giggling, “That is exactly the type of kid someone would pick on.”

“Fine …Kai. I don’t dislike it,” JJ seemed to ponder the name longer,.

You sat up from his lap, finally gazing at your handsome boyfriend. “I like it. We don’t have to pick one now, but … I’m just saying.” 

The two of you were sitting on top of a plaid blanket you didn’t recognize, and you didn’t recognize what part of The Cut you were in, either. JJ must’ve surprised you for a date. A cheap picnic was always up his aisle, and you never cared for fancy dates. 

“I still can’t believe there’s going to be a little Maybank,” you said, reaching out to touch his blonde, windswept hair. “I mean, I already love him. It makes me think my Dad must’ve never felt this way about me.”

He touched your bump, and you felt like you were filled with happiness. Everything was right. Things would be challenging, but at least you’d have each other. 

“My parents, too,” the words were solemn, but you felt the opposite, “It’s their loss.”

Neither of you had the families you deserved, but you could provide that happiness to Kai . . . or whatever name ended up suiting your angel. 

“Picking a name is hard. What if we look at him, and he just doesn’t match the one we chose?” You wondered. 

“Then we change it. He could have no name for all I care. As long as he’s healthy.”

You brought your lips to his and melted into him. Strong arms wrapped around your back as he deepened the kiss further. You were at home. 

When you opened your eyes again, breathless from the kiss, you knew you weren’t home at all. Tears filled JJ’s ocean eyes and the sky turned a darker blue. 

“Have you asked Rafe what he thinks about the baby’s name?”

“Wha-” Your lips parted, the air growing from warm to humid. A storm was brewing above that field of flowers. Now that you glanced around, those flowers were just weeds. 

“You should ask him.”

“Why would I ask Rafe, JJ?”

“Why not? He won. He gets you. He gets the baby.”

“He didn’t win. I just …” It came to you then. JJ never got to feel your pregnant belly. He never knew you were having a boy. How could you feel connected to him from behind the glass in the visiting room? “I-I’m going to figure this out.”

“You’re giving in.”

“I’m not!” You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. 

“You should’ve never let him in.”

“I’m sorry,” You were crying now, “I-I was so lonely, and… you left me!”

He turned his head, and you felt the rain starting to fall, “You’ll forget about me soon enough. He’ll never know me.”

“Please, you have to find us.” The words left your lips just as lightning struck. 

You screamed yourself awake. 

You pushed around the baby potatoes on your plate, sitting across from Rafe at the dinner table. This entire week, you’d been struggling with eating. You felt the baby resting so high that you felt full quicker than expected. It didn’t help that you were facing the reality of giving birth inside this house and possibly never seeing the outside world again. 

You wanted nothing more than to meet your baby, but you felt yourself growing more complacent as your time here and the pregnancy went along. Realistically, how far could you get now that you were this pregnant? And how could you leave with a newborn?

“Is the baby moving a lot?” Rafe brought a piece of steak to his mouth, watching you intently as you played with your food. 

“Yeah … a little too much.”

“Hey, an active baby is a healthy one.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, “You read that in one of your parenting books?”

He winked at you, “Yes, I did.”

“I’m glad you know everything now.”

“You’d know more if you spent some of your free time reading. You haven’t touched a single one.”

“I’m exhausted lately, but thanks.”

Rafe nodded, “Well, makes sense; your body is changing so much. I should stay home more so I can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” You said quickly. 

His fork and knife clanged against his plate as he placed them down. He leaned forward, eyes gazing sharply at you, “What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Rafe, don’t,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes now. 

“I’m serious …did I do something? Things have been going good.”

You went silent, “Can I be excused?”

“You cannot,” his fist slammed down on the table, making you jump. “I had our whole night planned out, starting with dinner. So you’ll finish dinner with me, we will go on a walk, and then stay in my bed tonight.”

“I don’t feel-”

“I don’t care. I don’t ask too much of you,” Rafe interrupted, “If you can act a little bit more pleasant, I’ll still give you the surprise I was planning.”

“A surprise?”

“You’re going to regret acting like a brat when you see it.” 

Your mouth parted in shock, but his deadly look had you crossing your arms and sitting back silently in your chair. 

Rafe’s hands were intertwined with yours as you walked down an unfamiliar winding path. Cicadas had begun chirping, and the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the property. This was only the third time you’d physically left the house, Rafe allowing you earlier in your pregnancy to follow him around to meet all of the animals. 

Now, due to your swollen feet, you didn’t fit into the work overalls Rafe purchased for you or the boots. You walked in silence for the most part, imagining that Rafe was stewing with anger after your behavior at dinner. You cared little that you’d upset him; your mind was focused on repressing the nightmares you’d be having about JJ. 

After a few minutes, you arrived at a small, fenced-in area near one of the barns. Your curiosity was piqued when you saw a little pen set up in the middle of the grassy area. Inside was a bundle of fur that wiggled and barked excitedly as you approached. 

“C’mere, Honey,” He pulled you closer to the pin. The small dog was a golden brown color with long, shaggy ears, and you noticed a red gift bow tied around its neck. 

“A puppy?” You asked, leaning forward. The puppy stood up on its hind legs, and bounded over the pen's edge, tail wagging furiously. 

“She’s cute, right?” Rafe scooped the puppy quickly into its arms. 

“You bought a puppy,” you couldn’t help yourself, starting to pet its soft fur as Rafe held her close. “This is the surprise?”

“Part of it,” Rafe smiled, “You could use more company.” 

You couldn’t help but notice that your lips started to pull into a smile as the puppy tilted its head closer to you, licking at your cheek, “Oh … look at her,” You said, your heart swelling. Rafe had successfully subverted your expectations. Who were you to deny the cutest animal you’d ever seen? You should welcome any happiness your new world wanted to bring you, no matter how much regret JJ made you feel in your dreams, “You didn’t have to…”

“I want you to have her. She’s a cocker spaniel. Guy who sold her to me said they’re good with kids.” 

“I love her,” You spoke honestly, scratching behind her ears. 

“Look at her collar,” He gave you a suspicious look.

“Why?”

“Just look,” You hesitated but couldn’t imagine him playing a trick on you right now. 

After spinning the tiny collar around her neck, you found the second part of your surprise. Hanging on its collar was a ring with a gold band an a huge, oval-shaped diamond. You inspected it closer, not meeting Rafe’s eyes. Your heart was beating way too fast to look at him. You knew little about engagement rings, but you knew what you were looking at would be considered top-tier. 

“Here,” he said, placing the puppy back down in the pin and maneuvering its collar to free the ring. He held it out to you, and as you stood there, frozen, he took your hand. You didn’t pull away as he eased it onto your left ring finger, “I know we can’t have a traditional ceremony, but I just thought you might think this was special.”

Your lips parted, but Rafe shushed you, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Rafe’s eyes searched yours, waiting for any sign of acceptance. You looked down, the diamond catching the light of the setting sun.

“Let’s bring her inside,” Rafe suggested after a long moment. You nodded, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before lifting the puppy again. 

Rafe led you back to the house, and his words echoed in your head. What had he done to deserve your attitude? Things were going well. In exchange for caring for the house, you relax in a comfortable environment where your baby can grow peacefully. He’d bought you a gorgeous ring and a puppy to discourage your loneliness. Maybe you were just wholly ungrateful. 

You helped Rafe set up an area for her in the living room.

“She’s gonna need a name.”

“What do you think?” You asked him quietly. 

You resisted the idea of naming your baby without JJ, but maybe you could share this intimate, normal thing with Rafe. 

He propped his fist underneath his chin, thinking, and stared down at the dog, “Are you opposed to a human name?”

“I’m not opposed to anything.”

He seemed a bit surprised by your reaction, but he continued his thinking pose. 

“She’s gonna be really sweet, I can already tell. To me, she looks like a Lucy or like a Molly.”

“Molly is cute. Classic sounding,” You nodded, leaning down to pet her, “You’re so adorable. You need wittle pink hairbows, don’t you, Molly?” 

You heard him chuckle at your high-pitched tone, “It’s settled then. Welcome to the family, Molly.”

As the evening progressed and after you got plenty of puppy cuddles, Rafe escorted you upstairs. The atmosphere was different than the last time you were together there. It was softer and more intimate. He helped you out of your clothes, gentle and considerate of your bump. You didn’t let yourself overthink any longer for the night. 

Your body was so much different from when he first brought you here, yet Rafe’s eyes were hungrier than ever. You couldn’t feel vulnerable for too long because soon he was naked too and pressed against you. The touching, soothing words in your ear and the gentle hands on your belly were almost too much. 

When the time came, Rafe guided you on top of him. He kept you steady, supporting your body with his strong hands as you straddled his lap. That night, you controlled the pace, and the position allowed you to ease the discomfort your belly caused. He watched you like a fine painting hanging in a museum, and his hands never left your hips. 

“Take your time,” He grunted huskily, “You’re doing so good, Honey.”

You loved the praise. You basked in his words and his gaze. You wanted to feel like you were doing the right thing, that you would be a good Mom, and Rafe was always there to confirm that. Your head rolled back, lips parting, as your movements became more frantic and rapid. 

You lost your rhythm, the intensity bringing tears to your eyes.

“Good girl, Honey,” As you grew tired, Rafe moved your hips for you. Hands pressing into his thick chest, you whined, feeling him in the deepest parts of you, “Give Daddy all of it.” 

“Fuck, Rafe!” You cursed, shaking, and he groaned in response, “I’m coming.”

He moved your hips faster, the grinding motion sending you over the cliff towards your orgasm. You felt yourself tightening around him, and like a chain reaction, Rafe’s eyes closed tightly as his orgasm came, “Jesus, baby,” Hands still tight on your hips, he finished deep inside of you, but you’d reached the point of overstimulation now. 

You climbed off of him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He caught you in his arms, pressing his body into yours, “Thank you,” You heard him say in your ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the soft sheets beneath you. When you drifted off to sleep, you saw no raging storms, felt no overwhelming guilt, and JJ never appeared. For the first time in a long while, you slept peacefully, cocooned in the safety of Rafe’s love.

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (6/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, injection of a sleeping drug, violence, bad, bad things ]

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

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

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She had felt the closeness of his body all night: his arms locked her in his embrace every time she rolled over on the bed, with a murmur of satisfaction finding with her a new position in which he could snuggle into her.

Although he kept his hand on her bare buttock, desperately wanting to feel her skin, she did not perceive this touch as sexual per se: there was a need for physical affection in him that only another living, warm body could give.

He smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, mint gum and intense, masculine perfume. This combination dulled her and relaxed her making her fall asleep again immediately even when she woke up, his touch, his presence, their bodies entwined together soothed her.

She was sure that in the morning he would wake up horrified by everything that had happened, begging her to go to the pharmacy to get the pill that would prevent any unplanned pregnancy, the effects of their ill-considered excess.

He, however, took her again, more tenderly and slowly, making her feel so good, too good, because, after all, it should feel bad, it should be disgusting, it should hurt.

But it didn't.

She was too wet, he slid into her too easily, he was trying too hard to rub against the spot from which shivers of pleasure ran through her, making her womanhood twitch with convulsions of sweet ecstasy.

She felt remorse for not standing up to him, for opening her thighs to him twice even though she had promised herself that it would never happen, that it was just her hideous deviation that she would keep to herself forever.

"Are you taking pills?" He asked when it was all over, and she froze, snapped out of her reverie.

"No." She muttered, knowing what he meant, what he was going to say.

She felt like vomiting at the thought.

He surprised her when his lips placed a warm, gentle kiss on her cheek.

"It's your body. But know that I'd like to be the father of your child. Someday. You decide when. If ever." He whispered in her ear and she froze completely, shocked.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Someday.

If ever.

How could he say something like that?

She felt a twinge of regret towards herself that something in his words brought her a strange relief.

He couldn't be her boyfriend, her husband, but he could be the father of her children.

"I…I don't know what I'll do yet. I need to think about it." She mumbled, feeling her heart pounding like crazy, not knowing what she was supposed to respond to his words.

She heard him swallow hard, as if something hurt him in what she said.

"Let me know when you've made your decision about...you know. Please." He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he wanted to know what she was going to do.

Whether or not she would buy the pill in the pharmacy.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that even if she complied with his request, it wouldn't change anything.

"So that you won't answer me?" She asked in a shaky voice, hearing him lift himself on his arm at her words.

"I'll. I swear I'll. Hey. Hey, look at me." He said, but she didn't believe him, because she knew he would hurt her again.

They were destined to do so.

It was just a pleasant dream, nothing more.

"I mean it. I swear. I…" He didn't get to finish because they both flinched and pulled away from each other, terrified when they heard a loud banging on her door.

"Open up." Daemon called out and they both stood up as if burned, dressing quickly.

"Wait a minute!" She said, handing him his shoes and jacket.

"Go to the toilet." She whispered to him, running quickly to the door herself when she heard him lock himself in the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

She swallowed loudly, trying to control her panic and opened it, looking at her step-father with big eyes. She opened her mouth, but he spoke up first.

"Get changed, we're leaving immediately." He said dryly, looking her over from top to bottom, his brow furrowed.

Did she overlook something?

Could he see what she had just done?

"But why so sudden? I'd like to have breakfast. Has something happened?" She muttered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Viserys is dead." He said, and she froze, feeling her heart stuck in her throat.

With a remnant of her strong will she held herself up from looking behind her, towards the toilet.

God, he'd definitely heard that.

"– what? – but –"

"They called the ambulance, Alicent found him dead in his bed. Who was banging on your door last night?" He asked, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

She couldn't lie, she had to think of something.

"Aemond. We talked about the past." She whispered, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to leave it alone.

"Is he here?" He asked coldly, stepping inside, looking around the room. His step headed towards the toilet, and she stood in his way.

"Y-yes. He was drunk and fell asleep on the floor. You scared me, we didn't know what to do." She muttered, feeling burning tears of shame and horror under her eyelids, the fear that squeezed her lungs made her breathe with difficulty.

One more time, just this one more time let me lie, she thought.

Please, this one more time.

"Get out of there. Now." He directed his words towards the door, which opened a moment later.

Her uncle came out of there pale, trembling all over, though she had no idea whether from fear or because of what he had heard.

"Go to your mother. She needs you now. Your older brother is completely drunk." Her step-father said, and her uncle passed them without a word and left, not even bestowing a single glance on them.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, clenching her thighs together, feeling his semen begin to flow down her leg.

She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into sobs and to keep up appearances that nothing had happened.

When Daemon's hand touched her head and pulled her to him, making her hit his chest, when his arms closed her in a secure embrace, she burst out into a loud, miserable cry.

She was pathetic, she was dirty, she was worthless, a simple whore, a vessel for his seed.

He did what he wanted with her, and she allowed him to.

"We'll go to the pharmacy. We'll sort it out. Don't worry." He said, and she felt both gratitude and horror at his words.

We'll sort it out.

He knew.

Her distraught mother went with Alicent and her siblings, and she, Daemon and her brothers were to return home together. On her way out of the building she spotted her uncle smoking a cigarette, his gaze blank and absent, directed somewhere in the distance.

He heard their footsteps and turned, meeting her gaze – the way he lowered his head in shame, looking away made her feel tears under her eyelids.

Of course it had ended like that.

It was just a dream, nothing more.

"We'll stop at the pharmacy on the way. Your sister is feeling unwell." Communicated Daemon as they set off, driving out of the car park.

She looked at her uncle again through the window and saw that he was looking at her, his eyebrows arched in pain, his lips parted, as if he regretted letting her go without saying goodbye.

She swallowed hard, resting her forehead against the glass, unable to focus on Jace's or Luke's questions, fearing what would now happen to their grandfather's business.

That's what everyone was wondering now, she thought.

As they drove down to the shopping arcade near their house, Daemon stopped in the parking lot and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Are you going to manage on your own or should I come with you?" He asked, and she felt her heart squeeze with pain.

She was afraid.

"Can you come with me?" She muttered, feeling tear after tear begin to run down her cheeks. Jace touched her shoulder, terrified.

"Do you feel that bad? Did you poison yourself with something?" He asked and she nodded, looking straight into her step-father's eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I poisoned myself with something very badly."

The experience of walking into a pharmacy with her step-father to buy a morning-after pill was one of the strangest and most uncomfortable things she had experienced in her life.

The lady pharmacist looked at Daemon grimly, as if she assumed he was responsible for all the fuss, putting her into a state of utter embarrassment.

Even though she tried to stand up to him, Daemon paid up and told her to hide the pack in her backpack as soon as they walked out of there.

"Read the leaflet carefully. Do everything as it says."

"I know." She muttered, for some reason bursting out crying again, wiping her reddened cheeks with her hand, trying not to think about the curious stares of other people around them.

"Everything has consequences. It will be fine. Don't worry. I won't say anything to your mother." He said, and she nodded.

It was the right thing to do, the logical thing to do, the safe thing to do.

This was the right thing to do.

When they got home, she went upstairs to her room and locked herself in, saying she wanted to take a shower. Daemon and her brothers were waiting for a call from her mother, and her stepsisters were in classes, so she had apparent peace and quiet.

For now.

She sat down on her bed and pulled a small packet with one pill inside from her backpack. She unrolled the leaflet and started to read, but couldn't concentrate.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Why did he say that?

Did he want to have a clear conscience?

She swallowed hard, burying her face in her hands, not understanding why she had doubts.

After all, she was so young, still going to university. How would she explain her pregnancy? What would she tell her mother? That it was casual unprotected sex with a stranger, that she could have taken the morning-after pill but was an idiot?

She wanted to call him, to talk to him, but immediately afterwards she thought that he would tell her anything so that he himself would not feel remorse, the end result being that she would be left with a swollen belly, grief and humiliation alone.

She pressed her lips together and took the tablet out of the packet, grabbing for the bottle of water standing on her bedside table and hesitated, wanting to put it into her mouth.

Yes.

No.

I don't want to.

But it's the right thing to do.

I don't want to.

But I can't do it alone.

I don't want to.

I could love this child.

I have always wanted to be a mother.

I'm scared.

No one will understand.

I don't want to.

She closed her eyes, stood up, went into her bathroom and threw the pill into the toilet, flushing it down, letting it flow along with her certainty that what she had done would have no consequences.

It will be what is meant to be, she thought, sitting down with no strength on the cold tiles, feeling an emptiness in her heart.

When Daemon asked her if she had done the right thing she said yes.

She wasn't sure if he believed her or not, but he stroked her head anyway before walking out and leaving her alone.

By the time their mother got home it was late in the evening: from what she had managed to overhear it appeared that Viserys was really dead, that he had died in his sleep, that he had not suffered and that she was to go to the notary in two days' time to hear his last will.

That was what everyone was worried about.

What share of the estate would go to whom.

She shuddered, feeling the vibration of her phone in her hand, and froze when she looked at the display.

Aemond.

He was calling her.

She swallowed hard, locking herself immediately in her room, panicked, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She answered the call and put the phone to her ear, hearing a noise on the other end, as if someone was driving a car.

"Yes?"

She heard him grunt, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.

"How are you?"

What kind of question was that?

What was she supposed to answer that?

It was great sex, uncle, maybe we'll be parents soon?

"I don't know." She said, walking closer to the window, not wanting anyone in the corridor to hear that she was on the phone.

She heard him swallow hard, feeling involuntarily how difficult it was for him.

Why was she making excuses for him so easily?

"Did you…go to the pharmacy?" He asked finally.

"Yes."

"And?"

"No."

There was silence on the other side for a moment.

"No, what?"

"I wasn't able to do it. I don't expect anything from you." She said in a trembling voice. "I'll manage on my own. If it turns out that…"

She didn't finish, preferring not to say it out loud.

She heard the sound of the key turning on the other side and the silence indicating that he had turned off the engine.

"I want this. If it's going to happen. I want to be a part of it."

"It sounds right only in your head."

"No. I mean it."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wanting to tell him first that she didn't need his pity, but reminded herself after a moment that this was the day his father had died.

She sighed quietly, looking out the window at the courtyard of her house.

"And you? How do you feel? With everything that's happened."

"Depends on what you ask." He replied, but his tone of voice changed, becoming cool again.

"About your father."

"We knew he was seriously ill. That this was probably his last birthday."

They were quiet for a moment, however there was something warm in that silence, some kind of understanding and comfort.

"You said you didn't regret it." He said finally, and she drew in a loud breath at the memory of what they had done.

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

She was sad, bitter, disappointed, but did she regret it?

No.

"I still think so. But I didn't get my hopes up about anything, if that's what you're aiming for. Daemon won't tell anyone about this. He won't…"

"Why was it so right?"

She froze, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at his question.

"Since it was wrong. So fucking wrong." He continued, as if his darkest, most disturbing thoughts were pouring out of him. "Then why it was so pleasant?"

"The forbidden fruit tempts most." She whispered.

She heard him swallow loudly, drawing in air deeply, as if something in her words pained him.

"Is that what it was for you?"

"I don't know. And for you?" She asked angrily, not understanding what he wanted to hear from her after so many years of silence, after he had come to her room in the middle of the night without a word of explanation and fucked her like there was going to be no tomorrow.

"I wanted…nevermind." He hissed.

"No. Say it." She demanded, hearing him twist in his seat.

"For eight years you pretended I didn't exist, I deserve this." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat so strong that she ran out of breath.

Don't hang up, please don't hang up.

"I want to try." He said at last, so quietly and uncertainly that she barely heard him.

"I don't understand."

"I would like to study archaeology. You wrote me that if I asked you to, you would help me get into university." He mumbled like a small, embarrassed child, startling her completely.

What?

"I…well, but…there are only two months left to submit the documents. What day is today? Thursday. Are you thinking about full-time or part-time studies?" She asked, walking over to her calendar, trying to count in her head how much time they had.

God, there was a desire in him to change something.

She knew that if she discouraged him, she might soon find out that someone had shot him in the head.

"Only part-time classes are an option." He replied finally. "Is it manageable? Do they have any…requirements?"

"Passed final exams in high school, preferably in history or a language." She explained. "There are also entrance exams, but they are not difficult."

"I had the best result in the history final exam in the whole class." He muttered and she nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

"Good. That's very good, Aemond. It can be done. If you want, come to my University tomorrow, we can talk to my professor about whether a personal teaching plan would come into play if you got in."

"Is there such a thing?"

"Yes, for students who are working at the same time."

"Really?" He asked, a note of hope in his voice that made her heart clench.

"Yes. Text me when you can be there, the professor has class until 3 p.m. Okay?"

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow." She said and hung up, looking at her phone screen in disbelief.

She didn't know why she jumped up and down with happiness, why she believed that things would change, that she would really get him back.

She wanted so badly to know that there was still hope for both of them.

Throughout the next day she feared he would give up and not come.

She thought with horror that he was, after all, a complete stranger to her.

What did she know about him?

Despite her doubts, he finally wrote to her.

How did he know where he was supposed to arrive?

She figured he might have looked it up on the internet and went out to meet him, intending to pick him up from the car park. When she saw his car pull into the driveway she approached him, keeping a safe distance. He got out of the car and automatically reached into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said.

He lowered his hand in a gesture of impatience, furrowing his brow.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She said, and he moved behind her, looking around at the walls of the large, brick, old building from the 19th century.

"Does he know I'm coming?" He asked uncertainly, clearly tense.

People passing him looked at his face, at his scar.

She felt uncomfortable with the thought, angry for some reason that he couldn't just walk down the corridor in peace.

Was it always like this?

In the shop, in the office, in the restaurant, at school?

Everyone looking at him.

"Yes."

When they got there she knocked on the right door. Her professor, Mr Addams, was a hearty, grey-haired, rather short man with big glasses and a short, elegantly trimmed beard. He was a man of great passion and they immediately found a common language through which he began to take her on his private excavations as a help.

In this way, she managed to collect any savings of her own.

"Professor. This is my friend I mentioned to you." She said, glancing over her shoulder, her uncle's face pale and terrified, his healthy eye wide open.

Good God.

Her professor held out his hand to him, and to her relief he showed any social reflexes and shook it.

"My pleasure. Miss Strong spoke of you in all superlatives. Please, let's go to my office." He said, moving briskly down the corridor with a bundle of keys in his hand, and they moved to follow him.

Mr Addams opened the door to the room and invited them inside into a small study with a high window, all lined with wooden panelled walls, an oak bookcases filled to the brim with books, a desk and several chairs all around it.

The professor sat behind the table, sighing heavily, indicating their seats on the opposite side.

"I'm listening." He said, and she looked at her uncle. He gave her a horrified look, convinced apparently that she would do everything for him.

"So. My friend didn't have the opportunity to study because of his job. I was wondering if there would be the possibility of personal teaching plan or part-time study in that case." She said finally. The man raised his eyebrows and scratched his chin.

"Classes can be studied in part-time, but you have to do a lot of practice hours on excavations, as you know, Miss Strong. They are obligatory." He said.

"Yes, but my friend works at night. He could take part in them during the day. Right?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle grunted, tense, not knowing where to look, his fingers clenched into fists.

His face then when Jace took his boxers from him, his loud sobs, his hands clenched into fists as he stood up to his waist in water.

"Yes. Yes, that would be possible." He replied lowly, trailing his fingers along the armrest.

The professor nodded.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." He said and rose, nodding at them.

"Is that it?" Her uncle muttered, looking at her with big eyes, as if he expected to be questioned for hours by this man.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

When they went outside and said goodbye to Mr Addams they stood in awkward silence, not knowing what to do with themselves.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He offered, not looking at her but somewhere to the side, pretending to read something interesting on a poster hanging on the wall.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She replied.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned under his breath.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He sneered, making her feel an unpleasant sting in her heart.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes."

His expression changed, filled with sudden shame and discomfort. He grunted and scratched his chin, embarrassed.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He added, as if to make amends to her for his ill-considered words.

"Larys Strong." She said, and he looked at her shocked as if he didn't believe she had said that.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

Her uncle stared at her wide-eyed, breathing loudly through his nose, his lips pressed together in a way from which she felt fear and a cold sweat on her back.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed, running his hand over his face, turning his head away, clearly thinking of something she didn't like.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said impatiently. He looked at her, surprised.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He muttered.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?" He asked, and she sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She said finally, giving in, recognising that she had no choice, that whether she wanted to or not, she had to help him get out of this life that was destroying him every day.

She didn't want him to die.

He stood over her and stared at her, his warm breath enveloping the top of her head.

"Can I touch your hand?"

She lifted her gaze to him and met his eyes, one blank, staring dully ahead, the other red with emotion, his full lips parted involuntarily in an accelerated breath.

She held out her hand towards him, and he took his from the pocket of his trousers, grasping her little fingers in his.

There was something frighteningly natural about the way they intertwined, how perfectly they fit together, how right they looked in a tender embrace.

"Walk me out."

And off they went together, walking down the University's sidewalks, holding hands as if they were a couple.

There was something childlike and naïve about it, about how tightly their fingers clasped together, how close the embrace was, how much they needed proof that nothing was over between them.

She thought it was a pathetic attempt to reclaim their lost childhood.

She let go of his hand as they stopped at his car and watched as he got in without a word, only to drive away a moment later without even bestowing a single glance on her.

She spent the rest of the day during class unable to focus on what she was hearing, pondering how she was going to fool Daemon and her mother into thinking she was spending time with someone else while she was actually helping him study.

She concluded, when she saw her stepfather's face behind the wheel and not her mother's, that it might be worth it to just stop lying.

When she got into the passenger side of the car and Daemon set off, she began to speak at once.

"I'm helping Aemond get into University."

Daemon snorted at her words, surprised, frustrated and intrigued all at the same time. She clamped her hands on the fabric of the backpack lying on her lap, dreading his answer.

"Interesting."

Is that all?

"I want to help him prepare for his exams. He has very little time."

"No."

She swallowed hard hearing him say the word coldly and confidently.

"Why?"

Daemon switched on his indicator and turned at the crossroads even though he should have been driving straight, leaving her stunned.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" She muttered, feeling her heart start to pound like crazy with terror.

"You'll see."

They stopped in one of the busiest streets in the city: her stepfather had told her to get off, so she did, moving a moment later right behind him towards one of the pubs.

"Not open yet, mate." Said a tall, stocky man in a black suit stopping him with his hand.

"For me it is. Mate." He scoffed.

The man wanted to say something, but someone from downstairs called out to let them in.

A woman.

They went down the stairs inside: apart from them and the bartender, who was mopping the floor, a beautiful black-haired woman was sitting at one of the tables, bent over a laptop. Seeing her stepfather she stood up and approached them with a smile that was both seductive and disturbing.

Her eyes were unnaturally green.

"Well, well. Fucking Alys Rivers. The world is small." Daemon said and shook her hand in a gesture as if they had once been partners.

"What brings you here?" She asked softly, directing the gaze of her bright eyes at her, her voice melodious and deep.

The woman examined her figure from top to bottom, as if she had just been looking at something tasty.

"I came to show my step-daughter the brutality of life." He explained, glancing at her over his shoulder with some kind of pride, as if he was just about to teach his son some very manly and important things.

Alys Rivers cocked her head at his words, glancing at her with a look that frightened her.

As if she had heard of her before.

"Oh. I see. Well, I won't disturb you. It was good to see you. Give my regards to your wife." She said and returned to her seat, clicking something on her laptop again.

Daemon moved forward and sat a table at the other end of the room. She sat next to him, tense, and after a moment a man came out of the back room who had not noticed them, walking straight towards the black-haired woman.

It was only when she saw his face that she understood why her stepfather had taken her there.

He had three long scars on the left side of his face.

The man only noticed them when the woman pointed her finger at them. He nodded at them and Daemon reciprocated the gesture, looking at her.

"Guess who left him such a beautiful reminder."

On the way back home, she was silent, because that was also the state of her mind: it was empty. No thought, no feeling, no sound or word flowed through her: images from outside the window flashed before her eyes, as if she were watching a film.

A passive observer of someone else's life.

"Robert wasn't the only one. There are seven others. Most recently Tyland. They were in arrears, and Otto is very much on his word. I worked for him, just like your one-eyed uncle." He said, and she looked at him shocked.

"What?" She muttered.

"I slammed them with a baseball bat until they looked like a red tomato. They had all their facial bones broken. They looked like completely different people afterwards." He said, and she lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort, horror, disbelief.

She rarely thought about what they did to people who didn't pay them on time because she knew that if she started doing it, she wouldn't get a single peaceful night again.

"Your uncle is now his dog. The faithful hound he has raised for himself for eight years. Even if some part of him would like to run away, he knows he cannot bite the hand that feeds him. A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise."

"Don't speak about him like that. As if he wasn't human." She exclaimed in pain, looking at him in disbelief. Daemon shook his head.

"You don't understand. He's brainwashed. He's trapped in his big cage and he thinks he's free. But as soon as he tries to take a step too far, Otto will react and you'll get the message from him that he's not going to university and he'll never see you again. If it was just about fucking, I'd be able to understand it. I also did… reckless things when I was your age, but you get involved, naively mistaking his euphoria at meeting you after eight years for affection that could change anything."

Each successive word from him was like needles that, one by one, drove into her heart, a bucket of cold water that made her begin to quiver, red with shame, sadness and regret.

Some part of her knew he was right.

She closed her eyes, seeing in her mind the face of a man with three scars.

He had done this to him.

How could the hands that touched her so tenderly, so softly, do such a thing?

A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise.

She knew that the comparison her step-father used was cruel and derogatory, but she understood in a way what he was warning her about.

Her uncle was lonely and manipulated by his grandfather, full of complexes and insecurities that made him cling to what was safe and familiar, which if there was too much risk would cause him to withdraw.

She realised that he would never choose her.

What happened between them was pure coincidence, the result of their collision in a place and time beyond their control.

A desperate attempt to connect again.

She spent the rest of the day in the garden, watering the flowers and weeding around them, trying to calm and soothe herself. The sight of them, those beautiful, vibrant colours of their petals gave her pleasure, comfort in a state where she felt she would never experience any other joys in her life again.

The next day her mother and Daemon went to the notary to hear her grandfather's last will. Everyone was tense and sullen from the morning, knowing what it meant.

A war of influence was looming over what Viserys had left behind, pubs, clubs, businesses, more than half of their entire family's source of income.

Jace and Luke were restless, looking out of the windows once in a while, talking loudly about the fact that whatever their mother was getting, Otto would surely want to take from them by force, and they would never agree to that.

"Stop it." She muttered, sighing heavily. Baela, who was sitting next to her, squeezed her hand in hers, sensing her uncertainty.

"They're coming back!" Jace called out as he ran out into the driveway and they followed him, looking with big eyes at Daemon's and his security guards' cars.

Her stepfather stepped out of the car with a broad smile as if he was the winner of some world championship, however, her mother was pale and her face expressed horror.

"Everything. Viserys bequeathed everything to your mother in his will." He said spreading his hands as if he had received a blessing from God himself.

Jace and Luke ran up to him and hugged him as if it was the best day of their lives, but she and her step-sisters felt exactly the same as her mother.

Terror.

Everything.

Her uncles, her aunt, his second wife got nothing.

"How can this be?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

"He left them some big estates by the sea and in the city. I don't give a shit. Tonight we're celebrating, my dears, we're having a banquet!" Daemon exclaimed as he walked into their house, but she approached her mother, who was barely on her feet.

"Mom?" She muttered.

Rhaenyra looked at her and shook her head, following her husband into the house.

She knew what she was thinking about.

Otto will never leave it like this.

"Each of you will have a bodyguard assigned to you from today. We are reinforcing the security of our home, each of us can now be a target. You do not speak to anyone from that part of the family without consulting me or your mother." Said her stepfather, holding a glass of champagne in his hand, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, giving her a protracted, uneasy look.

She lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort in her stomach, having the impression that she had forgotten how to breathe.

Taking advantage of the fact that Daemon was in euphoria and he, along the other men who worked with them had made a party, she went back to her room. She lay down in bed hearing their laughter and loud conversations downstairs, not understanding where their reason for joy came from.

Did they love killing each other so much?

She shuddered as her display lit up – she reached for her phone with her hand and unlocked the screen as soon as she saw that he had texted her.

She swallowed hard, looking around, wondering if she should do this.

Everyone was downstairs, the security guards were drunk.

Maybe she could sneak out?

She knew the code to the gate, maybe no one would notice her if she went out the back door.

Uncertainty, fear and trepidation squeezed her heart, but some part of her wanted to believe that he really cared, that in a situation where all seemed lost he was willing to reach for the one thing that gave him hope.

Today he lost everything, she thought.

Can I take more away from him?

So she packed her books from her first year into her backpack and left the room quietly in her sweatshirt and shorts, not even trying to go for her shoes, heading for the stairs. Apart from one drunk, sleeping security guard and two men talking in the kitchen, she didn't see anyone.

She lay down on the floor and began to crawl forward, feeling like a commando on an important mission, seeing from a distance that they didn't hear her. She rose as she entered the dark hallway and quietly opened the door.

She lifted her gaze up to the camera facing the exit and cursed under her breath, stopping halfway.

She had completely forgotten about it.

What now?

She looked around, trying to remember exactly what the image from the cameras she had seen once looked like when she and Daemon were searching for something on the recordings.

One, two, three, four she started counting and spotted an area she was sure the range of none of the cameras included. She ran in that direction, propped a bucket lying next to her feet and struggled to climb the wall, pulling herself up with a groan of effort, leaping over to the other side, almost breaking her legs.

She hissed, falling onto her hands – when she lifted them she saw that she had scraped her skin there and on her knees.

She sighed heavily, recognising that she would survive such injuries and that they would be nothing compared to what Daemon would do to her if he found out she had escaped.

She'll just give him the books and go back home.

She breathed out loud when she saw his car around the corner, its engine and lights on. He opened the door from his side, looking at her with big eyes, and she quickly pulled off her backpack, giving it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but his hand grasped her wrist.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

She stared at him, panting hard, knowing involuntarily what he wanted, feeling the squeeze between her thighs at the thought that she wanted it too.

Comfort.

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

He closed the door behind her as she let his arm pull her around the waist – she clumsily sat on top of him, trying to make herself comfortable on his lap in such a tight space. She lifted herself up on her knees to slide her shorts off while he looked at her with a misty gaze, unfastening the belt to his trousers.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He breathed out, releasing his erection immediately, throbbing and dripping with desire, ready to give her what she needed.

There was no time for any other kind of caress, so she positioned herself over him, lowering herself slowly onto his thick, smooth tip, feeling how wonderfully he opened her for himself, stretching her warm, moist walls.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, clamping his hands over her firm buttocks, panting and moaning loudly along with her, sliding into her in one, deep thrust.

The feeling of him deep inside her was full of tension, her interior suddenly stretched to the limit on his throbbing erection, which he began to thrust slowly into her with trembling, tentative slaps full of impatience.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, feeling how her slickness helped him to force his way into her body again and again, filling her so wonderfully.

Why it felt so right when it was so wrong?

Her hands embraced his neck, their foreheads touched each other as his palms on her waist forced a quick, sharp, violent pace on her from which her nipples hardened, the pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen caused by him rubbing her where she needed it made her gasp.

"– Aemond –" She mewled, trying to find a rhythm with his body, rolling her hips back and forth, filling herself again and again with his swollen, hot manhood, feeling pleasant, warm tickle in her belly.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, pounding into her with loud, wet slaps of their hips, listening how her twitching cunt clicked with his every push. His hand sank into her hair as his moist lips brushed hers, inviting her into the warm, sticky kiss full of their saliva.

Their tongues licked and teased each other, intensifying their sensation, building a swift path to their fulfilment, their bodies slammed against each other greedily with their embarrassingly loud moans of pleasure.

It seemed to her that they were too ashamed and shocked by the situation, by what they were doing, and how pleasurable it was, how liberating it was, to fuck in his car against everyone and everything, the sticky juices of their forbidden fruit running down their thighs each time his cock sank into her weeping pussy again.

She was terrified that, despite the speed and brutality of his thrusts, his hands caressed her body so tenderly, stroking her hair, her neck, her back, her buttocks, her cheeks, allowing his lips and tongue to join hers in loud, chaotic, wet kisses full of their moans.

She couldn't stop the tension that was growing in her lower abdomen, the pleasant tickling in her fingertips and the clenching deep between her thighs that proved she was about to come.

"– where? –" He mumbled into her mouth, her hands stroking his sweaty, soft cheeks, letting the messy, greedy thrusts of his hips give her the pleasure she so needed, her lips parted wide as the aggressive, stupefying fulfilment full of relief shook her body.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She gasped, feeling only pleasure, only relief, only bliss.

He groaned loudly, helpless, and came hard inside her, throwing his head back, panting heavily along with her. He hugged her face to his sweaty neck, exactly as he had then, that night in the hotel room, his half-hard, pulsing manhood filling her with the remnants of his seed.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, making the sound stuck in her throat with emotion.

She parted her lips, not knowing what to answer him, thinking with embarrassment that she somehow reciprocated his feelings.

His hand slid off her head while the other continued to stroke her bare buttock, his soft erection still throbbing deep inside her as his lips placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– forgive me –"

She only drew in the air loudly, shocked, and clenched her hands on his black T-shirt when she felt the needle jab into her neck. Her squeal of horror, grief, and disbelief sounded unnatural, as if she were a small animal being butchered.

Her body became numb, the image around her became blurred and unclear, a heavy, dark sleep descended on her mind as she simply relaxed in his arms, feeling his hand stroke her head again, his cheek nestled against her forehead all wet.

He cried.

[sarahisslytherin]

duty and honor.

cregan stark x tyrell!reader

summary: it has been decided. you are to wed the young lord stark. you know little of him or the north but will do your duty. this, however, does not release you from your worry of how the union will go or how you will settle into your role as lady of winterfell. luckily, cregan takes it upon himself to make you feel at home.

contains: fluff, people rooting for a bedding ceremony.

a/n: i am so in love with this man i need to be restrained.

word count: 2k

The carriage rocked on the road to Winterfell, your ocean blue gown ruffling as it did. You tried your best to ignore the wild beat of your heart in your chest, tried focusing instead on the growing pines that passed your window with increasing speed. Your mother sat at your side, a stoic presence that soothed you somehow. You took her hand in your own, and when she looked at you you didn’t have it in you to mask your utter fear. 

“You will be alright, child.” she sighed, bringing that same hand up to cup your cheek. “Lord Stark is a good man. I know you will be far from all that you know, but surely you will grow to love your new home as well as your betrothed.”

When you finally came to a halt outside its gates, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. You clutched your mother’s hand like a frightened babe when they drew open. The courtyard was full of expectant faces you knew you would eventually commit to memory. The townspeople were out and about, young rosy-cheeked girls squealing with delight as they spotted your carriage. Their soon-to-be Lady was within it, and you could only hope when the time came that you would not fall short of their expectations. They watched keenly as you stopped before them one final time, and you prepared to be devoured by hungry, prying eyes. You tugged on the fur lining of your cloak as your mother stepped down from the carriage. You quickly followed suit.

Indeed, you could feel their glares cutting clean through you. You had known enough ladies and lords to know they were searching for faults and virtues to remark upon as soon as you were out of earshot, but there were so many faces you could not focus on a single one. 

Instead your gaze swiftly fell upon the mountain of a man that was the young Lord Stark. His chestnut locks fell in such a manner that they delicately framed a rather rugged face, on which a scowl seemed to be permanently etched. But this was to be expected. It was common knowledge that smiles were rare amongst Northmen. Though winter was still months away, he was already cloaked head to toe in furs, an uncommonly large sword strapped across the broad expanse of his back. 

“Lady Y/N, welcome to Winterfell.” he rasped, his voice quite gravelly and masculine for so young a man. You offered him a small curtsy in return, but couldn’t quite muster up the agreeable smile your mother had asked you to perfect on the way here. You tried your best not to gawk as you took in the ancient castle, trailing behind Lord Stark as he strode through Winterfell’s stony halls. The biting cold of the north left your bones as you approached the hearth in the Great Hall. 

You listened as your mother exchanged pleasantries with members of Lord Stark’s court, though your eyes did not leave the dancing flames and glowing embers.

“You’re a long way from Highgarden.” he said as he came to stand beside you. His accent was harsh, the vowels flat and words clipped, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it somewhat pleasant to your ear.

You turned to regard him. Gods, he was beautiful. The fire cast his features in a golden hue, the color returning to his cheeks. He was a sight to behold, powerful and perhaps even fearsome, but in this moment so soft. You wondered what your future with him would look like. Would he take a liking to you? Would he hate you? When you eventually gave him children, would they take after their mother or father? Would it be a life worth living?

“Yes, my Lord.” you sighed, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. “A long way indeed.”

The muted ivory of your gown made you appear one with the snow of the Godswood. Your hair was unbound, save for the intricate braiding around the crown of your head. Only the moon’s and torches’ light showed you the way to the weirwood tree. Your father swiftly came to your side, looping your arm in his. He offered you a gentle caress along your icy cheek, a solemn look about his face as if watching a spring rose being sacrificed to the unforgiving cold of winter. Wordlessly, you began to walk.

Despite the North’s fame for brutal winters and even more brutal people, you couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet beauty of the Godswood. So still was it, that you could have sworn you felt its ancientness in your bones, could feel every ring of age around each tree stump. Snowflakes danced on their way down, coming to land upon strands of your hair. It was then that you saw him before the weirwood, his lips drawn into a thin line. He was covered in dark furs and a cloak, his hands clasped behind his straightened back. 

“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?” The words were spoken by a family ward. 

“Y/N of the House Tyrell.” your father replied. “She comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?” 

You watched as Lord Stark approached, towering over you. You hoped you would grow accustomed to it, to him. You held your breath when he spoke. “Cregan of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” 

You dared to look up, to meet his gaze. You found nothing but gentleness in them. “Who gives her?” Your father spoke his name. And now the ward asked you the question. 

“Lady Y/N, will you take this man?”

You could feel the overbearing weight of watchful eyes, of held breaths and keen ears. But Cregan’s eyes hadn’t left yours, determined to hold your gaze. You could have sworn a flicker of joy shone in them when you gasped out. 

“I take this man.”

Cregan offered you a shy curl of his lips, then took your hands in his. You noted that they were far smaller in comparison to his weathered hands as he led you to the trunk of the weirwood tree. Its face provided you with some strange comfort. Perhaps the gods would heed your prayers. Perhaps they were watching over you as you both knelt before the trunk. Silence fell upon the Godswood as the wedding party prayed. No sooner had the moment passed that you and your now husband rose to your feet. Cregan’s large hands reached around you to gingerly remove your cloak, a golden Tyrell rose embroidered upon it by your mother. 

You shivered as the cold crept into your body, but were swiftly covered once again, this time in a Stark cloak, the wolf sigil stitched boldly enough for all to see. And just like that, it was done.

It was the first time you had seen him smile, truly smile, since you had arrived at Winterfell. From where you sat at his side on the dais, the entirety of the Great Hall stretched out before you. Jovial music filled the hall, and you watched the merry faces of Cregan’s men as they helped themselves to the wedding feast. Their chatter echoed on the stone walls, and for the first time since you had left Highgarden, you felt somewhat at home.

“Has Winterfell begun to grow on you, wife?” Cregan’s husky voice came from your left. When you turned to meet him he was wearing a boyish smirk. He was playing. You didn’t suspect the Wolf of the North had it in him.

“Well, it may be a while longer before that happens.” you sheepishly admitted, struggling to hold his intense gaze. “But I know I will come to love it.”

“Aye.” he said. “I know it will never be your true home, but I promise you I will do all in my power to make it the next best thing.” He placed his large hand atop your own, taking your palm and squeezing it gingerly. You were thankful for the gesture, and couldn’t ignore the flush of your cheeks that resulted from it.

“You’re timid.” he observed, only causing you further embarrassment. “It’s quite charming.”

“You may very well be the only person who finds it to be so. Even back home my soft temper has been known to irritate others. Most times people can barely hear me when I speak. I find it easier to keep to myself and observe.” you confessed. “I truly must grow a thicker skin if I am to survive amongst the wolves.”

“You won’t survive.” Cregan stated matter of factly. You whipped your head toward him with wide eyes at that, not prepared for what he would say next. “You will thrive.”

You felt your muscles loosen up once again, offering him an incredulous laugh.

“I am perfectly serious, my Lady.” he went on. “You will rule the North at my side.”

“I hardly think I am equipped to rule such an – unruly people, my Lord.” you tried to mask the nervous tremble of your hand as you brought your wine to your lips.

“Cregan.” he rasped. “Call me Cregan.” You nodded, eyes crinkling above a smile. He leaned in, as if he were about to tell you a most precious secret. “Sometimes all a beast truly needs is the touch of a gentle hand.” 

You backed away to meet his eyes. They held nothing but truth in them. Nothing but honor. But your moment was soon ended by the clamor of the wedding party. The men began to holler, whooping and howling in unison. “Time for the bedding!”

You had anticipated this, and you now braced yourself for the unpleasant experience of being hauled to a bed with Cregan. You had always known your first time would be like this, and though you loathed the idea, you could not alter tradition. It was a surprise to you when Cregan rose from his chair, planting his large hands on the dinner table before he spoke.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but there will be no bedding ceremony tonight.” he bellowed out through the hall in a voice so commanding it was an effort not to shrink in his presence. “And I won’t hear any complaints about it. It’s too lovely an occasion to taint with a brawl.”

The men did their best to mask their disappointed groans as they returned to their dinner. You weren’t quite sure what had prompted Cregan to make such a decision. Did he not like you the way you had hoped? Perhaps he thought you fit to rule by him, to be a figurehead, but not someone he could ever desire in earnest. He must have read the emotions as they crossed your face, because he quickly took his seat beside you again. 

“Are you well, my Lady?” he asked. You merely nodded in response. He gently took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze towards his. “When you wish it to happen it will be just the two of us, husband and wife. No prying eyes or ears.”

Warmth bloomed in your heart at the words. It was as if he had quieted the growing storm in your mind with only the touch of a hand. A gentle hand.

“You are a man of honor, Cregan.” you said resolutely.

He only smiled in return as he brought you in closer, finally pressing his lips to yours. The touch sent sparks down your spine. It was in that moment you knew that spark would soon fan into a flame a thousand northern winds could not snuff out.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @spxllcxstxr @lovemesomevesey @shemisseshome @themissgreen24-blog @siriusement @kingdomzeldaquest @gayfordabae @slayis4ever

[astropookie]

asteroids related to love 💝

ao haru ride

ik this is too cheesy for my style but hope it may help :) these asteroids are just a few compared to the existing.

self love

hygeia (10): how to maintain a healthy relationship between body and soul.

medea (212): represents our healing ability. archetype of Pluto/scorpio. where we make mistakes again and again, vengeful, practically process of healing.

fated connections

devine (3561): if it has aspects with other’s person planets/asteroids could indicate a trascendental connection.

libby (5672): represents fated connections.

aura (1488): represents an intuitive connection.

karma (3811): indicates you’re destined to meet with these person due to past-life unfinished business.

destinn (6583): strong connection, destiny like.

pholus (5145): if it’s in synastry/composite chart, indicates unexpected events that would change the trajectory of your life -that has to do with this connection-.

sposetti (22354): means “married couple” in Italian. marriage potential, past life marriages or special connections.

betrayal

oenone (215): indicates people where you have been cheated on/ left by lovers or simply felt betrayal.

love synonyms

paeonia (1061): represents a flower that symbolizes love, honor and wealth.

olathe(18984): lovely, beautiful.

loving (432971): loving emotions.

ask (4894): represents the way you love someone, “love” in turkish.

liebe (7696): “love” in german. romantic expectations and needs.

pure/unconditional love

ceres (1): unconditional love, depth we’re willing to go for the ones we love.

alma (390): represents the desire of expanding our heart while time passes, optimism for love and romance.

agapenor (5023): simple appreciation. unconditional love that can last through ages, not only romantic. altruistic love.

valentine (447): sacrificial type of love, deep bonds between two people. indicates the urge to give our all without asking anything in return.

child (4580): represents our inner child. pure, unfiltered, innocent love.

isis (42): desire to nurture/protect the ones we love and care about. also may represent leadership qualities. loyalty, devotion, between others.

romantic love

amor (1221): means love in spanish. represents what we need to show/break patterns to commit with the person we want to love.

cupido (763): represents how you fall in love. I’ll think on this asteroid more like a “crush” type of “love”, innocent at first.

juno (3): can represent our romantic boundaries, what we will do for romantic -not necessarily- relationships and I have a post of juno series if you’d like an interpretation of your juno sign.

union (1585): inner need of deep and meaningful connections -any type-. indicates qualities of the relationship in composite charts.

adonis (2101): ideal type, plus if you like masculine.

groom (5129): indicates how do we approach role of marriage -long term commitment- in their life. who you may end up having this relationship, depending on your preferences.

briede (19029): like asteroid groom, associated with commitment, etc. like the name, dependa in preferences.

others

companion (8490): shows wanting to be all the time with that person. what are you looking for in a long term connection (romantic or not).

anteros (1943): manner which you reciprocate love, requited love.

luda (1158): where do people adore/love you.

link (3505): indicates the type of connection -close- between partners.

lovelock (51663): obsessive love, like the name.

galatea (74): imo idealization of our type of a person.

akashi (5881): requires introspection/exploration. hidden knowledge and potential. has to do with how our past relationships affects our present and future.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪ ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ )و ✩

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[icanseethefuture333]

Glamour Witch 🕯

A guide to confidence, beauty, & self love 🪞🩰🦢🍒💌

How I made glamour magick efficient for me and why working with the goddess Aphrodite shifted my self concept + help me connect to the divine feminine 🕊

First let's do a back story on my relationship with my matron 🌸:

My spiritual awakening happened when I was 17 years old after experiencing the loss of a loved one and coping with past trauma. I went into my adolescence with fear, agony, and poor self esteem. I was very much so a tomboy as a teenager (to this day I still have masculine qualities that I am now proud of and balanced it with my feminine side) but I was so out of touch with what being a "girl" was. I felt really self conscious about not being "woman" enough and had a complicated view on my gender (since I realized I was nonbinary at 14). I became interested in the occult since I grew up in a spiritual household (crystals, manifestation, etc) but never really got to engage with things like tarot or witchcraft because it was considered taboo. I had a reading done one day and I was told that Aphrodite wanted to work with me as my deity. My teenage self was confused by this because I thought - "The goddess of beauty and love wanted to work with me? Well that can't be right." I was expecting something more dark or cool like Hades or Hermes or whatever because that was just my personal style since I dressed very alternatively. I was nervous, but also intrigued. As I begun to pray to her and started doing spellwork - I felt safe, I felt loved, it was like a mother watching over me. I started learning how to do makeup for my ethnic features and became more educated about fashion and what it means to really be a true feminist. I learned to say fuck the binary system and made my own definition of not what just being a "woman" is but also what being "feminine" meant to me, period. You can be whatever you want to be and be beautiful regardless of what your appearance is like. Some days I want to wear snapbacks and sneakers, other times I wanna wear high heels with a flattering dress. I do what makes me feel comfortable and that's nobody's business but mine. Society made us believe that being sensitive, caring, or intuitive - the traits of the divine feminine (which we have in us all) as bad when it's not. There's strength in being soft and delicate. Be gentle towards yourself, my loves.

Embrace your shadow self to manifest your dream life ✨️:

You know what people will never tell you or admit to you on social media? Is that you can be self conscious and still be confident at the same time. Confidence is just being comfortable with yourself and knowing despite what you've been through or are feeling in the moment, it should not hold you back from achieving your fullest potential. Like Megan Thee Stallion said "Bad bitches have bad days too" And it's true! I have my good days and then I have my bad days, but even when I'm doubting or losing my faith, I always get back up by keep going. Why? It's because if I stop then I'm not living. I'm not being grateful for the life I still have while there are people out there battling severe illnesses and don't have much time left. Nobody wants to be candid and only want to portray themselves as perfect, when nobody is. It's a damaging narrative to think you have to be popping on social media and always staying positive. I don't know why being vulnerable is such a stigma these days. Everyone is scared of being hurt, sure, but there is so much power in knowing what you makes you happy and being able to voice what your wants/needs are. You get to live for yourself and not what others want you to be. Not to mention the importance of having the power and ability to set the boundaries your inner child probably never got to have?! I'm so tired of people spreading the belief of that you shouldn't talk about mental health, trauma, or personal fears because it makes you seem "weak" or "easy prey". That is the same tactics abusers use to make their victims stay hushed and makes them not able to stand up for themselves. That way of thinking is victim blaming! If you as a person, feel brave enough to discuss what the fuck is going on in your mind that does not make you a weakling, that makes you strong as hell. They are the weak ones for taking advantage of people who were already suffering. It's time to forgive yourself for your past mistakes and acknowledge what happened, but do not let it control you. You don't have to let go or get over it, it's okay if it's still a wound for you but you can choose to make it better by creating a better future by working with your higher self. Think about who you want to be, how you want to appear, what career you aspire to have, etc. Either write it down, visualize, or make a vision board. Release the old version of you and thank them for helping you survive.

I have been reading the book Mirror Work by Louise Hay and it entails about how the negative things people said or the difficult experiences we had dealt with in our lifetime gets stored in our subconscious mind. When we make jokes that are self depreciating or engage in self degrading behavior, it harms us even more, preventing us from maturing or loving ourselves. Doing shadow work is uncomfortable for everyone but it is a must to process the patterns in your life and learn as to why you become the person you are today. Being aware of your triggers and what makes you tick. Can make you more emotionally intelligent and be able to have a healthier conversation as well as creating lasting positive connections.

Books I recommend for subconscious reprogramming, shadow work, & healing from trauma:

Mirror Work by Louise Hay

"The Courage to" book series by Ichiro Kishimi & Fumitake Koga

Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud & Dr. John Townsend

The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle

The Self Confidence Workbook by Barbara Markway & Celia Ampel

Psychology of The Unconscious by Dr. Carl Jung

It Didn't Start With You by Mark Wolynn

You can also find shadow work prompts on pinterest.

Don't just say it, do it! 11 ways to actually practice self care:

Making a goal and actually putting the effort in can be tough for some individuals, especially for those diagnosed with depression. That's why it's important to be patient with yourself and understand that healing is a journey, not a race! A youtuber I have been enjoying and watching lately is the critically acclaimed, thewizardliz: An Iranian woman who gives advice on confidence, discipline, and more! A video that I watched of hers recently was called and bluntly titled: "How to stop being lazy & pathetic". In most of liz's videos she is someone who is tough but is also tender. She explains that when we are procrastinating it's because we are thinking of just the end goal, which scares us and makes us overthink about what to do or how to do it. When really, we can just take small, simple steps at a time to reach towards what we wish to accomplish, so that way it will feel less intimidating. If you have a essay that's due for example, try to write a few sentences each day, or think about how good it would feel if you were to get a good grade on your paper. Think of it this way - Would you rather slack and be upset you failed? Or would you rather prevent that from happening so you can be proud of what you achieved? Figure out what motivates you as a person and write it down so you can always be reminded of the confident being you wish to become.

Journaling: This is such a crucial hobby that I believe everyone should have. Writing down your thoughts or feelings helps not only increases your intelligence and brain health, but it also helps navigate your feelings better when you are facing a problem. You are able to reflect inward and discover the different parts of your psyche that you never knew you had.

Art: Divine feminine energy embodies the source of creation and life. The same way people with wombs give birth to children, an artist's project can be their beautiful baby. Find what type of art form brings you peace and allows you to express yourself (poetry, songwriting, dancing, painting, woodcarving, etc).

Exercise: I know this is something that some people struggle with (me included 💀) and when people hear that it's like "Ugh, I don't wanna work out! It's too hard!" but just hear me out okay? We have to exercise so our internal organs can stay healthy. When we don't take care of ourselves by not at least taking 15 minutes out of our day by walking, exercising, or cardio, when there is 24 hours in a day... That is a major neglect to yourself. Just remember that it is a privilege that you still have the ability to move, jump, lift, run, squat, and even more. When there are people who suffer from chronic pain and disabilities that are still making sure to take care of their physical health because they have no other choice. When you think about how you're too "lazy" and you can't do it because of your "laziness", think of those people! Cherish the health that you have before it's too late. You can start by stretching, going for walks, or watching workout videos for beginners on YouTube.

Build a schedule: Having a routine is so important because it helps reduce stress and organizes the task that we have to do throughout our day. Make a sleep schedule for yourself as well. Going to bed late until 3 am in the morning or waking up too early is unsafe and makes you less alert when you are out in the world. So please be careful! Try to at least get 6 hours of sleep a day. Drinking tea, taking a warm bath, or using essential oils can help you fall asleep if you don't like using melatonin.

Cleanliness & Hygiene: It's unfortunate that I have to say this but some people were not taught by their parents on how to be clean. Or how cishet men feel that being hygienic is "gay". That's absurd! Everyone should have a clean house, clean body, and a good hygiene routine. There is no excuse for that. Even when I was depressed I still would get up to brush my teeth or wash my hair because I knew that if I were to ever go too long without taking care of my hygiene I'd have to deal with damaging my teeth, hair, or skin. Everything has a cause and effect when you neglect doing self care and that could also be apart of the reason why you feel so down about your looks is due to that lack of poor hygiene. It doesn't have to be anything extravagant and you don’t need to do a 10 step skincare routine all the time. You can buy beauty products for cheap at off price retail stores and can get combs, toothbrushes, etc, at the dollar store. All you gotta do is wash your face and shower daily (scrub in between your ass cheeks, please and thank you 💀), brush your teeth at least 3 or more times a day, moisturize with lotions, use a sunscreen (cus nobody got time for skin cancer), apply deodorant, and that's literally it. You can use toners, serums, and skin treatments if you feel like it but that’s not neccessary unless you have specific concerns (acne, wrinkles, etc).

Personal finance 💵: As a Capricorn ♑️, there is nothing more important to me than having my own money. Knowing how to budget and being responsible with your funds is so crucial. You can manifest prosperity and be wealthy, but if you don't know what to do with a million dollars, how could you ever receive it? It is so attractive when someone is wise with their money. I took elective classes in high school for commercial art, marketing, and personal finance so that way I could learn to how to be independent as an adult and not have to "hustle" or live the struggle life. Always take care of your household bills (utilities, repairs, gas for the car, etc.) first and then leave a certain amount for yourself for when you want to have fun, go shopping, etc. Learn about how to make an investment, as well as stocks, because that is another way that you can make a lot of money (and no I don't mean Crypto or NFTs 😭)

Education is key 📚: READ HEAUXS REEEEAD 👓 Make those sapiosexuals quiver with your big sexy brain 🧠. I just feel like in general we need to be knowledgeable about our history and *Jaden Smith voice* the political state of the world right now. Being dismissive and ignorant is a major turn off. You have to be able to know how to communicate in certain settings or talk about certain subjects, or else you're gonna just look and sound dumb. I don't care if you like to read about insects or flowers, just find a topic that interests you.

Boundaries: A simple way to start implementing self care into your daily routine is by being able to say "Yes." Or "No." I know for women it is hard to assert themselves and say no especially when there is a grimy ass man tryna flirt with you (ayoooo shawty 🤓), but for your own protection you gotta do it. When people know you are not stern and you are not able to defend yourself, they take advantage of that. It makes you an easy target. Let's say for a example, you have a overbearing parent that constantly drains and takes from your energy. This parent doesn't respect you and makes you feel bad about yourself because you let them. When they ask you for something, you can just say; "Thank you but I will not be doing that. It would be an inconvenience for me right now because I have to focus on ___" or "I would prefer not to do that because I have to do ___ this week and it's very important". Even if it's not anything actually important, still say no. Another example is if you have a friend that's toxic and is not elevating you in any type of way (mentally, emotionally, or finacially). Then tell them that and cut them off. You are not obligated to stay around anyone who brings you down. Here is a list of ways to set boundaries professionally. Also learn to stop over apologizing here is what you can do instead. Margot Robbie learned to say "Thank you" instead of saying "sorry" because of Barbie.

Meditation 🧘🏽‍♀️: A useful skill in embracing your thoughts, whether they are positive or negative, to help in finding your inner zen. Meditation was something that was tricky for me at first. Most people say to "empty your mind and be still" when meditating and for someone with ADHD, I was like... "Umm, this is boring 💀???" but overtime I tried it a few times again and have grown to appreciate it! I learned that meditation was actually quite helpful for me, especially when I felt burdened with too many tasks, or was dealing racing thoughts. It just really helped me calm down, especially when I was feeling overwhelmed (for people who experience sensory overloads I highly recommend!). I no longer feel ashamed or fearful of when a intrusive thought crosses my mind. I just simply let that thought pass through and go on about my day. The average young adult has over 6,000 thoughts a day, so why would I give something so meaningless power? I am in control of myself and what I react to. For this, it will allow you to do the same.

Spend time with a loved one: I'm sure we all have someone who we consider our comfort person or a special pet that makes us feel calm. Humans are animals, sometimes we need that social interaction to stay sane during troubling times. Make a phone call, text, or plan to meet up with a friend or family member this week. Maybe even step out of your comfort zone and ask an acquaintance out for lunch.

Be brave: Remember what I said about stepping out of your comfort zone? That's right. It's time to stop living a life of regrets and live a life of excitement. I want you to think about something you've been really wanting to do lately but haven't pursued it yet because of fear, doubt, or limiting beliefs. Take a deep breath and release it to the universe, your spirit guides, or any deity that you worship. Maybe there is a person you have a crush that you have been wanting to ask out lately or have been wanting to dye your hair a new color but were afraid of how it would turn out. Whatever it is, just have courage to go after what you want for once. For being brave is just about taking a leap of faith, even when you are scared.

How to awaken your inner goddess ✨️:

Loving yourself shouldn't be a chore, it should be a ritual baby 😌! Now for my beginner witches or practioners in closed practices. I know it can be intimidating to start doing deity work. That's why you have to take things slow and go at your own pace. I always recommend starting with doing a cleansing (burning incense, spraying florida water, etc) or a protection spell before doing any other kind of magick. Even though yes, I do worship Aphrodite, it is not neccessary for people to only go to her for a "glow up". There are sooooo many deities who are also gods or goddesses of love, beauty, etc. Naturally, a deity will show you signs that they wish to work with you, so makw sure to be on the look out for that!

Also if you are a woman of color like mwuahhh 😘 then here are a list of deities that also represent love, confidence, beauty, fertility, & creativity in African, Asian, Indigenous, & Pacific Islander religions:

Oshun (closed practice / Yoruba)

Yenaya (closed practice / Yoruba)

Hathor

Bastet

Isis

Astarte

Rati (Hinduism)

Lakshimi (Hinduism)

弁才天 / Benzaiten (Japanese Buddhism)

자청비 / Jacheongbi

仰阿莎 / Yang Asha

Liễu Hạnh

Mayari

Laka

Xochiquetzal

Estsanatlehi

Other deities are:

Apollo, Cupid, Eros, Priapus, Min, Brigid, & Dionyus

There is also ascended masters, saints, archangels, ancestors, & spirit guides that you can connect with. I recommend building a relationship with your ancestors first.

How to talk your deity:

Create an altar for them or a sacred space.

Cleanse the area to avoid interacting with trickster spirits.

Place offerings on the table (make sure to look up what offerings they like!).

Light a candle or burn incense for them.

Write them a letter or pray. You can ask them for help with your specific needs or just talk to them about your day or how you are currently feeling.

BE CONSISTENT! Deities are not one of your little friends, they are gods/goddesses. Show them respect by praying, including them in spellwork, and giving them offerings frequently (they are understanding if you cannot give them food or drinks all the time though if you cannot afford it).

The final boss, The Enchantress 🔮❄️:

"SHADOW MONEY WIZARD GANGGG! We love casting spells 😈"

Alright, alright. I know you guys were reading all this thinking "Bitch where tf is the tutorial??? 😭" BUT WHAT I HAD TO SAY WAS IMPORTANT SO YOU CAN HAVE LONG TERM RESULTS 💀! Here is the moment you've all been waiting forrr 🤭!

101 on Glamour Magick:

The days of the week are connected to the planets.

Friday is a good day for casting love and beauty spells since it's ruler is Venus. While on Monday you can cast spells for healing & enhancing psychic powers, since it's ruler is the Moon. Thursday's ruler is Jupiter so you can cast spells for money and prosperity.

Buy a mirror that is for your special use only (If someone ends up accidently using it it's okay nothing bad will happen to them). Spray it with a window cleaner and wipe it down counter clockwise, say what your intention is for the mirror as you clean it. You can buy any kind of mirror you like (compact mirror, hand held mirror, desktop mirror, etc).

You can use your mirror for scrying or seeing into the future (divination).

When doing your mirror work, look into your eyes, and affirm to yourself. It can be anything you wish to say. Just let it flow naturally. It might feel uncomfortable at first but as you continue to practice it you will feel more confident about it.

Include your deity while affirming. (When I do this, I show appreciation to Aphrodite, and thank her for blessing me with such beauty and grace. Even when in the moment I don't have the results I wish to see, I know it is going to happen because I have faith in her.)

Ask your ancestors what their beauty rituals and regimes were. Doing routines that your ancestors did will create a closer bond with them and also build confidence in your ethnic features.

Items that are represented as love: roses, cinnamon, honey, sugar, vanilla, coriander, basil, chamomile, carnations, tulips, lockets, keys, & hearts

Items that are represented as beauty: cowrie shells, orchids, peony, ribbons, veils, & bows

Items that help enhance intuition: seashells, conch shells, rosemary, lotuses, & feathers

Chinese guashas & jade rollers help reduce stress, tension, and puffiness in your facial muscles. It can also help sculpt your face.

African waistbeads were worn by women under their clothes to help slim their waist and also attract love. Depending on the crystals used, it would also help manifest abundance.

Some beauty crystals used for love, beauty, & intuition are: Rose quartz, jade, pink tourmaline, moonstone, amethyst, selenite, garnet, carnelian, and turquoise.

You can carve sigils or symbols onto your candle, an easy one to use is the venus symbol ♀️.

A list of meanings for the scents of the candle, wax, or deodorizer in your home. Here is the list for incense.

Candles are great to seal your spell jars or use on their own for magick.

A list of different burning sticks you can use (smudging, white sage, and Palo Santo is a closed practice)

The scent of your perfume can be used for seduction or attracting love/popularity.

Soap, shampoo, or conditioner can be used to cleanse your energy.

Ingredients in foods, cleaning, haircare, skincare, or beauty products can have magical properties that you can attract towards you or your home. (I.E: Lavendar for peace & tranquility, Lemon for warding off negative energy, & Vanilla for love)

"The hair theory" trend is a form of glamour magick. Doing your hair differently can create a new persona and change how people perceive you.

Depending on your hair color it can represent the elements.

Your hair texture can symbolize what power you possess: Coily hair grows upward and rises towards the sun. When using their awareness, they are highly observant and courageous. Coily hair has the fire element. Curly hair breaks hexes and spiritually protects the mind. Due to it's volume and resemblance to a cloud, it has the air element. People with wavy hair are intuitive, affectionate, and sensitive, their element is water. Straight hair is the most connected to the earth. People with this hair texture can be introverted, dependable, and grounded.

Your hair length signifies your current state of energy.

Short hair is connected to father sky.

Long hair is connected to mother earth.

It is best to cut your hair when you are in need of releasing stress, anguish, and turmoil.

You can set your intentions into the hair that you braid.

Black people can cornrow patterns or symbols onto their scalp for manifestation.

Locs symbolize freedom and wisdom from the ancestors.

Twists can be used for spiritual binding.

Read here for more on hair witchcraft & hair astrology.

Wearing headscarves, hijabs, bonnets, durags, or hats can protect you from the evil eye or if you're an empath, it can protect your energy from being drained in public spaces.

Do not make any physical changes during a Venus retrograde.

Plastic surgery can alter one's identity. It is like putting on a different mask. It can become an addiction to people who feel lost in life. While for others it can give them a new path to start on.

You can paint sigils or symbols for nail art.

The nail shape you have or get done at a salon can correspond to Onychomancy (https://www.tiktok.com/@taisoleil/video/7035737221068082479?_t=8etXLhtR3LH&_r=1)

You can also use yours or other's eyebrows for divination.

Straight eyebrows: someone who is level headed. Round eyebrows: someone who is compassionate with a kind heart. Arched eyebrows: someone who is independent. Thick eyebrows: someone who can be stubborn and goal oriented. Thin eyebrows: someone who is bold and daring. No eyebrows: someone who is a risk taker and can be careless. The unibrow: symbolizes good luck, fertility, & serendipity.

Your eyelashes are for good luck (which is why people make a wish on fallen lashes, they are similar to dandelions).

Different lash styles can be used as a "barricade".

Manga/spiked lashes: makes you appear pure & innocent, can get away with stuff more. Fluffy lashes: depending on the thickness, it can resemble a spider, therefore can cause someone to have a intensive aura. Cat/hybrid lashes: Increase in clairvoyance, see past the 3D, and have the senses of a feline. Natural lashes: The gaze will be comforting and welcoming to others, they can see into your soul.

Your eye color can mean what powers you have for spells. Colored contacts can create a different outcome.

Glasses can be used for insight and enlightenment. While sunglasses or shades, can make you more mysterious/hide your identity.

For those with periods, cycle syncing can help with increasing productivity.

Depending on your body shape, weight, & features it could symbolize your status in society.

In ancient Greece, people who were voluptuous with plump bellies were seen as healthy & rich. It was a sign of being well fed and treated like royalty.

In Africa & Southeast Asia, long necks signify having dignity & elegance.

Being tall could be seen as powerful, while being short could be seen as delicate. If you are average height, you could be seen as harmonious.

Physiognomy is the method of using the face & body for divination. In China, it is a popular method for readings.

Moles, birthmarks, & skin tags are believed to be the sign of being a Witch.

Vitiligo can mean spiritual purification & finding beauty in your imperfections.

It has been said that freckles are kisses from the angels. These people themselves can be described as earth angels or have a closer connection with archangels.

The form of your freckles can symbolize different things. If they form in a straight line, it could mean you are a focused person. If they are scattered, you like to go with the flow in life. If your freckles come and go during the seasons, you like to experience change or excitement often in your life.

Freckles & beauty marks overall show signs of a person having a unique character.

The clothing you wear can have a mystical effect.

Baggy/layered clothing: spiritually protective. Revealing clothing: free spirited & alluring. Patterned clothing: Makes you illusive or hard to decipher. Animal print clothing: embodies the energy of said animal (I.E: Tiger print would make you appear cunning & fierce). Colorful clothing: your spirit will seem more youthful & vivacious.

The shoes you wear can make you walk into new opportunities unexpectedly.

You can keep a piece of paper that has a spell in your shoes for good luck or attracting your desire.

Buying shoes and watches for your romantic partner is bad luck in hoodoo (Shoes can make someone walk out the door and leave forever. While watches can make someone look at the time they have left with you.)

Earrings can help you hear what others say about you or what gossip is going around. (I heard the most compliments the other day while wearing my gold hoops 💫)

A necklace that has a charm or crystal can be used as a tailsmans, amulet, or pendulum.

Wearing rings on which hand or finger could enhance your abilities.

The same way there is money bowls, you can also make love or beauty bowls, or even use your jewelry box.

You can use color magick when doing your makeup or choosing an outfit.

Primer, lotions/moisturizers, body butters, oils, and gels can be used for sigils.

Foundation is for stability and being secure with yourself.

Concealer "cloaks" or "veils" your weaknesses or insecurities.

Contour makes space and structure for your desire.

Eyeliner can be used as a tool. It wards off negative spirits & people with bad intentions.

In ancient Egypt, the use of Kohl represented rank and achievement.

Mascara can be used to give you a different perspective in things or make you more open minded.

Eyeshadow enhances your eyes & brings more depth or dimension. Makes your gaze hypnotic & enticing like a siren's.

Highlighter shines your best qualities.

Bronzer makes your presence more warm & friendly

Blush is for playfulness, youthfulness, flirtation, and vitality.

The lip product you use can speak your desires into fruition. It also make your words sound more beautiful. People will want to listen more because they will feel attracted to your voice.

Lip gloss: makes your intentions "stick" to you. Lipstick: Leaves a "mark" on your target (especially if it's someone you fancy 💋). Lip stain: makes your words have a permanent effect on people, they won't forget you. Flavored lip balms: makes your kisses addicting.

Powder enhances your spell & adds a touch of good luck.

Setting spray finishes the spell.

528 Hz is the frequency of love.

Listening to frequencies, music, & subliminals can attract your desires.

You can make a playlist for your deity or ancestors to channel messages from them.

Here are some celebrities who used mirror work or glamour magick to manifest:

Beyoncé's Renaissance album has themes of having a good self concept, knowing your worth, manifesting self love & abundance.

Marilyn Monroe used visualization & affirmations to manifest her beauty and fame: “I daydreamed chiefly about beauty. I dreamed of myself becoming so beautiful that people would turn to look at me when I passed.”

Michael Jackson would keep sticky notes and a diary full of affirmations in his room by his mirror: “I'm beautiful (4x). I'm gorgeous. [Bad..?] Is for me, who can be against me? I'm beautiful. I'm a new person now. Beautiful, knowing the secret, and determined with fire[?] to move mountains in all I do. Molding my own world. I'm beautiful. The old me is behind. I will much ahead anew. - MJ”

Alexa Demie stated in a interview with Vogue that she would say affirmations in the mirror daily in the morning and it helped her manifest clear skin: “I have beautiful, clear, acne-free, scar-free skin.”

Princess Nokia is a bruja and is well known for her constant change in appearance: “Casting spells with my cousins / I'm the head of this coven / I'm a shapeshifting bitch, you don't know who you loving.”

Thanks so much for reading, I wish you all the best of luck on your journey 🤍🤍🤍

[savannahsdeath]

thinking about dealer!ellie, but not the college-little one . . . one, that an innocent girl like you sees on a dark alley and she can't help but instinctively start walking faster. yet, it turns out, she's really a sweetheart when you give her a chance <3

warnings: daddy issues kinda ?? ellie can seem creepy at first but i swear she's not .. thats all for now

you explored the darkest part of the city, the moonlight not brightening your way at all. you felt lost.

you always defined yourself as fatherless, it was the easiest way to explain the lack of a parent — people thought he died and didn't pursue the topic. after some time passed, you started believing your own lie. deep down, in a strangled part of your brain, you knew he's alive and well. but on the other hand, he wasn't — not for you, not in your life. why would he matter?

until he contacted you. he didn't show up in person, what at first made you think that he's... well, a pussy. but you soon realised it's actually analytical and mindful of him. you could act on impulse, say or do something bad. seeing him for the first time won't be easy. he gave you some time to think, so your emotions didn't get between both of you, and couldn't ruin your relationship from the beginning.

but he could at least leave you his phone number instead of the most complicated address, consisting of, not to be dramatic but, like a hundred numbers.

"can i help you?" you heard a feminine, yet hard and raspy voice.

the unforeseen sound made you jump, your heart beating like a little bird trapped in a cage, trying to get out of your chest. you couldn't let her notice how scared you were, though. you crumpled the letter in your sweaty hand. the yellowish paper felt humid, probably soaking wet from your moist skin.

"i don't think so." your voice trembled with the first vowel but you managed to regain your unbothered, callous posture right after.

"this..." she gestured at the ground and area around you — dark buildings that looked empty, yet you felt watched, in plain sight. "this is a bad place for girls like you."

you nervously cleared your throat, deciding to ignore her opinion, and continued on walking. but you could still hear her echoing footsteps.

"i think that— you shouldn't be there. and you don't want to be there." she crossed her arms.

once you gave up and turned around, you were left surprised by how pretty she was. your expectations were— well, on a way lower level. she looked masculine and you could see the curves of her muscles through her clothes, yet you weren't feeling precarious nor apprehensive by her presence anymore.

"actually," she continued, "i know that. it's painted all over your face. one glance in your direction and i already sense the discomfort."

you sharply inhaled, the air hissing in your nostrils as you mumbled an annoyed "god" under your breath. "are you always like that?"

"no." she shook her head and pursed her lips in a thin line, before realising what you meant and chuckling. "not at all. but you should be fuckin' thankful." she untangled her arms and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "c'mon, what are you looking for?"

you pinched your nose bridge and closed your eyes with a huff, because why did she have to be so damn persistent and perpetual? but she seemed able to help you, so in a slightly complaining—dissenting tone you murmured your father's name.

and her stubborn smirk faded, her gaze shifted between you and the letter in your hand. "who are you?" she asked, emphasizing each syllable, as if she was talking to a child.

you were dubious and skeptical on what you should say nor should you admit the truth, you just shrugged. a hesitant, mistrustful raise of your shoulders, which even deepened the girl's frown, knitting her eyebrows together. "i dunno..."

"you can't be a sluuu— sorry, a prostitute" she thought aloud, actually considering this option.

"why?" your expression glowered as you scowled. oh, so your father is associated with call girls, how nice! "don't answer. whatever. just— take me to him."

"i can't." she defensively raised her hands. "you could be a... fuck, i don't know, a spy or something!"

"don't be stupid" you scoffed and couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i'm his daughter."

she gulped and her eyes widened. "daughter?..."

✧˖°

PART 2 IS OUT !!

[wittlesissyb4by]

Babydoll

He thought it was what he wanted, he really did. Ever since Christian was little, he enjoyed playing with dolls. Not so much because he liked to do what girls do–well, he did–but more that he wanted to be the doll. They got to wear pretty dresses and have their long blonde hair put into bows, their cutesy shoes switched out, and they got to be pampered and adored by someone else.

Speaking of pampered, Christian seemed to always gravitate towards the dolls that needed diapers. The ones that would squirt fake wets and messes so he could change them. He remembered begging his Mother for those toys.

His Mother knew that Christian would most likely not grow up to be a very strong, masculine boy. She knew her son was not like the others, he’d taken far too much interest in all things feminine, but she also never saw anything wrong with that. She would oblige him if he asked her to paint his nails, or put make-up on him, or make his hair curly. She thought it would be a phase, something he’d grow out of when he got to high school.

But college came and went and Christian was still living in her basement. She could hear him at night, making loud, pathetic mewling sounds. Watching god knows what on the internet and doing god knows what to himself. She found countless diapers in the trashcan that Christian did a pisspoor job of hiding. When a bra or panty set went missing, she knew the first place to look was in Christian’s room tucked into the back of his closet. She never said anything, though. She let her boy partake in his little fantasies and work himself raw. She’d change his sheets that only had a hint of piss soaked into them, as if most of it ended up somewhere else and this was only what leaked out when a certain item had reached capacity.

Christian had spent most of his life jerking off to sissy and abdl and feminization porn. He’d watched countless hypnos that made his brain rot, he even put his own penis in a cage sometimes and learned to cum like a ‘gurl’. But all of that was only when he was in the throes of hornydom. He’d dream of being a pretty little doll for someone, to get put in diapers and dresses and makeup and be ‘forced’ to live life as a little sissy bimbo. This, obviously, didn’t do much for the ladies, so he never had a true girlfriend.

So one day, Christian decided after 5 days of depriving himself of orgasms, that he was finally going to come out to his Mom. He was going to tell her about how he’s a sissy, how he likes to wear diapers, and be treated like a baby. He was tired of keeping all of this shoved down and tucked away for so long.

It felt so freeing to finally tell her. To let her know everything about what her son was secretly doing. But, apparently, it wasn’t much of a surprise at all. She hardly blinked an eye, and instead just smiled like a mother patiently waiting for her child to correctly solve what 6+8 is, and congratulating him for finally getting it.

“So you want me to treat you like a little sissy baby?” she asked, clarifying.

“Well, no…” he said. Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to say. Instead, he was awestruck by the idea, by the possibilities. He could finally get what he wanted! He could have someone treat him like the sissy baby gurl he’d always wanted to be! “Yes!” He said for real, “Very much yes!!”

His mother only laughed. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I mean, when will it stop? How long do you want to do this?”

“Forever.” He said, a single word sealing his fate. If he knew what he knew now, he would have never uttered that word.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Okay…maybe he shouldn’t have said that one either.

So started Christian’s journey into sissy depravity. His mother pulled out all the stops, showing no mercy. Like a stern parent raising her child once more, she kept him in line using discipline, time outs, and a new one most mothers can’t use: chastity denial.

She watched as her son slowly transformed into a babbling, drooly mess. She wasn’t sure if it was the hypnosis she’d been making him watch, or all the childish TV shows. He wasn’t allowed to play his video games any more, something he threw quite the little tantrum over. Instead, he was given blocks and rattles and (if he was good) some of his favorite dollies. She didn’t have to cook much, Gerber took care of all his meals. She’d shovel pureed prunes and peas into his mouth and wipe up the contents to shove back in. She didn’t think she’d ever be changing Christian’s poopy diapers again, yet here she was.

But after only a few short months, she started to notice even more of a change in him. He became more reclusive, more whiny, more tearful.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” she asked, drying Christian’s eyes with his food splattered bib.

“I on’t wanna be uh baby anymore!” he cried.

But his Mother showed no sympathy. “Awww!! Well that’s too bad, hunny! This is what you wanted! Remember? You wanted this to be forever.”

Christian looked up at her with his little doe eyes, like he knew he’d made a grave mistake.

“I guess this is as good a time as ever to tell you…” Mother said, clearing her throat, “I’ve arranged for you to have a little…procedure.”

“Puceedur?” Christian could hardly get the words out, his brain was so numb.

“Yes honey. You know those little princess parts between your legs?” 

He looked confused.

“The ones inside your pampers.”

That seemed to make sense to him, anything involving diapers was easy to get his head around.

“Well you see honey, this procedure, this operation is going to take those away!”

His eyes went wide, but he still looked hazy. Like he could only slightly understand the gravity of the situation. It took several more seconds to finally sink in.

“B-b-but…I on’t wanna lose my princess parts!!”

His mother just shrugged, arms crossed. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, dear. You wanted this, and I’m just supporting you.”

She pulled a bottle from the bag, shaking it with her finger over the nipple, then brought that nipple to Christian’s lips.

“Drink up, honey!” she said softly, “This has all the ingredients to help you become the wittle baby gurl you’ve always dreamed of being!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a custom caption for one of my lovely followers on Substar! If you'd like one of your very own, simply subscribe to Silver or higher tiers!

[dansformations]

"This ass Is your for farting"

Tags: dumbification, male tfs, fart kink, wish went wrong.

This Is my fault. I tought my boyfriend was too femenine, too flamboyant...

I liked him, he was handsome, smart, lovely ... and With the Best ass around, but just not really into girly guys, he kinda embarrasses me when im with my mates... So i push him to convice him to join to the soccer team, maybe he could learn one or two Things about being masculine around those studs of the team.

After lots of trying, telling him i had a 'phantasy with soccer players' he said yes, he pick the team in base of the uniform tho.., the one who 'make him look Better', obviously the pink.

At start he wasnt enjoying It, but with the Time i saw him getting More excited about It, Until the day he came to our place excited about his first game, that day also notice something diferent... A slightly stench, i tought he just forgot to put some deodorant that day, but that stench just got stronger and stronger With time..., and he looked ok With it, a little too much i would say:

PRRRRPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT he lifted a leg and farted while we were at the couch together watching a movie - huh huh! Protein fart!

-Sweetheart, wtf!? - i said covering my nose

- Just some Man scent, "sweetheart" - i felt some anoy in His voice, and More in that last part - and this thing Is getting to boring, Let me find something Better - he quit or drama queer movie and changed It into the sport channel - there you go! Thats Better

"Well, at least hes not Girly anymore..." I said to myself. That couldnt console me for everything that was about to happen tho.

His stench was More and More strong, sometimes he wasnt getting showers or bath at all, and the one time i convince him to take a bath together saying we needed it something romantic (but being honest just needed him to get rid of the smell) he just...

-Hey, Babe, want me to turn this into a jacuzzi? - then he farted for like half of minute, flooding everything with its bubbles of stink

And as if that were not enough, he wasnt bottoming at all.

- "This ass Is your for farting, Bro"

With the Time i get he got sick of me trying to school him to being the educated cute bot he used to be, so he started saying i should join His team.

- "Maybe we can show you one thing or two of how to be a real Man"

It was devastated. Now i was the Girly one of the relationship, It seems.

And im tired, of the new him, of the new me, of the new us... So im doing something about It.

I walk to the training camp, ready for my first day in the team. Maybe he has reason. And he acept when I tried to change him, so... Maybe Is my turn.

I see my stud boyfriend pushing one of His buttcheeks while Lets out a really long fartp

PPPPRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTRRRFTFFFT

Liberates With a dumb face expresion while His mates laugh loudly like a Group of childs.

I sigh and take a sip of my protein shake, I don't want to embarrass him in front of his mates.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Tainted Past

Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader

A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')

Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.

Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,

"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."

"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."

"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.

"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.

"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.

"What?"

"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.

Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.

She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.

"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.

"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.

The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.

"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.

"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.

"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.

"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."

"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.

"I'm assuming you would need my name-"

"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."

Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...

Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.

Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.

"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.

As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.

Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...

ᗢ----------ᗢ

Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.

I just wanted to buy some ramen...

He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.

"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.

He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.

"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.

"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"

"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.

"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"

"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.

"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-

They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-

"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.

"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.

As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.

ᗢ----------ᗢ

They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-

"There you are!"

A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.

"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."

Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"

"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"

Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?

"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."

"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.

"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.

"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.

Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.

"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."

Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.

"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??

"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-

"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!

Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...

---

For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.

He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...

Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.

So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.

Eugh...

It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.

"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."

"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.

"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."

Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.

"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."

"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.

Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."

"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"

"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."

"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."

"How could I forget..."

"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."

He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.

"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."

ᗢ----------ᗢ

I am one mad son of a bitch.

They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-

"I'll be right there!"

Fuck!

Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."

"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."

Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"

They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.

The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...

"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.

Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.

And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.

"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.

If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.

"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"

Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."

It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."

"I love the Beatles."

"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.

She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.

Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.

The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"

They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."

Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-

Why am I thinking about her like this?

"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.

"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.

"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."

The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.

"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.

"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.

Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.

Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."

"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"

Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.

"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."

She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"

"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.

She's so cute when she laughs.

"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"

"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.

She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."

"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"

The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.

Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.

Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.

The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.

Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.

They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.

"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.

"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."

"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."

"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."

"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.

"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!

Smut next chapter homie? 👀

[daportalpractitioner]

mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part one — aries thru virgo

in a previous post, i mentioned that your mother's moon sign is very important in the sense that it tells us about the energy that was housing us during our prenatal development when we are baking in our mother's womb. during prenatal development, we are able to download our mother's experiences during pregnancy, emotions, attitudes, behaviors, and karmic patterns into our own DNA. the cosmic energy of her womb space tells us about patterns + themes that potentially lie dormant within our bodies with the desire to be either expressed or karmically released + healed for our highest good.

aries moon: your mother may have dealt with feeling misunderstood from a very early age due to her karmic responsibility to be a pioneer in this lifetime. even if she grew up close with her family, a part of her may have felt like she didn't fit in with the expectations that her parents had for her. the pain that aries moon mom carries in her womb stems from feeling like she has to do everything by herself + could also have had a pattern of attracting partners that she didn't feel supported by (classic single mom placement). a karmic lesson for aries moon mom to learn is to fully trust her feminine nature instead of constantly operating in her masculine so that she can attract the support that she has always desired since childhood. if you're a child of an aries moon mom, you could also have a pattern of experiencing loneliness + finding it difficult to cultivate supportive spaces because you witnessed your mom be so independent even in times where she didn't want to be. it's also not uncommon for children of aries moon mothers to exhibit or pass down disorganized attachment behaviors to their children. encourage each other to let other people help + support you. encourage each other to welcome vulnerability into the connection + value the act of processing/healthily releasing your emotions, especially rage.

taurus moon: mothers with an exalted moon usually do a great job at making their children feel safe, nurtured, and provided for on a physical + emotional level. when pregnant with you, your mother could have really valued her pregnancy + put lots of energy into preparing for your arrival. she could be very sensitive to your needs without even considering her own. from an early age, taurus moon mom had to learn to rely on herself to get things done first + foremost especially if she came from poverty or an unstable household. the self-esteem of your mother during pregnancy is crucial to your karmic imprint as you easily embed the way she feels about herself into your DNA + eventually grow to exhibit the same self-esteem patterns. it's important for the taurus moon mom to feel safe using her voice + exercising boundaries, especially when it comes to herself and what SHE needs. encourage each other to practice self-care + self-preservation. take yourselves out on nice mother/child dates. the key for taurus moon mom is to learn how to stop operating in survival mode, to welcome rest into her lifestyle + to not let motherhood become an experience that depletes her.

gemini moon: your mama may have dealt with a lot of movement (physical or mental) while pregnant with you, jumping from one place to another. the energy of a gemini moon's womb breeds natural chaos. focusing on tasks may have been a challenge for your mother, which tends to manifest into self-neglect due to being so preoccupied with the matters of the world. even if you haven't been diagnosed with ADD/ADHD or some form of neurodivergence, the expression of this mental energy can definitely be dormant in your DNA due your mother absorbing information to a hypersensitive degree during pregnancy. intentionality is key to foster a secure + safe relationship with a gemini moon mother as there is this tendency to develop preoccupied attachment patterns. make sure that you are really listening to each other instead of allowing words to go in one ear + out the other. communication goes a long way in cultivating a healthier relationship to mama. encourage each other to prioritize mental health + doing activities that feel nourishing to the brain (reading, writing, immersing selves in nature, art, etc). also, make sure that you're holding your gemini moon mother to her word if she is notorious for switching up.

cancer moon: your mother's pregnancy was undeniably significant to her on a karmically spiritual level. your ancestors, especially maternal, really do not play about you two as they protected your mother heavily when she carried you. giving birth to you was no mistake as your soul chose to expand her bloodline. cancer moon mothers may have went through their own personal issues with their mother (your grandma) that they hold resentment from in their wombs. these tensions are meant to be transmuted into breakthroughs for generational healing + curse breaking. her maternal instincts are her superpower, being able to guide you in any situation you need help in. even if you're not close with your cancer moon mom, her love does remain unconditional as she recognizes that you are a part of her + she is a part of you. even though mothering comes natural to the cancer moon mom, she easily could have felt the weight of motherhood + remained passive about how much of a responsibility it was, carrying all that load by herself. whether your mother was able to breastfeed you or not says a lot about the karmic disposition between you + your mama.

leo moon: your leo moon mother may have been super excited to be a mother yet also dealing with adjusting to the level of maturity required to be a mom. becoming a mother was probably not on her bingo card the year that you were conceived so the necessary growth that needed to take place was challenging + unexpected. motherhood may have triggered a sense of fear in your mother during her pregnancy with you because she didn't want to part with her youth just yet (classic teenage mom placement). regardless of her situation, she takes pride in being a mother + is very protective over her cub(s). she's the type of mother you can call to cuss out the school when there's an issue. i'd encourage you to keep her inner child alive + well by spending quality time doing things that make you both happy. leo moon mamas usually pass down at least one of their passions to their children, especially if they engaged with that passion during pregnancy. they love spending time with their children more than anything so don't be afraid to do something wild + fun that can free your mother's inner child. when your mom is connected to her inner child, it also connects her deeper to motherhood for she is able to relate to the experience of a child more + is able to distribute compassion to her child(ren) when needed.

virgo moon: it's not uncommon for virgo moon mothers to have experienced lots of angst when pregnant with you, especially if this was their first pregnancy. what isn't expressed + released in a healthy way stays trapped in the mind of the virgo moon mom, manifesting into anxiety. if anxiety was a theme for your mother while she was pregnant with you + it remained undealt with, then there's a big possibility that anxiety is something you've experienced on a chronic level as well. virgo moon mothers also deal with overcoming perfectionism — wanting to the perfect mother + projecting perfectionism onto her child(ren), so if you mother was hard on you growing up, that is why. if you are challenged by the illusions of not being good enough, this is probably something you've also picked up on from your mom during your time in her womb. but because of their will + dedication to be the best, virgo moon moms make very good caretakers as they are empathically connected to the needs of their children + are not satisfied until they can tell that their children are satisfied. even when virgo moon moms can be tough on their kids, remember that they are their own toughest critic + they really do mean well. i'd recommend being of service to your mother in any way that can lighten the load on her as virgo moon mothers tend to have a lot of their to-do lists. words of affirmation also goes a long way in gifting them peace of mind, especially from their children as they tend to be overthinkers when it comes to motherhood.

[love-takes-work]

I've seen a fair number of people interpret Rebecca Sugar's (and the Crew's) decision to put Ruby in a dress as subversive, and I want to discuss why that feels like a clear miss to me.

Every time--every single time--I've heard Rebecca Sugar talk about the queer relationships on this show, it comes with this expression of wholesomeness, and often glazed with a sheen of wistfulness, flavored something like "I needed this as a child and young person, and I didn't have it." Much of Rebecca Sugar's work to bring this wedding (and other unapologetic queer relationships) to the screen was framed as an emergency--as in, we HAVE to get this out there for those kids we used to be, because we know they're drowning.

Yes, it's funny sometimes when people make jokes about Sugar deliberately "adding more gay" or "making it gayer" as a big eff-you to the people who spoke against it, but that doesn't sit right from where I'm standing. It took so much strength (and resulted in so much battle damage) to fight that fight, yes. But from everything I can see from the interviews and conversations I've seen and read, this wasn't served up in a "ha-HA, take THAT!" kind of way. These characters having these kinds of relationships should have been a non-issue, and the fact that their very wholesome kids'-show wedding and very sweet kiss and very adorable love for each other was seen as Political when it should have been just two characters in love is so sad to me.

I've seen dozens of people suggest that Ruby is in a dress and Sapphire is in a suit "to fuck with the bigoted censors in other countries" or "to give the finger to gender roles," but again, I think it is simpler and sweeter than that. Rebecca's said that Ruby in a dress is how she feels in a dress. Celebration and exploration of feminine-coded stuff felt wrong to Rebecca for a long time, like it wasn't hers, because she wasn't really a woman and didn't want it forced on her. As a result she was robbed of all the beauty that should have been a non-issue, from what TV shows and toys she was supposed to enjoy as a kid to what kind of person she was supposed to marry and what she should wear as an adult.

Ruby never got a choice about how she looked really. Once she got to choose her presentation for a significant event, this is what she chose. It means so much more to see that than to construct it primarily as a reactionary measure, as if it would somehow foil the sinister censors in more homophobic countries (who, incidentally, are not therefore forced to show Ruby in a dress even though they tried to hide that Ruby was a "she" or that she was in a romantic relationship with another "she"; y'all, they just don't show the episode).

We see plenty of other examples of gender-role-related expectations being casually stepped on and squashed, like when they took the trouble to give traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine "clothes" to some watermelons to make the audience think there was a husband and wife watermelon only to have the wife be the warrior and the husband stay home with the child. With stuff like that, yeah, sure, maybe it's designed to make you think "oh isn't that very feminist of them!" Or maybe it's more "well why do I see this as a 'reversal' when it's just a thing that happened?" This show is full of ladyish beings who fight and have power. And as for Steven. . . .

Nobody has negative reactions onscreen (or even particularly confused reactions) when Steven wears traditionally feminine clothes, and it is (of course) also not presented as a "boy in a dress gag"--it's not supposed to be funny. When they go all in slathering Steven in literal princess tropes throughout the final act of Season 5, we understand that it's because the powerful Diamonds expect him to be Pink Diamond, not because the show is trying to girlify him or embarrass him or even make the audience think positive thoughts about boys in girls' clothes. It's more neutral than that in my interpretation: "these are literally just pieces of cloth, and while some of them have meaning, they don't inherently have a gender." I don't see this as transgressive. It's just in a world where putting on what you want to wear doesn't HAVE to be a political statement. (Though obviously it CAN be, and plenty of people wear a variety of clothes as a fuck-you to whoever they want to give the finger to. I just don't see that as happening here.)

Don't get me wrong; Rebecca Sugar certainly knew about the politics (intimately) and has lived at many of their intersections. She was not ignorant of how queer people are seen in this world. She was silenced as a bisexual person because her identity supposedly didn't matter if she was with a man and planned to be with that same man forever. She was shunted into "omg a woman did this!" categories over and over again, which she wore uneasily as a nonbinary person while accepting that part of who we are is how the world sees us. But what is it like if everything someone like her embraces is seen as a statement synonymous with "fuck you" to someone else?

She is married to a person who happens to be a man and happens to be Black. Her relationship isn't a "statement" about either of those aspects of his existence; her love is simply something that is. She is Jewish working in a society that's largely Christian. Her cultural perspective to NOT center her cartoon around Christian holidays and Christian morals; her choices to make an alternate world in this specific way is simply something that is. Her queer perspective as a nonbinary bisexual person has helped inform the Gems' radical philosophy of "what if we learned to explore and define ourselves instead of doing the 'jobs' we're assigned and being told it's our nature?" Her decision to include queer people in a broadly queer cartoon isn't designed PRIMARILY as a battle against baddies, or to drown out all the relentless straightness, or to deliciously get our queer little paws all over their kids' TV. It's an act of love.

So this is just to say that though I DO understand that sometimes subversion and intentional transgression are very necessary, I do not think that's the HEART of what's going on at this Gem wedding. We got a wholesome marriage scene between two of the most lovely little flawed-but-still-somehow-perfect characters, and I very much want to see their choices as being about them. About how Ruby feels in a dress. About how Sapphire feels about not having to always wear a dress. About them incorporating a symbol of their union into their separate lives so they can have some independence in their togetherness. About them celebrating their love by letting Steven wipe his schmaltz all over them.

There are many choices in the show that ARE carefully constructed to counter existing narratives, you know, giving the Crystal Gems' only boy all the healing, pink, flower imagery; having a single-sex species that's ladyish with all the members going by "she"; featuring many nurturing male characters who cry and cook and raise kids without mothers; pairing multiple fighty ladies with gentler guys; and importantly, intentionally loading up the show with stories, characters, and imagery any gender will find appealing despite being tasked with expectations to pander to the preteen boy demographic.

But it's very important to me that the inclusion of queer characters and the featuring of their choices be seen primarily as a loving act, and way way less of a "lol screw the bigots." I want our stories to be about us. Yes, I know it's a necessary evil that sometimes our stories are also about fighting Them. But every time I see someone say they put Ruby in the dress to "piss off the homophobes" or "stump the censors" I feel a little gross. Like the time I picked out an outfit I loved and my mom said I only dressed in such an obnoxious way to upset her, and I was baffled because my aesthetic choices, my opinions, my choices had nothing to do with her. Yet they were framed like I chose these clothes primarily to cause some kind of petty harm to her, when not only was it not true but I was not even that kind of person who would gloat over intentionally irritating someone.

The queerness of this show isn't a sneaky, underhanded act trying above all to upset a bigot or celebrate someone's homophobic fury. It lives for itself. Its existence is about itself. It's so we can see ourselves in a show, and it's so people who aren't queer or don't have those experiences can see that we exist, we participate, we want very similar things, and definitely are focusing way more about celebrating our love at our own weddings rather than relishing the thought of bigots tearing their hair out and hating us.

It's dangerous to turn every act of our love into a deliberate movement in a battle strategy when their weddings just get to be weddings.

I think there’s this idea that that [queer characters] is something that applies or should be only discussed with adults that is completely wrong. And I think when you realize that talking to kids about heteronormativity is just like air that you breathe all the time, it’s kind of amazing that that is not true in any other capacity. I think if you wait to tell kids, to tell queer youth that it matters how they feel or that they are even a person, then it’s going to be too late! You have to talk about it—you have to let it be what it gets to be for everyone. I mean, like, I think about, a lot of times I think about sort of fairy tales and Disney movies and the way that love is something that is ALWAYS discussed with children. And I think also there’s this idea that’s like, oh, we should represent, you know, queer characters that are adults, because there are adults that are queer, and you should know that’s something that is happening in the adult world, but that’s not how those films or those stories are told to children. You’re told that YOU should dream about love, about this fulfilling love that YOU’RE going to have. […] The Prince and Snow White are not like someone’s PARENTS. They’re something you want to be, that you are sort of dreaming of a future where you will find happiness. Why shouldn’t everyone have that? It’s really absurd to think that everyone shouldn’t get to have that! --Rebecca Sugar

[vivacissimx]

The puzzle piece about Rhaegar that is really interesting but unfortunately often overlooked is that he was relieved when he realized he was not TPTWP. Yes, relieved. Conflicted too which I will get into. And I believe it is obvious that when Rhaegar first read about Aegon's prophecy, he was not enthused— It seems I must be a warrior is trotted out to talk about Rhaegar's gender expression, his disconnect with capital m Masculinity that is purposely contrasted to Robert Baratheon reveling in it (indeed only making sense within the context of violence, battle, war) but there is more to the compulsion involved in the words It seems and I must than just It seems I must become an archetype. Socially becoming a fighter was already expected of him but he was not, presumably, in compliance with this expectation. The prophecy motivated him in a different way than you will be socially rewarded for acting as a man does.

Which brings me to another point i.e. how Rhaegar perceived himself prior to reading what he read; his connection to the tragedy of his birth and the grief, the resentment, the awkward dynamics between members of his family. "Oh he was a child" yes but we're told that Rhaegar did not act like, think like, or even particularly get along with others his age. So it's safe to say he was aware of Summerhall and felt it's shadow surrounding him from a young age. And Aegon's prophecy, combined with the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy, the events of Summerhall, put this weight on his shoulders completely into context. It was not that Rhaegar desired to be TPTWP because he took to it with determination but no particular joy. Every indicator just seemed to demand he give himself over to fulfilling this role. TPTWP was coming from Aerys and Rhaella's line? Well, he was their only child. Consult Maester Aemon on the matter? Yeah kid it's you. Ancient scrolls? Dusty, but they agree. Dead ancestors? Oh wait, they died so YOU could live. Woah.

This understanding basically necessitates us looking to ASOS Daenerys who also has some knowledge of TPTWP prophecy, and thanks to the Rhaegar-Daenerys pipeline, we can imagine that Rhaegar had similar thoughts to Daenerys, such as when she asks herself: The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. Who are Rhaegar's fellow two heads? Daenerys wonders at this, telling Jorah that her brothers are dead. Well Rhaegar's brothers die too, right in front of him. Rhaella suffers miscarriage after stillbirth after crib death. She is punished for this by Aerys via isolation and presumably Rhaegar is also kept separate from her— textually we know that Rhaegar was expected to take a sister to bride, i.e. further targcest was going to be enforced by Aerys, and to Rhaegar the loss would have also been of the other two people who would have fulfilled the requirements of the prophecy. Yes that's true. However, it was also the loss of his mother.

Rhaella was 13 when she had Rhaegar so it would be ridiculous to even think that she, a child, a Queen from when Rhaegar was 3, was this grand maternal figure to him. Of course she wasn't. There was too much on her shoulders. Too much on Aerys's shoulders as well, to be any sort of father except the kind who trotted Rhaegar out as an impressive little heir from time to time. Rhaegar was Aerys's success (it's the duty of the patriarch to sire sons who will continue the line) but as Rhaegar's siblings failed to survive, that success became a dicey thing. So when Viserys was born & survived, there is a thought that Rhaegar would latch onto such a sibling. This isn't the case— in fact, Viserys is Rhaella's. She coddles him. Keeps him close. Safe from Aerys (who already has Rhaegar). Viserys tells Dany stories about Rhaegar but this is done in the sense that he does not truly know Rhaegar. Why wouldn't Rhaegar have spent more time with Viserys, if he was motivated by fulfillment of the prophecy?

Because Viserys was Rhaella's, perhaps. Rhaegar never truly got to be his mother's son. To leech Viserys away from her... there's something in that. When Rhaella warmly welcomed Rhaegar's daughter, too. Rhaella's was Aerys's wife and property, which Rhaegar knew because he was also Aerys's property. Rhaella was mother to his brother. Rhaella was a grandmother to his daughter. She was everything but the woman who raised him.

"Rhaegar was a lonely man anyway due to his depression" yes that's true. There is an asceticism to Rhaegar Targaryen. The places he enjoys are bare and stripped, places he can keep his own company: Summerhall, the place of his birth, haunted, full of magic. Dragonstone where he retreats after his marriage, a place where the last embers of Valyria's magic died. Later the Tower of Joy is in a barren desert. But he finds a beauty in these places. He writes music that pushes him back into the shared world, songs he shares with people, about people, about lovers and those who sacrificed and who he is deeply moved by— almost like he's motivating himself. People are drawn to him.

Despite his lack of connection to Rhaella and Viserys he does bond with people. Arthur Dayne, who for all we can try and complicate, apply horseshoe theory to, is meant as the juxtaposition to characters such as the Smiling Knight. Brave as brass Myles Mooton whose memory his people still call upon. Richard Lonmouth and Jon Connington, both technically vassals to Robert Baratheon, funny little irony there. Princess Elia his wife who he is fond of along with the Dornishmen she comes to court with, "particularly" Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard, who is in Rhaegar's confidence (per AWOIAF). These bonds seem strong because not a whiff of possible disloyalty on Rhaegar's part ever reaches Aerys despite it definitely existing and Aerys actively looking for it (again per AWOIAF). Do these confidantes know about Aegon's prophecy? IDK. At least in JonCon's case the answer seems to be no. However we also know JonCon wasn't actually the closest to Rhaegar. Nonetheless, I think we can assume that outside of Arthur Myles and Richard most of these were political relationships which Rhaegar pursued and all were concerned about Aerys's instability— there is also Tywin who Rhaegar performs certain overtures towards (such as knighting Gregor, Tywin's man, at a time when the Aerys-Tywin relationship had just grown particularly sour) indicating he'd like him as an ally. This is all straying away from TPTWP but I think it's important, it shows that even imbued with purpose, Rhaegar was in a position that did not lend itself towards him being able to take much action...

Then winter breaks. Spring comes. Nobody knows it's false yet. Rhaegar's whole deal is this coming Long Night. Everyone takes, quite literally, a breath of fresh air, and the tourney of Harrenhal commences, with Rhaegar as a shadow sponsor, thinking to call an informal Great Council which will begin to deal with Aerys (step 1)(step 1 failed).

This is where matters of prophecy come back into focus. I've covered Rhaegar's various relationships, the shallowness of them, the stagnancy in Developments due to Aerys's paranoia, etc. Harrenhal is not a solitary place but it is flush with magic in a way similar to Summerhall and Dragonstone— all places where dragons have died Harrenhal is thematically the cannibal dragon let's not get into that. And this is important to Rhaegar's characterization because of how things unfold with Lyanna Stark in several ways: 1) Lyanna cries to his song. Before they formally meet Lyanna is touched by the magic and purpose and sacrifice and yes, love, of which Rhaegar sings. It speaks to her. Of course, many others likely cried too. Common occurrence, see: A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course. Rhaegar gender moment but I digress. 2) Rhaegar's discovery of her as the KOTLT despite Robert & Richard Lonmouth both vowing to do so, those raucous manly men, both of whom failed; Rhaegar's subsequent hiding of her identity to unknown consequence for himself if any. All he produces is her shield which is painted with a tree on it, a purposeful callback to Duncan the Tall's shield, both Lyanna and Dunk being 'false knights' yet, in their actions, true ones. Sorry I love Lyanna so much I can't resist plugging her greatest hits 3) Rhaegar winning the tourney, the only tourney he's ever won... and immediately tainting his victory by awarding it to Lyanna instead.

I bring this all up and frame it because here we see that Rhaegar is not really invested in his own victory or legacy or even really his honor. His wife Princess Elia is there and she is pregnant with his son, something he could commemorate in the same vein that Aerys "honored" Rhaegar by showcasing him at various tourneys, an ode to a future warrior king, but Rhaegar doesn't do that. It's not his victory as a Man. It's never been about his victory as a Man. It doesn't even need to be his victory.

Neither does Aegon's prophecy. Rhaegar rapidly realizes that on two fronts: second, the false spring ends. It wasn't real! Rhaegar's spring isn't the lasting one. First, though, is that Rhaegar and Elia's son Aegon is born, a difficult birth in which Elia is rendered infertile. Who does this remind you of? Oh right, Aerys with Rhaella— only Rhaegar does not go about trying to impregnate Elia again. Rhaegar becomes convinced Aegon is TPTWP— something he was already thinking, prior. Rhaegar was never so invested in himself being TPTWP that he could not be convinced otherwise. Maester Aemon: Rhaegar, I thought... the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. Rhaegar agreeing "when he was young" and being "certain the bleeding star had to be a comet" all indicate that he had been looking into the possibility that TPTWP was Not Him for a while. The visits to Summerhall— maybe they were a search for proof by encasing himself in the lingering magic of the place? He still messed up the prince/princess translation presumably because baby Rhaenys never seemed to be in the conversation. (The bleeding star was in fact a comet, funnily enough, a little consolation prize for the pretty boy.) Here's what we know: in Daenerys's vision, Elia asks if Rhaegar will write Aegon a son, we can assume because he wrote their firstborn Rhaenys a song, but Rhaegar says no, he already has one. The song of ice and fire. Aegon doesn't get a song. Why? Rhaegar believes he must be a warrior.

Yet, he sings for him anyway.

Rhaegar's "it seems" and "I must" and distance from Viserys and inner conflict about Aerys and doubt about his own place in the grand scheme of things all come to fruition with Aegon's birth. Rhaegar isn't TPTWP— and it spurs him into action. A weight is off his shoulders so now he can act. As in the case of crowning Lyanna, when the purpose of a task is not to honor or elevate him, we see Rhaegar able to perform in ways he could not before.

Namely there are two veins: acting against Aerys and seeking out information of the prophecy, but Rhaegar's general direction (through the Riverlands past Harrenhal) seems to indicate that he was headed towards the Ghost of High Heart. Not Summerhall, a place of mysticism meant to soothe Rhaegar. Rather a place of pain. The Ghost of High Heart who gorged on grief at Summerhall, who only ever demands Jenny's song (which Rhaegar seems to have wrote), who sees in Arya who looks like Lyanna, who looks like Jon, death. But instead of ever making it there... Rhaegar meets Lyanna.

And then they disappear. There are the Rhaegarwars to consider so I'm just going to say that, at the least, Lyanna did not want to marry Robert though society dictated that she must, and in removing her, she was removed from this. From there she came to be in Dorne in a place that was desolate desert, but similar to Summerhall, which was also abandoned, held something of magic in that it was near where Those Who Sing The Song of the Earth had split the Arm of Dorne. We can say a lot more about this but that's not the point of the post. I have explained Rhaegar as a person disconnected from his mother, later a person who in several manners refuses to act as Aerys did towards Rhaella, indicating that disconnect troubled him — Rhaegar's limited amount of close relationships with people he admired and the deep loyalty shown to him, presumably for a reason — Rhaegar's willingness to interrogate himself & his assumptions about the world.

So when I say Rhaegar was relieved what I mean is that upon suspecting and, to his mind, confirming that he was not the fulfillment of Aegon's prophecy, Rhaegar became proactive in ways he had yearned for but not been able to before. The Rhaegar that died with Lyanna's name as his last word was not a Rhaegar who died thinking the world was doomed without him. I think the Rhaegar that died on the Trident was a Rhaegar who had escaped the shadow of fate only to meet it, face to face.

[icyg4l]

PAC: How Does Your Higher Self Define Womanhood?

Hello, beautiful people. Today marks the last post of the Women’s History Month series & one of two posts made today! I am excited to continue to create content for you guys. And I am even more grateful for the support I have received as of lately. Because of this, I will continue to post creative tarot readings. So, without further ado, please pick your pile.

Left-to-Right: (1-4)

Pile 1: Pile One, your story reminds me of the Miss Congeniality plot. Basically, Sandra Bullock plays a detective that goes undercover as a beauty pageant contestant. At first, she rejects the ideas of what it means to be a “girly girl” but eventually conforms to the standards. She viewed femininity as a sign of weakness and did not like being around other women because she felt that she had to prove herself to be tough. But she gained respect for the girls who worked in these pageants as she worked undercover because she began to acknowledge the hard work it takes to be in the pageants. By the end, she is closer to her womanhood. You have a similar story. I doubt that you’re a detective reading this but I feel as though you may have the tendency to thoroughly investigate any piece of information. To your higher self, womanhood means constantly being on the search for answers to placate the inner child wounds that lie within you. I feel like when you were younger, you may have been an outcast or a tomboy, maybe both. Because of this, you have set a lifelong quest to figure out what being a woman means to you whether it is intentional or not. Your higher self wants you to know that being a woman comes with all types of trauma, but remembering that you do not have to face it alone. You do not have to carry the burdens alone. You see, women are conditioned to be demure for the sake of keeping the peace but that’s not what works for you. Embrace the messy parts of yourself because if you don’t, life will get boring. Part of your mission is being aware of your multifaceted nature; reject conformity, embrace the abnormal, babe.

Cards Used: The Sun, 4 of Cups, 4 of Swords, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, The Magician, 5 of Cups, 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords.

Signs: Aquarius, Libra, Leo, Sagittarius.

extras: money getter. cash grabs. “low hanging fruit.” airhead. wallpaper. phineas and ferb. “sharon.” beetles. s.o.s. by rihanna. “tinge of an accent.” sweet. mirrors. coconut trees. hawaii. stubborn. radioactive.

Pile 2: Pile Two, there is a similar vibe that you have to Pile One, except I don’t think that you have problems with accepting your femininity. I think that you have problems with how masculines function in society. I am sensing a Lori Harvey type of energy here. This is likely related to the way that you operate when it comes to love. People tend to want to possess you so that they can show you off like a trophy. But your higher self wants you to know the difference between users and the genuine thing. I feel like you’ve developed this flighty persona to protect yourself from harm. While experiencing the many tribulations of womanhood, you have adopted the “flights over feelings” type of mindset. How has that been working out for you? No, really. Is it actually working or have you convinced yourself that it has. As a woman, your higher self thinks that womanhood is finding love in a loveless world. This isn’t necessarily about romance, but it’s just a mindset that you should adopt. It will save you from falling victim to the cycles of toxicity that plague society. It’s a cold world out here, babe but it doesn’t mean that you have to be as cold as the world. Part of your mission is forgiving yourself and those who hurt you so that you can see the beauty in the world. With this newfound sight of beauty, there comes true inner power.

Cards Used: The Devil, 7 of Discs (RX), 8 of Wands, The Hierophant, 3 of Swords, 3 of Cups, 10 of Discs, The Star, 10 of Cups (RX).

Signs: Capricorn, Cancer, Scorpio, Virgo.

extras: two can play that game. all about love by bell hooks. renegade. open arms. country music lover. tony montana. archer (2009). “logan.” phoenix rising. “marcus.” ashy. corny. cerebellum. stupendous.

Pile 3: Pile Three, your higher self defines womanhood as something that is both sweet and sour. It is something that she takes for granted but it is also something that she takes pride in. It’s a strength but also a weakness. I feel like I am talking to someone who has an ingenue/youthful spirit. I channeled the character Darla from The Little Rascals but I also channeled Charlotte from Princess and the Frog. You seem to be very in tune with your inner child and there is nothing wrong with that. Your inner child is heavily protected by the teenaged version of yourself, which seems very angry. These different versions of yourself often clash with one another, which can lead to bouts of depression and confusion. Your higher self is a woman who pours into herself through movement and self-expression. You need to channel these negative energies into creativity or else you will be stifled by your own thoughts. You honestly need to get out of your head. Your higher self feels as though there is a flip side to every coin that you get. For example, if you are having period pains, it may hurt but at least you’re not pregnant! Looking on the brighter side of life is how you can be closer to your higher self.

Cards Used: 5 of Swords, 6 of Swords, Page of Swords, Justice, 4 of Cups, Ace of Cups, Ace of Discs, 5 of Wands, The Hanged Man.

Signs: Leo, Pisces, Aries, Gemini.

extras: janet jackson. “i’m da man.” we will rock you. parties. diva. elle magazine. shapely. “how’d you figure?” honest answers only. maya angelou. glorilla. lola bunny. fatigue. body aches. deodorant. small bowls. annual. prayers. mark on the cheek. boot camp. “your highness.” shredded cheese. livelihood.

Pile 4: And last but not least, Pile Four. I feel like you are well sought after in the most lusty way possible. This has its perks, but lately, you feel like it has more cons than anything. I feel like you’re someone who always seems to feel isolated because of this. As a result, your higher self views womanhood as foreign. The amount of power that you hold as a woman is beyond explanation. There are so many ways that you can present yourself, Pile Four. I don’t think you have realized your true potential. Yes, you have gone through trauma because people assumed that you could handle the weight of the world but this means nothing to your spirit. Wake up! Don’t you realize how unique you are? Pile Four, womanhood can really only be defined by you, not by anyone else. The prioritization of yourself will help you make a name for yourself. You could be in your 20s, tired and just wanting a change. Well, your higher self wants you to know that change will come once you begin to change the narrative yourself. If you believe something about yourself that was told to you by someone else, then it means that you’re easily moldable. Being a woman means rising to the top even through the facings of opposition. You are a fighter. So the question is: when are you going to jump in the ring and fight for your sense of self, Pile Four.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups, Queen of Wands, 3 of Discs, Knight of Discs, Ten of Swords, 4 of Discs, The Hermit, Queen of Swords, 9 of Discs.

Signs: Gemini, Pisces, Cancer, Virgo.

extras: “tart.” “fresh out the shower.” burgundy. melons. net worth. SWer. dollar bills. illegal documents. molly. friendless. stoned. be your own boss. cake baker. sister, sister. wiseman. silly goose. fall. saturn.

[verus-veritas]

Died and Gone to Heaven

Reworked caption story by RookCaps

"Welcome back to heaven, Atreus." The enormous scantily clothed man boomed. Jeremy had just awoken after he thought he had died saving a man by pushing him from the path of a bus hurtling towards him.

"Who... who are you?" Jeremy asked. His voice was not his own, it had a deep and masculine quality to it that was totally alien to him.

"Ah, amnesia - I am Kyrion, King of The Gods. Don't worry my son, it is normal to have temporary memory loss after living as a mortal for so long."

Son? Mortal? Is this man a god? Who is this Atreus person? Jeremy thought as he looked down for the first time, seeing the absolutely perfect adonis body below him covered only by a simple fabric that would not be considered appropriate by even the most risqué individual. Oh my god! I must be this Atreus. The hospital must have me on some crazy drugs for me to be tripping like this.

"Oh my son, my prince, I can see you are distraught. Here, I will bring you to your quarters to recover." The huge man grabbed hold of Jeremy, lifting him effortlessly. Jeremy felt like a child being cradled in Kyrion's arms.

The God King left Jeremy in a room nearby. Overwhelmed, he lay down to sleep, trying to avoid thinking about the odd yet incredible sensations coming from his god-like body. As Jeremy drifted off to sleep, he hoped he would reawaken free from this crazy fever dream.

— This must be real then. I've tried to find a more sensible explanation but all evidence points to the crazy fact that I am now in possession of this heavenly body. Jeremy had awoken to find himself still in the prince of gods, Atreus's body. He ran his hands all over those perfectly sculpted muscles, every touch leaving his new body feeling invigorated and powerful. As he grabbed his thickened and hardened manhood and thrust into it, he let out a powerful roar while golden semen coated his entire chest. After some more incredibly pleasurable self exploration of his new body he had turned to trying to find out what had happened.

He looked around his bare room for information but could not find any information at all. It was only when he walked to look in the mirror that he realized that it wasn't merely a mirror at all. It seemed to be a magical artefact of some kind, displaying whatever information he wished to see. It was there that he had learned more about this new domain. He found that Gods and Goddesses were in fact real. They had created humanity as an experiment and entertained themselves by interfering with the mortals as they saw fit. All human religion was based on one or many of the Deity's that existed in this heaven. Recently, the last couple thousand years, Kyrion had restricted Gods and Goddesses from interfering with humans directly - only he was allowed to do so and he chose to do so rarely. Punishment for Gods consisted of banishing them to live as mortals temporarily, usually for one to fifteen lifetimes. There were only 138 Gods and Goddesses, reproduction is strictly controlled by the God King.

After the brief history lesson on what seemed to be the origin of all religion Jeremy knew of, he turned to trying to figure out how he even ended up here. He found he was in the body of Prince Atreus, son of God King Kyrion. Atreus would inherit the throne if Kyrion was to die. No God had died since Kyrion had taken control, as only a Godkiller weapon could end a God's life and the new regulations put in place had prevented such weapons from being created.

Jeremy wondered if this magic mirror artefact could recall the accident that had led to this whole situation, when he had pushed that man out of the way of the bus. The mirror immediately responded to his thoughts, displaying the street he had been on that day. Just before the bus barrelled towards the oblivious hunk, who appeared to be a more human version of his current body, time slowed down.

He saw a gold glowing beam extending vertically above the scene of the impending accident, the handsome man had a silvery ethereal trail extending from his body - slowly being pulled up by the golden light. Jeremy saw himself shove the man out of the way, splatting into a bloody mess on the pavement. The man's silvery soul floated back into his muscular body while a similar, albeit much dimmer, blue ethereal mist left Jeremy’s broken body. His own soul was vacuumed up where Atreus's had meant to go.

Jeremy sat down, realizing the gravity of the situation. Should he tell Kyrion that he was not the son he appeared to be? Should he just keep quiet? He wasn't sure how the Gods would react if they knew a mortal was now in possession of one of their immortal bodies.

Distraught, he sat down in the chair beside him. He felt an odd solid object press against his beefy leg. Pulling at the cushion, he found a small glowing dagger hidden beneath the folds. Gripping it he felt an awesome power flowing through it. What does this mean?

Jeremy noticed a blinking emerald crystal in the hilt of the dagger. He rubbed his rugged finger across the gem, a strange gold light emanated from the crystal, producing an ethereal message in the air:

Mortal,

I was able to place your soul in the Prince's body without the detection of the

immortals. Not even your new father, the tyrannical Tyrion, has realized my deception. For one thousand years I have plotted his demise so I can take control as I deserved. He is the bastard son of Khronus, not me! I have one simple task for you, mortal. If you succeed, I will leave you in Atreus's body to rule by my side as my personal guard. You will no longer be a mere mortal, but a god. My task is simple, use the dagger I have left for you and plunge it into Kyrion's heart. I have scheduled a meeting with him this evening. You will join the meeting and murder him while he is distracted. He will never suspect his dim-witted son to betray him. Do this, and you will be rewarded.

Mishara, God of Deception

Jeremy didn't know what to do. The offer was enticing, he could be a god!. He just wasn't sure if he wanted to give up his integrity to be immortal, and he definitely didn't want to be this power-hungry Mishara's personal plaything.

He had only been among the gods for a day and he was already involved in their murderous and aristocratic politics. How could these super beings be so primitive? I guess we are created in their image, but we seemed to have evolved past this archaic style of government, Jeremy thought.

Hours later, Jeremy accompanied God King Kyrion to meet Mishara. Jeremy observed the two arguing about the state of human-god affairs. He could tell that this debate had been had before.

When the debate became more heated, Kyrion arose to his massive height to look down upon the God of Deception. His back was turned to Jeremy, so this was his opportunity to kill the king and keep this god-like body for himself.

He removed the dagger that had been hidden underneath the fabrics and raised it above his head.

Jeremy hesitated for a moment, thinking about what he intended to do, then stepped past Kyrion and plunged the God Killer dagger into Mishara's chest. Mishara's face twisted in shock, shouting, "You traitorous mortal!" The god fell to the ground, life leaving him as golden blood flowed from his chest.

"What have you done, Atreus? What mortal was Mishara talking about?" Kyrion asked with an edge to his voice, he did not know why his dim-witted son had done what he had done. Not trusting himself to speak, Jeremy poked the dagger's emerald; Mishara's message reappeared for Kyrion to read.

"So you are not my son, you are a human? I am surprised a mere human did not give in to their greed to steal an immortal body. You are more just than many gods, as evidenced by Mishara's betrayal. You deserve a reward." The God King rubbed his chin. "You will take my son's place as prince, heir to the throne."

"What! But what about your son? He will die a mortal?" Jeremy asked, as he questioned if immortality really was worth the freedom.

"Was being a mortal so bad that a god should not live as one? Atreus was not suited for the throne, he was as dim and stubborn as he was handsome and strong; he is better suited to be a mortal man. He had voluntarily become mortal as a vacation from the pressure of his position. He abandoned his duty as prince; no, you are humble and just, more fit for the throne than he ever could be."

Jeremy knew he could not argue with the God King, he had to accept what he had been given. He was now Atreus, God and Prince, heir to the throne of gods and goddesses. It would not take long before he came to love the glory of his immaculate body of a literal god. His to enjoy for the foreseeable eternity.

Hey everyone! Hope you've all been well! As for myself I've been feeling better health-wise, and I'm finally getting more time for writing again! I can assure you that the writing itch never left my body, as I've made a list of stories I'm planning on finishing in the foreseeable future! Stay tuned, guys! /Verus

[devildomwriter]

A Newborn Queen | Diavolo x Reader

.7K Words | AFAB! Reader | CW: mentions of labor, Diavolo and reader have childten

Every generation the Devil had a son. The son grew up, became the devil himself and their bride or lover birthed them a son or two. That’s how it always had been and how it was expected to always be. Until you. You and Diavolo had already had a son and were delighted to find you were expecting another child. Expecting a son, because anything else was unheard of, you didn’t bother with a gender reveal test.

You gripped Diavolo’s hand in pain of labor. Despite all the magic placed upon you to ease your suffering, the one who gave birth to the child of the devil was doomed to suffer pain. You knew this and accepted it, Diavolo grieved for your pain, he hated to see how you shouted in pain.

Finally, after what felt like far too long, your child arrived. Diavolo moved from your side, grabbing a blanket so he could be the first to hold your child.

The doctor gasped and yours and Diavolo’s hearts skipped, panicked something had gone wrong. But you heard the baby’s cries and sighed in relief. Diavolo, however, was still astounded.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, frightened and Diavolo shook his head to ease your nerves.

He kissed the child wrapped in a blanket in his arms and tears fell down his cheeks as he smiled. He looked at you with more love and adoration in his eyes than you’d ever seen.

He walked to you and dismissed the doctor and nurses as he sat next to you.

“___, meet our daughter.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you looked at him with as much shock as he’d had. “A girl? She’s really a girl?” Your eyes welled with tears too.

You never thought you’d have a girl. It was unheard of and Diavolo had told you as much. The fact you’d had a child at all was a blessing since conception between demons was so rare. But now you had both a son and a daughter.

Diavolo unwillingly handed your daughter to you for you to hold against your chest. Your mind raced with thoughts of wonder. How incredible was it that you’d really had a daughter?

Diavolo held you close, incredibly proud of you for enduring birth and more in love than ever that you’d blessed him with a daughter.

There was a knock on the door from Barbatos and he was allowed in.

In his arms was your two-year-old son, Chao who stretched out his arms for you. Diavolo stood up and grabbed his son, holding him against him.

Barbatos approached your side with permission and stared in delight at the child.

“Have you decided on his name?” He asked and you and Diavolo gave each other a look and grinned.

“Actually, we haven’t decided on her name just yet,” Diavolo beamed with emphasis on ‘her.’

Barbatos stiffened in shock. For a demon who could see the past and future it was rare to give him such a surprise.

His shock faded to delight and he beamed as though he were the parent himself. “This is a most wonderful surprise,” he exclaimed.

Diavolo nodded and held Chao closer to his little sister. Chao had expected a brother and you suspected it’d take him time to understand he had a sister instead.

“What do we name our Princess?” Diavolo asked as Chao rested peacefully in his arms.

You shook your head, unsure. “I hadn’t even considered girl names.”

Diavolo nodded as it was the same for him. “Chao means chaos…what about something similar for her?”

Chao looked at his dad, hearing his name, and began grabbing at his horns. Diavolo let him, to keep him calm as he discussed this with you.

You thought for a few minutes and you bounced names off each other. “Discord?” Diavolo thought aloud and you shook your head, the nam was too masculine sounding. Suddenly it hit you.

“I’ve got it,” you announced excitedly. “Disarray.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened and he thought about it. He grinned and nodded, “I love it. We can call her Ray for short.” He suggested and you nodded.

“Ray,” Chao babbled and you and Diavolo grinned and nodded.

“Yes, Chao. This is your baby sister, Ray.”

Eventually, Chao grew bored and Barbatos took him away so you and Diavolo could share in your joy. You fell asleep against Diavolo, exhausted from labor and he kissed your head as he cradled your daughter in his arms.

[gatheringbones]

[“I told my mother I thought I might be trans in a lengthy and overly apologetic email, which she didn’t quite know how to respond to. From her perspective, my transition had popped up out of nowhere, with no prior warning signs. She was convinced I had been brainwashed into transitioning, and agreed to meet my counsellor for a joint meeting with me, primarily to meet the person she felt had brainwashed her child into transitioning.

My mother describes her first meeting with me presenting as Laura as very difficult for her, due in no small part to her inability to see me as anything but her very traditionally masculine son in a dress. For a while she knew but did not talk to my father, which she found very difficult. She told me years later that she went through a period of mourning, feeling like her child had died, and that she was left with a stranger she did not know. It put a lot of strain on her, and on our relationship as parent and child.

Why the assumption I was brainwashed? Because of autism infantilisation.

Before we talk more about my journey coming out as transgender, we have to rewind a little bit to something else that went on at around the same point in my life: my diagnosis of Asperger’s. By the time my mother attended that appointment and met me as Laura for the first time, I had already been diagnosed with Asperger’s, which was part of the reason she was so worried about me. She was not aware of any statistical link between autism and gender dysphoria, and in her eyes I was a vulnerable young person with an autism spectrum condition who was being manipulated into transition because I was easily swayed, or lacking in ability to assess my feelings on the matter properly for myself. This is depressingly common: an adult’s assumption that having an autism spectrum condition means you’re incapable of proper self-understanding, or that you’re susceptible to being manipulated into believing things about yourself that you did not previously. You’re not trusted as being of sound mind to make choices about your own life, out of fear you’ve been manipulated.

Speaking to my mother years later, now she has somewhat settled down and got used to me going by Laura and female pronouns, she told me that her biggest fear, and the primary reason she agreed to attend that first joint session together, was that, as a youth with Asperger’s, my therapist was influencing me into believing that I was trans. She feared it was some kind of brainwashing that my gullible mind could not resist the allure of, rather than believing my own account of what I was experiencing.

I also faced this same issue with doctors when trying to access medical support through the NHS. I would have general practitioners, mental health doctors and gender specialists alike raise an eyebrow when I acknowledged my Asperger’s diagnosis, and then proceed to take plenty of extra time asking me lengthy questions about how my autism symptoms manifested, to ensure I was of sound enough mind to make permanent choices about my body. Apart from the obvious infantilisation of people with conditions like Asperger’s on display there, I always just explained it as being like the decision to get a tattoo. I am an adult, over the age of 18, who has been deemed sober and mentally sound, and as such I have every right to permanently inject colours into my skin that may never go away. Why should I not be trusted to take slow-acting meds that are somewhat easier to reverse? Still, the fact I had to fight to be believed that I was mentally sound enough to make that choice says a lot about misunderstandings about autism spectrum conditions, but highlights that to assert that transition is unique in the permanent nature of its change to the body is completely inaccurate.”]

laura kate dale, from uncomfortable labels: my life as a gay autistic trans woman