#beast is about showing how the people around you help you grow - for better or for worse - and changing even just one person

[zukkaoru]

i am once again astounded at the bsd fandom's ability to make everything about skk when, in fact, it has very little to do with skk

[denimbex1986]

'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”

...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.

“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”

“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?

It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.

Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.

That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.

In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.

It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?

It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.

Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?

Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.

Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?

They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.

Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?

It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]

Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?

I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.

There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?

There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.

Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?

Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.

To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.

Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.

Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.

I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?

I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.

Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?

Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.

[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]

I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…

I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”

[xxspringmelodyxx]

Betrayal (II)~

Zhongli (Morax) x Reader (Angst) Pt II Hello, my lovely readers! I’m going to keep this short, but basically, it's been a good while since you have seen Morax. During this time, you have learned how to improve yourself by fighting other creatures from harming other towns, specifically smaller ones. You noticed a pattern between all of the animals you have fought so far, however. They all had similar features, which you will see. You currently are on another mission to stop one of these types of animals but get an unexpected visit. 

I grunted as I plunged my sword deep into the shadowy animal, twisting it to ensure that the monster did not make it out alive. It whimpered with high pitched noises as it wriggled around, trying to bite me. I looked at its deep, smokey red eyes as they started to fade to a deep black. The smoke that surrounded its body began to dissipate as well, showing that it was quickly dying. 

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew that there had been a sudden uprise in these types of creatures. 

It had been almost a year and a half since you had spoken to Morax, and during that time, you worked on making yourself stronger and more powerful. You have managed to save many people and small towns and cities from these creatures. But the weird thing about them was that they all had the same red, mystical eyes with a black smokey figure. But no matter what, they were hurting others, and that was something you wanted to stop.

“You can’t hurt anyone else any longer.” You spoke, lifting your sword up and out of the wolf's body and wiping its blood on your elbow guard.

Once the creature went limp, you knew it was over. The wolf that kept harming others was now gone and would no longer impact their lives ever again. 

You placed your hand on the animal, causing flowers and grass to grow over it, hiding it away. You then turned on your heel and went to go see the small town to tell them the good news. About a week ago, you received a note from an anonymous person, begging you to help their poor town from a killer beast that continuously destroyed their farms and killed some of their people. You weren’t sure how they found out where you were, especially because you always help others anonymously, but nevertheless, you couldn’t stay back and let some creature hurt others.

And it was a good thing they reached out to you. Once you had gotten to the town, it was totally run down. Everyone was severely injured by the animal, and many were dead as well. Their crops had been completely destroyed and their water supply was damaged. 

You remembered a little girl running up to you, thanking you for coming. She told you she was the one who sent the message and that she knew you were strong enough to help. She had asked for other Archons to come help, but she either got rejected or just simply ignored. You were a blessing to her, and she definitely tried to prove that to you. She continuously tried to give you gifts such as food, the small amounts of money she could collect, or even her small amount of toys. You of course denied all of them, telling her that you appreciated it, but you didn’t need anything in return. 

Once you had found out the terrors these poor people had faced, you knew you needed to help them. And so, you tracked down this monster and made a plan to stop it once and for all.

Now, we are back to you going back to the small town to tell them that they no longer have to live in fear.

However, before you could get to them, you felt a sharp pain in your chest, making your eyes widen. Your breath hitched as you felt the blade in your chest twist and pull out. A foot kicked you down to the ground, the sand beneath you absorbing the red liquid. 

You felt a hand on your hair, pulling your head up. The person's head got close to your ear, whispering something to you.

“Hello again, Y/n…”

The voice sounded so familiar, and once you moved your head, you got a better view.

“Guizhong?! What are you-Why are you doing this? How did you find me?” You asked

“Oh, Y/n. I’ve always known where you were this whole time. I’ve been watching you. That’s how that little girl was able to send you that note. I told her about you so that she could send you something you could never turn down. A chance to prove your worthiness. I knew you would come here, which made it the perfect moment for me to strike and end it all.” She explained

She placed her heel in the wound in your chest, making you cry out in pain.

“Now, Morax will be all mine. Once he finds out you are no longer with us, he’ll fall for me and we will be together once and for all.” She spoke. 

Suddenly, the wolf that you had killed before appeared right by her.

“Y-you…you made that?”

“Oh, you mean Milan? Why, yes I did. And I did it all for you, Y/n.”

“M-me?”

“It’s how I found you. I created these creatures out of nothing but dust. They were my eyes, my scavengers. I had to make sure you didn’t come anywhere near Morax. So I made these creatures to keep you busy. Honestly, you should be thanking me. Because of me, you became stronger….but apparently not strong enough for me. How sad.” She spoke.

“You…monster! How could you hurt all those people just because of me?!” You yelled, trying to get up. She took a sword and plunged it back into you, this time going for your Achilles tendon, making it impossible for you to get up. You screamed loudly, feeling the blood gush out of your lower leg. She grabbed some of your armor you were wearing, your sword, and cut off a strand of your hair, all of which were bloody.

“Sorry it had to be this way, Y/n. But hey, I’ll be sure to name one of our kids after you. Wouldn’t that be nice?” She asked, slowly walking away, leaving the beast behind to finish you off.

“You…” You started, seeing your vision blur.

“You…psycho…bitch…” You mumbled, slowly falling into the darkness.

Just before you closed your eyes however, the last thing you saw was a pair of small shoes walking towards you and another bigger pair right before you blacked out.

—

It had been so long since Morax had seen you. He was on the brink of insanity, if not, already hit insanity. He hates himself for sending you away. He can’t think about anything else now, all he can think about is you and your eyes when he told you he would choose Guizhong over you. He can’t get your broken voice out of his mind either, constantly hearing your cries in his ears.

He tries to hide it from everyone else, but every now and then, someone will try to talk to him only to be ignored because he is far too worried about you.

What’s worse is that no one has heard from you still. He was already worried something bad had happened to you, but now, he was starting to think the worst of the worst.

He sat on his bed, his hands running through his hair as he woke up to a new day. He looked outside his window, watching the sun slowly rise. Suddenly, a flashback hit him

–flashback–

“Oh come on, Morax! You’ll love it, I promise!” You begged the Geo archon who was currently sleeping in. 

He pushed your hand away, groaning in response

The two of you had just finished helping a few people create a shelter for protection, and needless to say, you both were whipped. But the end result of the building turned out amazing. And even though the people wanted to pay you back in some way, Morax just wanted to sleep and so he didn’t bother with the payment. He took you with him and you both found a nice hill far away from any other human being. It was quiet and had the most beautiful view of the sky and the horizon. 

You both had looked at the stars together, slowly falling asleep with each other.

However, you were woken up by a small little guinea pig licking your nose. You had sat up and saw that the sun was just about to rise, so you tried to get Morax to wake up. And we are now back to Morax trying to ignore you for sleep.

You shook his body violently, pleading him to wake up.

When he still wasn’t responding to you, you crossed your arms in frustration. However, you knew what would get him up.

You quickly stood up and began to walk downhill.

“Welp, since you’re going to be a sleepy head all morning, I guess I’ll just go watch the sunrise myself.”

His hand quickly wrapped around your wrist before you could even start to move, catching you off guard. You knew he would respond eventually, but not that quickly.

“Y/n, if you make me get up and it’s something boring, I swear I am going to kick your ass.” He said, making you smile

You quickly sat back down, grabbing his hands to pull him up.

“Great! And trust me, you are going to love it!” You said to him, looking at him with sparkles and joy in your eyes. Just seeing you look at him like that made his heart jump. No one has ever looked at him like that before.

“Now, just sit back and relax. The show is just about to start!” 

“Show?”

You nodded as you pointed to the sun, Morax’s eyes quickly following. Suddenly, the sun rose just above the horizon. A variety of colors in the sky were created, beautifully blending in with each other. The animals began to run around, and the sounds of the birds began to sing. 

“Watch this.” You said, placing your hand down onto the ground. 

Once you did, the flowers all around you began to open up, showing the gorgeous designs on the insides. Little small white flowers also began to grow, popping up out of the ground to surround you two in a circle.

Morax stared at it all in awe, enjoying the beautiful scenery unfolding in front of his eyes. He especially paid close attention to you, however. Seeing the suns’ rays hit all the right spots on you, allowing your body to give off a bright glow. He saw how happy you looked as you helped open the flowers and create new ones to help add to the scene. Your wonderful smile and sparkling eyes set his mind wild. 

You looked so adorable and beautiful at the same time. He fell deeply in love with you all over again. Just seeing how happy you were with something so simple was cute to him

“Don’t look at me, silly. Look at what’s in front of you!” You teased, feeling your face heat up a bit. A red hue slowly made its way to his face as he got caught staring. 

He stared at the sunrise for a while, genuinely enjoying the soft sounds and vibrant colors surrounding him. But he mostly paid attention to how comfortable he felt around you. You were so easy to talk to and he never felt nervous around you. You made him feel normal.

“Hey.” He started, catching your attention.

“We should do this every day.” He said, making your eyes light up

“Really? Oh, I would love that, Morax! Especially because it’s always so different every morning!” You said

“I agree. I think it would be a great time to spend together.” He said, making you smile. You nodded after

“Okay, from now on, we will wake up early every morning just to see the sunrise. Then afterwards, if we are still tired, we can go right back to sleep.” You said, making him chuckle.

“Deal.” He said, scooting closer to you.

You two then continued to watch the view, enjoying the time you two spent together. 

–End of Flashback–

Morax glared at the window, getting up to his feet to shut the blinds. He wouldn’t be able to watch the sunrise without you, which has also been killing him. 

He got dressed and made some tea to wake him up.

Morax then sat down, trying to think of something, anything else other than you. For the beginning part, it worked. He focused on his abilities, moving rocks from here to there.

But not too long after, you came to his mind as he lifted a big boulder, remembering the last day he saw you.

The day he found you trying to help a simple flower get the proper things it needed. The day he had to move a gigantic rock for you just to make you happy. 

Oh how he would do anything to go back to that day, just to see your smile. You were so happy when he did that. 

But on that same day, the day he helped you, he also hurt you. And that was what he couldn’t escape.

He sat back down, letting the boulder drop. He sighed, tears filling his eyes as he remembered that day like it was yesterday.

Many people knew he was struggling. He tried to show he was just fine on the outside, but in reality, on the inside, he was dying.

He misses your laugh. He misses your stupid jokes. He misses your eyes. Your touch. Your scent. Everything. He misses everything about you. 

“Morax, there you are!” He heard a familiar voice

“Please, Guizhong. Not today.” He said with a broken voice.

“I’m sorry, Morax…but it's very important.” She said

“It can wait.” He said in a grumpy voice.

He started to get up and leave, but what Guizhong said next made him come to a stop

“Y/n is dead.” She said

Morax quickly turned to her with widened and hurt eyes, tears on the verge of slipping out.

“W-What?” He asked, seeing if he heard her right.

“Y/n…she’s dead.” 

With those three words, Morax felt his heart completely shatter. He felt as if a part of him had just died in that moment as he slowly fell to the ground.

“H-How? How do you know??” He asked. Guizhong then pulled out a bag full of your stuff, all covered in blood

“A few soldiers came to me with it, saying they found her dead body in the middle of nowhere.”

Morax looked at all of the items, seeing some of your armor, some hair, and your sword. 

He held it close to him, realizing it was the last thing he had left of you. Tears began to fall down his face as he realized you were gone. Just like that. After all these months of searching, you were finally gone.

He slowly became angry as he realized what happened

“Did they find out who did it?” He asked

Guizhong shook her head

“Then I will. I will find out who ended her life and make sure they regret their entire life choices!” He began, his voice booming throughout the area. His eyes started to glow as his blood began to boil.

Memories ran through his head of you laughing, of you talking to him, of you hugging him, of your smile. The more the memories came, the more his anger rose.

All he could see was red. 

Suddenly, Guizhong ran up to him and hugged him, bringing him back to reality.

“I know you are hurting, Morax. And I can assure you that we will find this person together. We will put an end to them. But for now, let's get you relaxed. She wouldn’t want you to run on a rampage like this.” Guizhong said. Morax looked at her with pained eyes for a bit, hesitating. But she was right. You wouldn’t want him to go tear down places just to find someone. But that's what he wants to do. He won’t hesitate to demolish every little thing here if it meant finding who dared to harm you. Who dared to take away what made him happy. 

But no matter what, this was about you. Not him. So, after a few minutes, he finally began to cool down.

“I guess you are right” he said, his voice calming down, tears beginning to form once again. His heart was completely broken now that he found out about your death.

Guizhong helped him up and helped get him into bed. Little did he know that this was her plan all along.

–back with you–

Your eyes slowly opened, your mind feeling woozy.

There was a bright light that took over your entire vision, making you try to blink it away.

You groaned, trying to move.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Try not to move too much. You were severely injured and one simple movement could result in a wound reopening up.” A male voice said. 

After clearing your vision up, you looked over to see a man about your age talking to you. He was a bit taller than you and had dark brown hair and eyes. His skin was fair and he wore what looked to be armor all over him.

“Wh-Where am I?’ You spoke groggily.

“You are back in Xantharville. The small town you helped.” He spoke.

“How…did you find me?” You asked

“This little girl said she heard screaming and asked me to help her find where it came from. We followed the sound and eventually found you on the ground, about to get eaten up by that wolf that has been tormenting us. But don’t worry. I stopped it for now.” He said.

“Little girl?” You asked

“Hi, miss Y/n! Are you feeling better? You looked horrible when we first found you.” The little girl who contacted you said. Your eyes widened as you realized who she was

“Wh-What on Earth were you thinking?? You could’ve gotten seriously injured!” You said, making the girl look down

“I…I got scared that you were hurt. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” She said

“Didn’t you think to tell your parents?” You said, making her look down with a frown. The man who was checking your wounds looked you in the eyes, shaking his head.

You looked back at the girl, regret hitting you like a bus. 

“Airi, why don’t you go in the back and play with Asuka. I’m sure he needs someone to play with.” The man said. She nodded silently, turning around and exiting the room

You palmed your face.

“I’m such a bitch.” You said, guilt filling you up.

“Ah, you’re not. You didn’t know. She will get over it relatively quickly, so don’t feel bad about it. Besides, once she is done playing with Asuka, she will forget the whole thing ever happened.” He said

“Asuka?”

“My little brother. She and he have been friends ever since they were just babies. They are like two peas in a pod.”

“Isn’t it three peas in a pod?” You asked with a chuckle, making him smile

He continued to work on your wounds, helping recover some of them.

“So, who are you?” You asked, watching him gently place the bandages over your body.

“The names Kai Sakamura at your service. And you are?” he asked, tightening the bandage, making you wince.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n, huh? I like it!” He said with a smile, placing his arm over you to fix another bandage. You looked at his arm and saw that there was a bloodied bandage around it as well.

“What…happened?” You asked, making him look to where you were looking

“Oh, this? I got it from when I was fighting that wolf. Those damn things never know when to stop.” He said, going back to what he was doing.

“Those wolves…there are more of them?” You asked, seeing him nod

“Yeah. I saw three of them just a few miles away from this town not too long ago. Almost took my life going up against them. I don’t know what made them act like this, nor do I know where they came from. But it sure as hell has been tough getting rid of them.” He said

“Those animals…those things…they're not natural.”

“You can say that again. Especially their eyes. I’ve never seen something like that before.” “They…yeah. Me neither.” You said, stopping yourself from continuing onto this conversation. You still weren’t sure if you could trust him. Or anyone in this town. It was one you hadn’t ever heard of, but then again it was a very small one, so that could be why. You only knew of the bigger places.

“So…what were you doing all the way out there? Don’t tell me you were going to fight that thing by yourself.” “I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of defending myself.” “Hey, I never said you weren’t. I was just…shocked to see a beautiful girl such as yourself all the way out there in the face of danger.” He said, making you roll your eyes.

“Well, I am the archon of Nature…so I would sure hope I can save myself.” You said, making the man's eyes widen

“Holy shit! You’re the Y/n L/n! I-I’m so sorry! I should have known. Please forgive me-” “Oh, save it. I’m still a simple human, archon or not. Just treat me as you would any other regular human being. Please. I don’t like to be treated differently just because of my position.” You said, making him nod

“O-Of course. Sorry.” He said, getting up.

“Well, I am done with fixing up your wounds.”

“Great. Now I can be on my way-” “No. You aren’t allowed to move until those wounds completely heal.” He said, making your mouth open wide

“What?! How long will that take?”

“Well, from how deep the cuts were, I’d say about 3-4 weeks.”

“2-3? That’s too long! I have to go stop Guiz-I mean…I have important Archon things to do?” You said questioningly.

Kai just stared at you with a deadpan face, not buying your lie one bit.

“Well I can tell you aren’t the archon of deception.”

“Shut up. Look, all I can say is that I have a very important thing to do that I can’t talk about right now and if I don’t get it done soon, there could be dire consequences.”

“Well then it looks like you’ll have to try and heal up faster then because as your medic, I cannot and will not let you go until you are fully healed.” he said, walking away

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“I’m going to check on the kids. Now, get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.” He said before closing the curtain that blocked you from the rest of the area.

You looked up at the ceiling, huffing at how unbelievable this was.

You need to stop Guizhong.

Even if it meant you had to see…him again. You couldn’t let her lies get away.

You needed to stop her. Not just for you, but for the rest of everyone else and their safety.

__________________________________________

[whereserpentswalk]

They say there was a monster hunter, who had killed countless cryptids and entities, who fell in love with a vampire. They fell in love when they were fighting, but as they rolled around it soon felt as if they were playing, and soon they kissed, and he forgot about her fangs that could have so easily bitten him. And for once he chose not to kill a monster.

And she told him that she could be with him, and be his lover, for as long as he wished. But she reminded him that she was a free being, that she would never be tamed by him, and never made to put down her weapons, and be made to be like a human bride. She would never be able to marry him by any law, never have sex with him or bare his children, never take him as her only lover, or his god as her only god, and when he died her life would still be far from over. And he agreed with his words, but hoped she would change her mind some day on all things.

As as the hunter was still young, he let her hunt with him. She could see and hear better than any human, and knew where her fellow unseelie lurked. She could hypnotize a mothman as he shot at it from the ground, and could track a werewolf in the darkest of nights. And they would run together across city streets in the moonlight, and for a time their love was true. And all the local bars and local artists began to know their names well, and as the cold autumn night winds blew in their hair, they knew eachother at their best. Soon they had an apartment together, and he would brush her hair in the morning light as she slept.

At first they thought they were alike. But as he saw her hunt more, saw her mouth open wide into a mess as fangs and sharp teeth and then fold back to human shape, saw her run naked to chase down a stray goblin, and saw her sexless body naked, with scars from where her humanity was lost, he began to see her as a wild beast he had on a leash. And as she saw all the things he hunted, how willingly he would trust the testimony of humans, and how little he would show ugly things mercy. There were many creatures she had to convince him not to kill, as many as there were creatures she helped him kill, and she too felt she was hold a leash with a wild beast at the other end more and more as time went on and on.

And as he got older and older, and he began getting stranger and stranger freinds. Strange to the vampire at least, to the monster hunter they were very normal. No longer did he know the poor, the students and teachers and programmers and artists. Soon he had freinds who worked in finance, in law, who ran startups, or women who lived like pets in their husband's laps. And suddenly he wanted her to look presentable to them, even if they knew she was a vampire she couldn't be the kind they would be afraid of. Her mouth couldn't open all the way, it had to remain in a human looking state. And she couldn't spread her wings, and she had to move like a human, and dress well around them. And when they ate she couldn't drink blood, she just had to be served mortal food, and state at it as she ate nothing. And he'd pet her little head as he answered so many questions for her.

And as he got older still he began to have richer and richer clients. Fewer people in danger and more and more people looking to get rid of "problematic elements". And more and more did the hunter look at the vampire and realize that he was older now, and she was still young. And he wondered if he should have told her to transform him when he was still young, and make him like her, of the unseelie kind, forever young. Yet he thought he was too late for that, not knowing how much older he still had to grow.

And eventually, as he was older, and his clients ever richer, he told her that he was moving. He didn't ask her. He told her. And it was assumed she'd move with him. And he took her to a town, just outside of the city limits, where you needed a car to leave. And there was nothing to do at night, and no cryptids or entities but her. And there was a big house with a TV. And he would drive into the city to hunt, without her. And she would no longer walk the city streets, free and wild, and she would no longer have freinds outside of him. And she was alone, for the first time in centuries she had nobody.

And once, after they had lived together in that town for years. As he had grown older, he told her that it was time she finally slept with him. He pointed to his body and explained to her that he had needs as a man, and she had duties as his wife, and it was the first time he ever called her his wife. And as she told him no, he pulled down his pants, and began to force her mouth open. And it did open, but he had forgotten how wide it did open, she had made it look human for him for so long, and soon the bottom half of her face had once again shown itself as a mess of sharp fangs and many jaws.

They say she flew back to the city that night. And say that his body still sits in that empty house. Cold and abandoned, stripped of pants, and drained of blood, doomed to be forgotten.

[desceros]

speaking of papatello. i have been putting into consideration the anon-chan who asked if there'd be another one and i've decided that when lavi's abt four, after one very memorable mating season it happens again. oops.

this time, you're the one who is panicking a bit more bc you remember how painful it was to carry lavi towards the end there. donnie's the one who is calmer about it, showing you all the data he collected from last time, and that he knows better how to help now.

but i imagine that it's lavi who is the one who convinces you to try again; she's been working on her ninjitsu with papa splinter, and she'd overheard you and donnie discussing the possibility of another one and she Flips Her Shit at having a sibling. running around screaming excited, asking when it's gonna come, what color it's gonna have as its life color, does she have to share all of her toys or can she pick a few.

throws a dart at the board and lands on angst wheeee!. it's a much more difficult pregnancy even than lavi's. several times you and donnie wonder if you're doing the right thing, but you decide to persist. you learn it's a boy, and that he's a little smaller than lavi was at each point. still, even earlier than with lavi, he pulls the plug on you carrying yourself. it's harrowing transferring the lil guy over to the artificial egg, and for the first night it looks like he isn't going to pull through... but then lavi comes in and grabs her favorite blanket and curls up next to him, and by the morning, everything looks good.

i went with niccolo for a name since that's part of donatello's (the artist, not the turtle) name. nico for short.

i imagine that where lavi is very outgoing, sassy, and stubborn, nico would be quiet and contemplative. he's the kind of kid who spends the first few years of his life ducking behind your legs when someone talks to him. he grows out of his shyness, but he's always more introverted than his sister. he's a carbon copy of donnie, down to how he wears glasses (though i've decided that unlike donnie, he doesn't grow out of them). also unlike his sister, you're the favorite parent.

lavi is a beast when it comes to protecting her brother. she and shelldon work out super intricate plans in crayon that then pin to the fridge door should anything go down so they can save him (some of which aren't half bad, actually). she's very sensitive to his moods, and she'll snap at anyone whom she feels is bullying him. (even people she really, really shouldn't, which causes one memorable incident with a giant yokai that ends in several thousand dollars of property damage you quietly pretend not to notice donnie hacking out of the hidden city police system.)

[kotaloyelysiumevents]

June '24 - Monthly Prompt

🧚 Fairy tales / Shapeshifters / Magic🌏 Sweet and slow / “Let the world wait while you’re in my arms”

Fic

In the Slowness of the Morning (E) - @mayalli Aloy and Kotalllo indulge in a sweet and slow start to their morning.

Interlude - No touch can do half as much to make me feel better (E) (F/M/M)- @5ellaal5 Kotallo has been helping Hekarro learn to read Old One’s glyphs to complement his knowledge of Carja ones by using his Focus and their watching The Aloy Show together which means Hekarro is learning how to use a Focus. Aloy owes Hekarro one because he assisted her in her Nefarious Plot. Hekarro has some Nefarious Plots of his own. And some plans for diplomacy.

Interlude, restrospective: Five times Kotallo was distracted and confused, and one time he figured it out. (E) - @5ellaal5 What’s that strange and alluring scent? Oh. Figured it out. Awkward.

Mimicry (T) - theartseewinks It was only talked about in hushed tones on the fringes. Amongst the outcasts on the Sacred Lands, in the maize fields, in the seedier taverns, around cook fires. Something was out there, taking people. What happens when that thing sets sights on a young warrior from the Sky Clan?

The Huntress and the Beast (T) - @quiche-draws It is hard enough that Aloy must deal with dangerous machines, errant subfunctions and a growing threat from beyond the stars. So when she finds herself under the Tenakth Chief's service however temporary, it is with great reluctance, even more so when she is tasked to accompany his last remaining Marshal, dishonored not just by grave injury, but by extraordinary circumstance.

Red Aloy (T) - @cotanerd On the day Aloy finds her Focus, she also finds a cloak that is transformative in nature.

Safe and Sound (M) - @cotanerd Aloy and Kotallo take a beat the night before the impending battle with Nemesis.

Art

Trust - @sigvos

Aloy the Witch and her Familiar, Kotallo! - @setavvo

Frogtallo - @muffinvelocity

Has Anyone Seen Kotallo? - @tonys-art-n-stuff

Part of Your World - @apricity-writes

Alone at Night (NSFW) - @quiche-draws

---

Thank you to everyone for participating this June! Lots of ideas and cool concepts were thrown around!

If you posted your work for this prompt but did not get included in the list, please let us know so we can fix that!!

You can also check out our AO3 collections here and here!

And as always, if you're interested in joining our server, feel free to send us an ask!

[your-sweet-cookies]

How to date Niragi guide for dummies - 15 easy steps to tame your local neighborhood sexy sniper masochist! (meme post)

(A/N: Please note that this post is meant only for satire and ironic parody comedic purposes, so take it as is. No hate intended towards anyone. <3)

[insert catchy commercial jingle here 🔊]

Are you perhaps one of those very sad, depressed and unlucky Niragi stans who, for some odd reason, can't seem to make this man bathe an eye at you or even spit in your direction, no matter how hard you try? If yes, then you've come to the right place that can help solve all your life's problems!

Hello and welcome to the one and only "How to Date Niragi" guide for idiots dummies, your number #1 starter pack essential for those who want to catch their own Niragi, but are still unsure about how to do it! Our researchers say that if you follow this guide, your chances at getting laid and secure a (somewhat) healthy relationship with the sexy beast of the Borderlands, the one and only Niragi Suguru, will increase by 75%, since the method has proven very effective with a 100% success rate in 3 out of 4 cases!

So now that we've got that out of the way, before we get to the "bread and butter" of our 'scientific' paper, let's start with what you'll need to have in your resources pack, in order for you to make sure that your success rate will grow to 100%:

unresolved childhood traumas (preferably a very traumatic experience with bullying) - Nothing says 'true love' better than two people who'd been through the same amount of shit and can understand each other better than anyone, so the more you'll have in common with Niragi, the higher your chances at making him yours! since you'll know what the f*ck not to ever bring up in your conversations and have the best knowledge for showing him the moral support he so desperately needs, but refuses to admit he wants! So yeah, the more unresolved traumas you have, the better, especially if they revolve around bullying and parental neglect! Also, if these traumas left you slightly unhinged, props to you!👍

a very morbid and unhealthy curiosity - Being curious to scoop about everything and anything about your obsession crush will come in handy when pursuing Niragi, because the more things you'll know or want to know about him, the more Niragi will know how important his person is in your life, which will flatter his narcissistic and possessive ego.

lack of self-awareness and a low as f*ck self-esteem- Niragi looooves his girls all vulnerable and obedient, so the more you are willing to accept and take from him in your relationship, the better! He's a very controlling man, so you also should be prepared to give up on your independence and prsonal life! And don't forget that romancing Niragi also implies pledging complete devotion and loyalty to Niragi and Niragi only to the point you'd give up your life for him!

God tier level flattery skills - As mentioned before, Niragi is a very egocentric and narcissistic man, so if you want to get his attention, you better start working on those complimenting skills, sistah! If you already are a writer or poet, then you are on the right path! Shower this man in compliments, treat him as a God, impress him with the way you word yourself! It also helps if you have your way with words when it comes to manipulating persuading your Niragi into loving you.

a good intelligence - Niragi is a very smart man, just as much as he's handsome, so it's gonna come in handy if you are a clever little cookie too! Show him that he can find a good ally in you, someone he can trust and lean on as a partner too, not only to use you as his personal sex toy. It might seem a bit contradictory to the point about having a lack of self-awareness, since smart people would normally stay away from a clearly toxic and abusive relationship like the one you are about to enter, but being a helpless case of lovestruck idiot doesn't mean you can't also be a book smart one!

obsessive and manic tendencies - While Niragi is a possessive and controlling man himself, he'll find it attractive if you are the very jealous and possessive type yourself. He likes his 'kittens clawed', if you know what I mean. Don't ever dare accuse him of jealousy/cheating, but if he'll see you going on killing sprees to take down the b*tches threatening to steal your man, it'll get him hard.

good cooking skills - A man's heart goes always through his stomach, so bonus points if you know how to cook.

good manipulation skills - We'll talk about these later, but trust me, the more deceiving you are, the better!

You done taking notes on what you have and what you're still to acquire in order to complete your perfect resources pack? Perfect! Let's move on now to what you came here for in the first place: the important things to remember and follow if you want the taming process to go as planned!

1. DON'T seem too impatient! - One of the biggest turn offs for a Niragi is when he's being approached by a d*ck starved groupie that makes it obvious she/he/they want(s) him to f*ck her/his/their brains out! So be subtle, approach your Niragi the same way a cat stalks its prey: observe from afar, make your way slowly towards your target and then... Strike! Try making it seem as if you approaching him was a mere coincidence, a simple curiosity of the moment due to the fact that his interesting and alluring presence and vibe of mystery caught your eye. You are the mastermind in this game of 'cat and mouse', so keep your gosh darn composure and lay your pieces carefully!

If you already have deep feelings for him, don't let it show, try to make it seem as if this is the first time you've ever met him and you've just felt like striking a conversation with a random stranger to ease your night out. You can also point out the fact that you've heard various rumors about him, to spike his curiosity, and then note that you don't really believe them and would like to find out for yourself if they're true. This will also give you the daring air of a challenge in Niragi's eyes since he's used to people fearing him, so a little innocent 'lamb' like yourself being unafraid of the 'big bad wolf' will sure seem amusing and worth exploring. And always, but always, have that gentle sweet air of innocence! Let him think he has the upper hand in this game and that he is the one manipulating you forward.

Tips of ways in which to start a conversation with your Niragi: if you are a newcomer to the Beach, ask him to be the one to introduce you to the place, bring up the fact that you've heard how important of a member of The Beach he is and that you admire his imposing and confident demeanor and that's why you want HIM specifically to be your guide; another method would be inviting him for a drink to start up a conversation, since incentives work most of the time; partner up with him for the night's game and show him how valuable you are in order to spike his interest in you so maybe he'll come seek you afterwards OR play the dumb little kitten route and rely on him to feed his ego that he's the best and strongest out there; lastly, if you approach him in the real world, try again to be subtle, go for a mundane subject, that might interest him even if just a little, ask him if a rumor about him is true to make him want to talk to you to clear it up and find out where it started from (this kind of leaves a mark in his memory to help him remember who the f*ck you are the next time you come seek him) or apply again the first strategy of inviting him out for something (but you might need to have done some previous small talk on random crap that kept him somewhat interested to make him want to continue conversing with you, in a more enjoyable way).

2. Talk about yourself as much as you ask him to share about himself - Since now you secured Niragi's attention enough so that he's willing to exchange a word or two with you, it's time to slowly show interest in him and that he's captivating enough to you to actually want to know him, but don't make it look as if you're literally interrogating him, share stuff about yourself too in relation to the conversation topic. This will help form a feeling of mutual trust between you two and won't make him question your true motives for coming to him. As always keep it subtle, make him want to continue talking to you, show a little bit of vulnerability (but not too much either), and if you feel bold/confident enough, you can also throw in a lil bit of flirting too (but again, DON'T throw yourself at him).

3. Build up that sexual tension baby! - Niragi LOVES a good sexual tension moment! Plus, we want him to be future boyfriend material, so it's important that you don't let him have his way with you from the very first 'date'. Make some flirty comments here and there after a while, because we all know Niragi is the type who's gonna show interest in 'that' too. Make him start to want you, crave you, but show him that you won't be that easy of a prey. One of the reasons he has a r*pe kink after all is because he loves when his victim prey tries to oppose him, showing resistance to some capacity, making the hunt more interesting and more worth engaging. So apply a similar principle here too (we don't want you to get in the position of an assault tho! so take it slow and easy), spike his interest by showing him that you might want to bed him, but at the same time play hard to get, be that 'forbidden fruit' he's going to crave getting a taste of, keep him in suspense and build up the sexual tension little by little with each and every interaction. Stir him up just enough so that he'll continue wanting to hunt you down, but not to the point in which he'll want to cut the chase short and get what he wants then and there!

4. DON'T EVER mention therapy - We've already established that Niragi is a prideful man, so he won't ever admit he needs to see a therapist, so take your mind off of even trying to attempt to 'fix' him. Repeat after me babes: PEOPLE ARE NOT YOUR PERSONAL DIY PROJECTS TO FIX! You choose someone to puruse romantically because you love them the way they are and for who they are, not because you are a dumb b*tch who believes all these crappy webtoon tropes.

So throw to the bin that bs cliche trope of 'I CaN FiX hIm!". You knew what you were signing up for the moment you decided to pursue this chase. If you truly love and want this man for yourself and yourself only for the rest of your life, you have to accept the fact that you ain't gonna change him and chances he's going to willingly want to change on his own are extremly low to 0 (this ain't fu*king Mr. Darcy babe) and especially NOT for you (unless maybe, just maybe, he actually falls down bad for you, in which case the most you'll get will be him trying to be just a little less violent and a tad bit more romantic towards you, but don't expect much). Niragi will appreciate if he'll see that you accept his decisions and who he wants to be, so show that you are there for him and support him no matter what the heck might happen (you are after all his loyal devotee, remember?). So yeah, one thing you should never tell Niragi (besides the obvious "NO" and "STOP") is to go to therapy. And DON'T even f*cking try therapying him yourself if you value your life! Triggering his past traumas ain't never a good idea.

5. The 'Friendzone' strategy - Ah, this is a personal favorite of mine to be honest, cause it goes well hand in hand with 2 and 3 and will help you secure that good starting point from 1. Thing is that most often than not, a Niragi might grow tired and even bored of the swarm of people wanting to romance him. So give him something different, be the 'exception' from the rule, that 'special' one that doesn't want to f*ck him (as stated at 1, be subtle and don't seem d*ck starved), be that odd one out who spikes his interest by simply wanting to be... FRIENDS!

We all love the enemies to lovers trope, but in real life, the one that works best for romancing someone is the friends to lovers approach, and so will it work in our quest too. Love is built on things two people have in common, things they share with each other, the nice things the two partners build together and the quality time they spend together. So, by becoming his friend first, you assure 3 of these stuff: you build memories with him through the crap you two do together, you share stuff and hopefully spend quality time together. Add to that the things he has (or thinks he has) in common with you, and BAM, he'll slowly start falling for you.

6. Devote yourself to him heart, body and soul - After a while, if things go smoothly between you two and he starts to show signs of possession over you and sexual/romantic interest (tho let's be real, in 99% of cases he's only going to show sexual interest in someone cause 'who the f*ck is love? We don't know her in this household!'), you can go on and finally confess your feelings to Niragi and maybe even start upping up your flirting game by showing him that you want him physically too. Start showering him with your undying love and adoration, make him feel full of himself seeing how helpless you are for him, what a lost cause you are in terms of being blinded with love, how much you freaking adore him and that you'd do ANYTHING for him (yeah, in 1 case out of 4 he might ask you to kill someone for him... But we don't really talk about that...). After having played very hard to get in the beginning, now you can finally loosen up and switch gears, becoming a needy mess for him, so that you'll manipulate convince him into to think that he has absolute control over you. In some cases, if you played your cards right, your love confession might yield you the very satisfying reward of Niragi confessing to you too in return.

Show him that you are loyal and devoted to him and that'll make him to also show a similar level of loyalty and devotion to you, as your trustworthy lover and partner in crime.

7. Be the Yang to his Yin, that innocent little sweet lamb that the bad wolf will devour - As mentioned in previous points, it's important to use that deceiving sweet innocent persona that emanates purity and innocence, this will stir him up a bit inside to want to have you, to corrupt you. Niragi is a man who loves to own things, so the more he can own of you, the better! Plus, being all innocent and vulnerable might trigger that primal instinct in him of wanting to protect you, especially now that he owns you.

If you already are a genuinely sweet person and even better, still a virgin too, you don't have to do anything special here, just be yourself and enjoy the effects you have on Niragi whenever you give him one of those adorable sweet looks or say something (especially his name) in that cute voice of yours... Trust me, it's worth it playing sweet and innocent for this one! Sure, a slutty dirty approach my work too, but remember, our strategy has proven effective in 3/4 cases! And doing the "little lamb" approach while also adding in the next point on the list... Oh boy, you'll see what we mean! ;)

7.5 Rile him up with some sexy dirty talk or 'naughty' behavior - Going really well together with our previous point is this one: adding some spice to the 'cat and mouse' chase by doing little lewd things and saying sexy stuff that go in contrast with your innocent vibe. This will make Niragi want you even more and is fun to see him salivating for you and you alone. This is more like a bonus 'tip' for your own enjoyment, as it's pretty much the same idea of building up the sexual tension as stated at 3, but it's still worth taking into consideration to amp up the fun.

Oh, and here's a bonus bonus tip: ask him about his wet dreams about you and also tell him about yours. You'll like the results. 😉 (It's better to do this after you've gone past the first stages of your relationship for max results).

8. Show your love and affection to him by cooking stuff for him or by doing small sweet things for him - Good, by now let's say you two are in that almost perfect scenario in which you confessed, he owns you, the sexual tension is thick enough to be cut with a knife and he seems fixated on you. It's time to assert your role as his significant other and partner by showing him how much you love him through caring actions such as making him something good to eat, giving him a massage, crafting something for him, you know, stuff like that. So far, cooking seems to hold a special place in our case, since it moves the Niragi, care being something new to him as so far no one had ever shown him that kind of affection. Plus, eating together is an act of platonic intimacy that strengthens a couple's bond. Also, pet names! If you feel confident enough, start sprinkling in that additional bit of 'umph' by starting to call him various cutesy pet names, or pet names that assert ownerships and devotion such as "my beloved", "my dear", "dearest", "my love". Again, make him feel loved and adored by you and show him how helplessly in love you are with him!

9. Allow him to see your most vulnerable states and build the trust - This helps with triggering his primal desire to keep you safe, as well as forming a stronger bond of trust between you two. Due to his past traumas, a Niragi will be reluctant to trust others, so if you allow him to see you in your must vulnerable of states, that implies a very high level of trust you've invested him with (we recommend you do this only in a latter stage of your relationship, since it might be risky to invest him with too much trust from the very start). Tell him that you feel safe with him, allow him to see your tears (unless he'll get angry because of that), if you don't do well with alcohol, allow him to see you drunk and to take care of your hangover, etc.

10. Be into his kinks - Well, this is self explanatory: he won't want you that much if you don't really allow him to do much in terms of fun. Sure, playing into he CNC kink will entertain him, but only doing that forever will make him get bored. Show him your kinky side, tell him in little detail about the things you want to do to him so that he'll get riled up just by imagining what your fantasies imply. Just be over all fun, experimental and involved. Again, you signed up for this willingly knowing fully well what he's into, so once started, there's no going back. If you'll keep turning down all of his kinks, that surely won't land you a stable ship. Also, bonus points if you have a breeding kink too, cause he's definitely into that and it'll turn him on even more if you tell him you want his babies.

11. Be possessive, but not very possessive - Being possessive sometimes can seem sexy to Niragi, so it's not that bad of an idea to mark your territory once in a while (he might even find it hot and fun if you leave marks on him and express out loud to others that he's yours alone). Tho, be careful, don't go overboard because remember, control is HIS thing and we want to keep him thinking that he's the one pulling the strings in your relationship.

12. Be invested in your relationship - There's nothing more turn offish for a Niragi than to see how little to no involvement you show in your relationship with him. So once committed to him, then girl, you have to be committed! Don't ignore him too long, but also don't annoy him; come up with fun new things for you two to do together; keep showering him with love and reminding him of how much you love him, etc. And don't use him for sex only!

12.5. Niragi is NOT your personal walking-talking sex toy! - Yes, man is hot. Yes, we all want to f*ck him. Yes, the sexy times are the best part of a Niragi ship, but don't make this the only subject matter of your interactions (unless you are going for the horndog Niragi species, then that might work, but you'll have to be gosh darn creative to keep things always fresh and fun even when going for the same activity again and again). It's also somewhat degrading for Niragi to feel used as an object by you. Sure, he might want to use you as his toy, but he loathes when someone else does that to him. So make him feel important and loved as a human too, not only for his d*ck.

13. Die for him - This might be extreme, but if you are going for a tragic kind of story, sacrificing yourself for Niragi is the ultimate symbol of your love and devotion to him. If you did everything well so far and got Niragi to love you to some extent, such an extreme measure will secure for sure your position as his biggest, truest and only love, since he won't ever replace you and will probably end up living his life mourning you in his own weird ways or seeking to get revenge for your death from those responsible of it.

Well, there you have it! The complete guide for dating Niragi! We wish you all the best and good luck in your quest of taming a Niragi and pursuing your very own ship with him! 👍

(Disclaimers!) Please note that we do not take responsibility or can be held accountable in case any of these steps goes wrong and results in the injury of your own well being, since you voluntarily accepted to pursue a Niragi at your own risk, knowing very well about each and every implication.

Have fun and remember: First step to be able to do any of this is to TRY TO ACTUALLY TALK TO a Niragi! :D

[zeciex]

A Vow of Blood - 53

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Chapter 53: The Hunger of Man

AO3 - Masterlist

SMUT!

From his concealed position, Aemond attentively observed as his mother engaged in conversation with Daenera. A growing sense of wariness and apprehension filled the air, the tension between the two women palpable, almost as if one could reach out and touch it. The smoke from the overly sweet incense hung heavily in the air, adding to the already dense atmosphere. 

A growing queue of commoners had begun to form at the base of the stairs, leading up to the dais and altar, their whispers and murmurings filling the expansive space under the domed roof. Beams of sunlight attempted to cut through the smoke-filled air, but the shadows seemed to be holding their ground, refusing to let the light fully illuminate the darkened space. 

Aemond’s gaze then shifted to his lover, Daenera, draped in black attire. Her hair was neatly pinned up, obscured by a heavy black veil. The dress was adorned with silver accents, showcasing a subtle elegance and luxury that didn’t scream for attention but demanded it nonetheless. He couldn’t help but notice the curious glances thrown in her direction, as people tried to peek through her veil, attempting to gauge the depths of her sorrow, as she had worn it over her face during the sermon. 

It irked him, the way she flawlessly portrayed the role of a grieving widow. He couldn’t help but wonder–how would she react if she were mourning someone she held dear? Would her grief still be this poised, a carefully crafted performance for those around her? Or would it be raw, violent even, fueled by a rage demanding retribution? Would it be a beast with claws and fangs and a thirst for blood?

Before his brother’s presence became visible, Aemond sensed him approaching. Aegon positioned himself on Aemond’s better side, allowing him a clear view from the corner of his eye. 

“She’s quite the convincing widow, isn’t she?” Aegon commented, his voice laced with a drawl. “Care to know my thoughts on this?”

With a curt response, Aemond replied, “No.”

“I believe the stag uncovered the truth about his delicate doe’s escapades with the dragon. And I suspect the dragon might have silenced the stag to conceal their affair – perhaps with the doe’s consent,” Aegon speculated, his voice taking on a tone of amused malevolence as he picked at Aemond’s dwindling patience. “Regardless of the actual participants, the doe puts on a splendid show of mourning. Yet, it raises the question: how did the stag discover their secret? Clearly, it wasn’t the dragon or the doe that admitted to their wrongdoing.”

Are you suggesting the fool?” Aemond snapped, fixing his brother with a glare, only to receive a typical grimace in return and a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder. 

“The fool assured the dragon he played no part in revealing his secret,” Aegon responded sharply. “I, for one, suspect our lord of the fireflies.”

“You’d do well to mind your words and your surroundings, brother. Your little tales might be misunderstood,” Aemond warned, feeling his annoyance rise like boiling water threatening to overflow. “I am not like you, depraved .”

Aegon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, “Are you entirely certain of that?” His arrogance was palpable, and it seemed to make Aemond’s blood boil even more. “You’re not as decent and moral as you like to think you are. Beneath that veneer, you might find more in common with me than you think, after all, you had an illicit affair with a married woman. What honorable man does that?”

His voice was steady, just loud enough to carry over the loud hum of conversation filling the sept, ensuring their conversation remained private. “At the very least, I don’t seek out pleasure in the brothels or in the fighting pits, delighting in the sight of children being pitted against each other in a fight to the death.”

“They don’t kill each other… Often ,” Aegon countered, his tone casual as if to downplay the gravity of his indulgences, as if there was a moral high ground to be found in the frequency of the bloodshed he delighted in. 

Aemond couldn’t help but think that Aegon’s depravity was akin to that of a mongrel dog’s rabies–incurable and vile. 

Undeterred, Aemond pressed on, the disgust in his voice palpable as he revealed, “And I certainly am not the one who takes pleasure in assaulting the servant girls or finds amusement in debasing myself with wooden phalluses.”

He couldn’t mask the contempt he felt, especially knowing that Aegon’s personal chambers were a testament to his perverse inclinations, littered with wooden phalluses in a display that was nothing short of shameful. Once, he may have been curious of his brother’s depravity, but as he grew, he saw it for what it really was. 

Aegon, however, was unphased, responding with a twisted grin, “Maybe if you tried taking that proverbial stick out your ass and tried something a bit more… unconventional, you might find yourself enjoying life a bit more. I assure you, it’s a whole new world of pleasure.”

His mere words were blasphemous, especially within the sanctity of the sept, and Aemond felt as though the earth would split open and swallow his brother whole. 

“You are utterly repugnant,” Aemond spat out, his growl resonating with the depth of his disdain for his brother's proclivities. 

He cast one last glance towards Daenera, catching a moment where she withdrew her hand from his mother’s grasp and exchanged a few words. He then made his exit, leaving the dim confines of the sept for the sunlight outside. 

Just as Aemond was preparing to mount his horse, the distinct voice of his mother pierced through the air. “Aemond, you will be accompanying your brother and I in the litter.”

Aemond couldn’t hide the scowl that marred his features as he backed away from his horse. He pulled off his leather gloves, tucking them neatly into his sword belt. His mother gracefully made her way into the litter, her dark green gown billowing behind her before she settled inside. 

A sense of unease settled heavily in Aemond’s stomach, feeling akin to a dense stone. With cautious steps, he joined his family in the litter, positioning himself across from his mother and Aegon. Aegon was sprawled in a way that was somewhere between sitting and lying down, his chin rested against his collarbone, exposing the skin beneath his jaw in a rather unflattering manner. His posture and demeanor resembled that of a petulant child. 

Alicent presented the picture of composed elegance as she sat with her hands folded upon her lap, fingers idly twisting the rings on her hand the only indicator of her irritation. Her back maintained an impeccable straightness and her shoulders squared in a posture of regality. Her lips were tightly pursed, showcasing her displeasure, while her eyes, sharp and scrutinizing, tracked Aemond’s movement as he settled into his seat across from her. Only then did they slide to his brother.

As the door was securely closed and locked, the sunlight from outside filtered through the litter’s exquisitely carved openings, causing an elaborate dance of light and shadows through the interior. The intricate patterns played across their clothing as the litter began to move. 

Within the confined space of the litter, the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. The air turned hot and sticky, making it difficult to breathe comfortably–though it was far better than the sweet air of the sept. Meanwhile, the sounds from the world outside made themselves known, creating a contrasting ambiance. 

The hustle and bustle of the city, the steady clip-clop of horses’ hooves, and the distant hum of conversations formed a backdrop of noise. Occasionally, the litter would sway roughly, accompanied by the creaking of its frame and the subtle rustle of fabric as its occupants shifted. Despite the cacophony of sounds from the busy streets, the interior of the litter felt eerily silent, the tension within creating a bubble that seemed to mute the outside world, adding to the stifling atmosphere.

“Aegon, would you care to share what you’ve been doing?” Alicent shattered the lingering silence, her voice strained and tense, akin to a bowstring pulled tight, ready to propel an arrow forward. Her fingers fidgeted with her ring, roughly twisting it as a distraction to prevent herself from picking at her skin anxiously.  

Aegon, caught off guard, furrowed his brows in confusion and straightened himself up a bit, his voice coming out as a bewildered echo, “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Have you?” Alicent shot back sharply, her voice carrying a pointed accusation. 

“Well, that depends on what you’re referring to,” Aegon responded, his face betraying his thoughts as Aemond observed him mentally sorting through all the potential issues that could have reached their mother’s ears. He swallowed hard, a frustrated shake of his head indicating his resignation to an impending reprimand.

“It has been brought to my attention–”

“Meaning the lord confessor has been whispering in your ear…” Aegon mumbled quietly, almost to himself, before he clamped his teeth on a nail of his, picking at it. 

“–that the princess has been engaged in an illicit affair,” Alicent finished, choosing to ignore her son’s muttering and pressing forward with her revelation. “And she herself all but confirmed it.”

Baffled, Aegon stopped chewing on his thumb and spat out the sliver of nail he had managed to rip off, and as he spoke, his eyes narrowed in bewilderment. “You believe it is I, she’s been having an affair with?”

“Is it not?” Alicent pressed, her gaze sharp and piercing as she fixed her eyes on her son, seemingly attempting to see straight through him. Her brows set in a stern, accusing manner, reflecting her disbelief and the extent of her incredulity at her son’s supposed foolishness. 

Slowly, Aegon’s gaze shifted to Aemond, his lips curving into a smug smile. He couldn’t hold back his laughter as Alicent’s gaze followed his, her eyes now narrowing in Aemond’s direction.

Aemond could feel the intensity of her disbelief and shock, as if it were a whip cutting through the air to strike at his skin, leaving behind welts and a sharp, sting sensation. His brother’s laughter only added insult to injury, making the moment all the more humiliating. Instinctively, his fingers curled into tight fists, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of his palms as he struggled to maintain his composure. 

“Truly, Mother, for once, your concerns should be directed elsewhere,” Aegon declared, his voice laced with amusement and a touch of irony. 

“Aemond,” she stammered, clearly in shock and taken aback. “Is this true?”

All Aemond could muster was a profound swallow, his back stiffening as he found himself under the intense scrutiny of his mother. He realized there was no other course of action but to acknowledge the truth. “Yes, it’s true.”

“He’s been fucking her!” Aegon chimed in, his tone betraying a sense of gleeful revelation. “For several months now, correct? I’ve been attempting to make you aware, Mother. Your esteemed son has been engaged in illicit activities with the princess, right under our noses.”

As Aegon delighted in the rare situation of not being the target of blame and scorn, the silence that remained between Aemond and his mother grew heavy, saturated with her disapproval and a subtle hint of disappointment. After all, Aemond was the son she had always deemed reliable, the one she believed she could trust above all others. Aemond knew this, and perhaps that is why he felt a deep sense of shame.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Alicent finally erupted, her voice resonating loudly within the confines of the litter. “Think about the implications of your reputation! What will transpire once word of this spreads?”

“Indeed, contemplate the potential damage to your reputation, dear brother,” Aegon jeered, his eyes glittering with spiteful delight. “What had become of the obedient, dutiful son? Tell me, how does it feel to now be the source of disappointment?”

“Aegon, refrain from speaking further,” Alicent sharply interjected, shooting her eldest a stern look that demanded immediate silence. Reluctantly, Aegon conceded, visibly expressing his discontent by folding his arms and rolling his eyes in a gesture of annoyance. Alicent then shifted her focus back onto Aemond, her eyes laden with reproach.

Feeling the oppressive weight of her critical stare, Aemond found himself shifting uncomfortably, unaccustomed to being at the receiving end of his mother’s disapproval like this. His hand involuntarily twitched, dragging the nail of his index finger down the length of his thumb, letting it pick at his callouses. His other hand clenched tighter, causing the bandage wrapped around his palm to tighten. The slight pain served as a reminder, and it eased the weight of his mother’s scorn.

“You instructed me to keep an eye–” Aemond began.

“I certainly didn’t instruct you to sleep with her,” Alicent interrupted, her voice laced with frustration. “My expectation was for you to observe her closely and establish a connection, not to risk everything we’ve been working towards! Should rumors start circulating about your illicit affair with her, just think of the consequences for our family. Did you pause to reflect on how your actions tarnish your name? How does it reflect on us?”

Aegon, unable to resist, muttered a snide comment under his breath, while he idly filled with a loose thread on his doublet. “Seems he’s been using the wrong head for thinking.”

Alicent, choosing to overlook Aegon’s remark, pressed on. “What drove you to make such a decision?”

“Initially, my plan was to alienate her, drive her away from King’s Landing,” Aemond responded, pressing his thumb against the fresh cut on his palm, using the sharp pain to ground himself. “However, as I got closer, I recognized an opportunity to infiltrate her inner circle. I took it, believing it would yield valuable information on their activities and intentions.”

“That sounds like nothing more than a feeble excuse,” Aegon sneered under his breath, looking up at Aemond in defiance. 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s tone sharpened as she directed her piercing gaze onto her eldest son again. “It appears you are in dire need of a breath of fresh air. You shall continue the journey on horseback.”

Without hesitation, Alicent rapped sharply on the litter’s wall, signaling for it to halt. 

Aegon, his dissatisfaction now morphing into a scowl, protested, “I have no desire to ride. I prefer to stay and witness my dear brother finally receiving the reprimand he deserves.”

“You will do as I say. A dose of fresh air might actually do you some good,” Alicent retorted, brushing off her son’s sulking as he straightened up, adjusting his doublet by smoothing down the hem. His top two buttons lay undone, and despite Alicent’s painstaking efforts to ensure he was impeccably dressed for the funeral, Aegon seemed perpetually disheveled. “And Aegon, this matter is not to be discussed with anyone. He is your brother, and I will not tolerate you besmirching his name. Do I make myself clear?”

With a rigid nod, Aegon begrudgingly made his way towards the door. “For once, brother, we have something in common.”

He exited the litter, the door promptly closing behind him. 

Only after the litter resumed its motion did Alicent finally shift her attention back to Aemond, her dark eyes searching his expression as though she could read the truth on his face. “I must confess, I am at a loss for words.” 

The queen swept her hand down the fabric of her gown, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate embroidery in a seemingly futile effort to quell her rising anxiety. Her thumb began to worry at her own skin, picking subconsciously as she posed her question, “Were you implicated in the death of Boris Baratheon?”

Aemond managed to maintain a facade of unruffled composure, displaying the kind of indifferent nonchalance that often irked those around him, giving the illusion that he was utterly unaffected by the situation at hand. However, beneath this veneer of calm, there was a subtle tension in his movements, a restiveness that did not go unnoticed by his mother’s discerning eye, particularly the way he, too, was absentmindedly picking at his callouses.

“You were present at the scene of the accident,” Alicent pressed on, not giving Aemond the chance to respond to her initial inquiry before piling on the accusation. “You saw him fall.”

“Though I find no cause to grieve his passing, I did not play a part in his death,” Aemond responded, his words carefully measured. The falsehood left a sour taste in his mouth; he had never intended to deceive his mother, but the truth–that he had been complicit in the death of his lover’s husband–would only serve to cause further grievous injury. As he spoke, he could discern the flicker of doubt in his mother’s brown eyes, a suspicion that only served to intensify the sourness of deceit. 

“Was she the author of his death?” Alicent inquired sharply, her tone cutting through the air. “Maester Orwyle has been unable to provide a clear verdict on whether poison was involved. Knowing her lineage, and her mother’s history, I find it within the realm of possibility that Daenera could resort to such measures.”

“I haven't come across any incriminating evidence that suggests she poisoned him, but as you say, it is not outside the realm of possibility, “Aemond responded, his voice even, as he carefully navigated the treacherous waters of the conversation. He understood the gravity of the situation; revealing Daenera’s confession and their joint involvement in Boris’s demise would undoubtedly seal her fate. 

Aemond knew that his mother would not afford the same protection for Daenera as she did him. His mother would use the knowledge to drive her away from King’s Landing, or worse. She would likely be delivered straight to the executioner’s block, all the while his mother would use the indiscretion and implication to diminish Rhaenyra’s influence and authority. 

Alicent’s brown eyes meticulously scanned Aemond’s face, her sharp gaze analyzing every nuance of his expression. She was adept at reading him, and she could discern the burden of her questions weighing heavily upon him. 

“Should it turn out that she orchestrated her husband’s death, we would find allies in House Baratheon and the entirety of the Stormlands. Borros Baratheon would most certainly demand justice, and Rhaenyra would be compelled to deliver it if she harbors any aspirations for the throne,” Alicent said, her brow furrowing as she seemed to grapple at how to use this strategically. 

“Rhaenyra would never be compelled to deliver her daughter to Borros Baratheon for justice,” Aemond said, feeling a stab of pain wreck through his skull at the reminder of it. “And Daenera would ensure that my name is entwined with hers in the scandal, if not have my head placed alongside hers on the executioner’s block.”

“And what evidence could she possibly bring forth against you that would implicate you?” Alicent retorted, undeterred. “It becomes a matter of her word against yours. We can outright deny the affair, and as you’ve stated, you played no part in her husband’s death.”

“But what evidence do we hold to affirm her guilt in her husband’s murder?” Aemond pressed. 

“Daenera possesses extensive knowledge on the subject of plants, which extends to an understanding of poisons,” Alicent elaborated, digging her claws into the situation to tear it apart and piece it back together again. “I’ve been told that she was vehemently against the marriage. It is not beyond the bounds of reason to suspect her of resorting to poison, particularly considering that Boris Baratheon’s health began to decline only after his arrival to King’s Landing. Maester Orwyle has even entertained the possibility of poisoning as the cause of his ailments.”

Alicent laid out her case meticulously, her voice steady and convincing. “Boris Baratheon wanted to leave King’s Landing. He wanted to take his wife with him to Storm’s End. And then he died.”

“Was it the Lord Confessor who supplied you with all this so-called proof?” Aemond inquired, well aware of Lord Larys Strong’s cunning nature. He did not doubt that it was him that had whispered in Boris Baratheon’s ear, after all, he knew that Larys had gone to the extreme of hiring thugs to assault the Princess and ship her away, in an attempt to prevent her return to King’s Landing and the subsequent marriage. 

Yet, what Larys had failed to consider was the ferocity that Daenera possessed–the same ruthlessness that had enabled her to slowly poison her husband over the course of several months. Aemond found himself inexplicably drawn to this darker aspect of her character. 

“I find it hard to believe that the King would consent to executing Daenera on the basis of hearsay and speculation,” Aemond said, feeling the ache within his head intensify. It only served to make him dig his thumb further into the cut on his palm, attempting to ease the pain in his head by applying it elsewhere. “And should she end up there, I would be right beside her.”

“I would never allow that to transpire,” Alicent assured him fervently. 

“Daenera won’t hesitate to drag me down to the depths of the seven hells with her. Should you choose to unmask her, she’ll unveil our affair and impute her husband’s death onto me,” Aemond argued, laying out the perilous situation at hand. 

He had entangled his fate so intricately with hers that if she were to face the executioner’s blade, he would undoubtedly share the same fate. A tumultuous storm of hatred stirred within him, twisting and turning with a cruel ferocity. It had once been simpler to harbor hatred for her, to desire her ruin and expulsion. 

Yet, her poison had infiltrated his being so profoundly, so extensively, that attempting to extricate it now would only result in his own demise. He’d have to bleed himself dry to remove it from his blood.

Aemond was acutely aware that this moment of reckoning was inevitable. However, he hadn’t anticipated the overwhelming sense of shame that now consumed him, rendering him incapable of confessing the full extent of his transgression or how deeply she had managed to poison him. 

Alicent shook her head, her frustration palpable, her voice elevated in reprimand. “How could you allow yourself to be put in this position?”

Inside Aemond, a blaze of folly and recklessness danced, growing more intense and vibrant with each day that passed. He had endeavored to quench the flames, to submerge himself in a sea of loathing and bitterness, permitting the aridity of his past to dominate his thoughts. It was never his intention for things to unfold this way. 

Yet, his animosity and spite transformed, becoming like oil that, when spilled upon the flames, only served to invigorate the fire, causing it to roar with even greater ferocity. The disdain he wished to harbor transformed into fuel, strengthening the very emotions he sought to extinguish.

Aemond was painfully aware of the absurdity of his emotions, yet, akin to the stars strewn across the night sky, they remained constant and unyielding. These feelings persistently gnawed at the very core of his being, a relentless force that refused to be extinguished or ignored. 

His gaze fell to his hand, where he pressed his thumb into the wound, the blooming of blood stark against the white of the bandage. 

“You claim your purpose is to gather intelligence, yet don’t you see the danger in drawing the enemy so near? She could very well be employing the same strategy against you, Aemond,” Alicent asserted, her voice laced with skepticism. “I implore you, do not descend to their depths. Daenera takes after her mother: she is proud and insolent. I cannot blame her for this, she has been brought up in ignorance.” Alicent reached for her son’s hand, taking it in her own, a furrow creasing her brow as she studied the bloodied bandage. “You must not allow her corruption to taint you.”

But the corruption had already taken hold. 

It had slithered beneath the door in the dead of night, worming its way beneath his sheets to stroke his skin, as it dribbled onto his tongue and slid down his throat. Daenera’s presence had contaminated him, and with every kiss she bestowed, he willingly imbibed more of her poison.

“Don’t even dare to suggest that you intend to pursue this perilous romance,” Alicent admonished, seeming to catch a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability that had managed to break through his composure. 

Facing his mother squarely, Aemond’s eye bore into hers as he boldly articulated his emotions, thereby confirming her worst apprehension. “I want her.”

Aemond watched the astonishment flicker across her face, weaving into incredulity. Her head shook in denial as she averted her gaze from her son. “She is our enemy. You know this. You cannot harbor feelings of love for her. Should she succeed in her endeavors, with Rhaenyra ascending the throne, our lives are forfeit. Your siblings, your niece, and your nephews, and I–we will all face death.”

“I am aware,” Aemond conceded, his tone laced with solemnity, fully cognizant of the grim fate that awaited them should his half-sister claim the throne.

“You are aware?” Alicent’s voice rose in anger. “I am inclined to believe that this infatuation of yours is nothing but a ploy of hers. She is beguiling you, Aemond. You must realize, there is no conceivable future wherein you could attain happiness with her. Are you prepared to risk us all for this… this infatuation?”

“Mother, haven’t I consistently fulfilled my obligations? Haven’t I loyally stood by Aegon’s side, serving as his keeper for all these years?” Aemond’s voice escalated, reverberating through the confined space of the litter. He had always done as he was commanded, he had never shirked his duty or wavered in his loyalty. “Have I not adhered to your every directive as you seek to put the crown on my brother's head? Have I ever asked for anything?”

As their transport meanered towards the Keep, thin beams of sunlight illuminated his words in a light far too bright. The muted sounds of the city’s activity brushed against the litter’s exterior, oblivious to the turmoil swirling within him. The outside world continued on, completely detached from the inner conflict tearing through Aemond’s thoughts. 

“I will not neglect my responsibilities,” Aemond continued, his words a promise determined to assure his mother of his loyalty. “I will protect our family and stand by as Aegon ascends to the throne. I will uphold my brother’s rightful claim and stay faithfully by his side. I know my duties, Mother. I will not waver in them.”

His face hardened as he met his mother’s gaze. “But I want her.”

“And what if it comes to a point where you are compelled to take her life to safeguard our family?” Alicent interjected, her tone laced with severity.

“I would do it,” Aemond declared instantly, without any hint of hesitation. 

The realization struck him with a sudden ferocity, like a bolt of lightning striking a tree and splitting it apart. He acknowledged that he would follow through on any command his mother gave him, even if it meant he would have to kill Daenera. He would steadfastly grasp onto the belief that it was a sacrifice made for the sake of his family. Doubt had no place here; it could not be permitted to sprout and flourish. And, in that moment a stark revelation sent a tremor through him, he understood that in doing so, he would also be interring his own heart, laying it to rest alongside hers. 

He felt his mother’s gaze on him, as she allowed the silence to stretch, counting the heartbeats that passed, one after another. “You wish to wed her?”

Aemond stared back at his mother, the truth at the tip of his tongue. 

He had already bound himself to her, though not through any formality recognized by the gods or men. He had committed himself to her on that silent night, with only the crackling fire as their witness. He could still feel the lingering sting from the dragonglass that had cut into his palm, feeling it fresh as he had aggravated the wound to center himself. And when he instinctively licked his lower lip, the metallic tang of copper was an imagined yet poignant reminder. 

He fully understood what it meant when he had asked her to partake in the ritual.

Even prior to that clandestine moment of unity by the fire, their fates had become intertwined. When he had witnessed her in her vulnerable state, battered and bruised, and she had determinedly slid the ring onto his finger with a singular intention of orchestrating her husband’s death, they had irreversibly tethered their destinies together. 

“Aemond,” Alicent’s voice, softer now, pulled him back as she brushed her thumb against his knuckles, clutching his hand between hers. “Nothing good will come from a union with her.”

“I am aware.” Painfully so. Aware of his own fallacies– he understood that it was irrational of him to want her. But he did.

His mother’s voice grew more insistent, “ Do you truly believe she will harbor any fondness for you after we dethrone her mother? Marry her, and you would be shackling yourself to a sinking ship, naively hoping to stay afloat.”

Much like a moth to a flame, Aemond found himself inexorably drawn to her. They were entwined in a perilous dance, destined to either blaze gloriously together or to be consumed utterly by the fiery passion they shared. 

He was conscious of the fact that this love of theirs was about to end in ruins, yet he yearned for her with an intensity that consumed his very soul. He was prepared to face her scorn, to endure the storm of her rage and resentment when he would eventually take away her mother’s crown. He desired her presence so fervently that he was willing to brave her fiercest wrath, as long as she remained alive and within his reach, safeguarded by his own hands. Even if she were to set their world aflame in her fury, he realized, he would still crave her with every beat of his heart. 

And perhaps, that should be the very reason to withdraw, to turn from her and submerge himself in his own resentment. But he had tasted her poison so sweet, and now he was dependent on it. 

Nevertheless, Aemond understood the grave responsibilities that rested upon his shoulders. If circumstances demanded, he would do whatever was necessary, for the sake of his duty . 

“My heart is heavy with worry for you, Aemond. I cannot bear the thought of you venturing down a path only fraught with anguish and torment. A mother only wishes happiness for her child.” Her hand gave his a squeeze. “Daenera, she is a tempest, and she will never cease her fight against you–against us. She’s her mothers daughter. I beg of you, my son, please reconsider.”

Her hold on his hand grew even tighter, as though she harbored a deep-seated fear that releasing him would send him spiraling beyond her reach, lost to her for all eternity. The intensity in her grasp was palpable, a silent, desperate plea etched into the very act, begging him to stay, to listen, to understand. 

“I fear, if you continue down this path it will be the death of you,” Alicent continued, her voice wavering with emotion as she looked upon him with an expression that fell somewhere between pity and disbelief. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

A spiteful spark kindled within him, tempting him to defy his mother’s words and confess the profound, poisoned depth of his desire for Daenera. He yearned for her with a fervor that burned as fierce as his desire for the throne, a desire selfish, intense, and utterly overwhelming. His longing for the throne may have been an impossible dream, but Daenera–she was within reach. He craved her in a way that was devastatingly vulnerable, bordering on pitiful. Despite the turmoil within, he could not deny the raw, unbridled truth–he wanted her, desperately and completely. 

And yet, he could not have her in the way he wanted. 

“Aemond, you must not bind yourself to her,” Alicent implored, her words piercing through his meticulously constructed facade to embed themselves deep within his very being. “She will steadfastly uphold her mother’s claim to the throne, and in her fervor, she will lead you into the depths of the seven hells. I cannot, and I will not permit her to do so. You are my son. I will not stand by and watch you cast your life away for an infatuation.”

As she reached out to him, her thumb delicately traced the edge of his scar, her touch imbued with a profound emotional intensity. The sensation penetrated his skin, igniting a cascade of memories–the cold steel of the dagger cutting through his eye, the scalding warmth of his blood streaming down his face, the feeling of the remnants of his eye being pulled out of his skull before it was stitched up. He could feel the agonizing pain radiating through his skull, fiery and unbearable, and the unyielding pressure of the sapphire embedded in his socket against the most vulnerable tissues of his head. 

Her gaze lingered on the disfigurement marring his face, darkening with a potent blend of love and fury, as though she was silently vowing to retaliate for the grave injustice inflicted upon him. A whirlpool of resentment surged within her, fueled by the sorrow of her inability to shield her son. She alone had clamored for retribution–for justice. 

“Never forget what they did to you,” Alicent asserted to her son, her voice imbued with a maternal authority. “What they will do to all of us should Rhaenyra take the throne.”

“It is not forgotten, Mother,” Aemond promised, grinding his teeth against the pain and the resentment it fraught within him. “I will demand justice for the both of us. I will always do my duty.”

Gently, Alicent pressed her lips to his forehead. “Word of this mustn’t get out. Do you understand?” 

Aemond surrendered to the tempest of pain, closing his eye as it surged through him with relentless force. Amidst the pain, he became acutely aware of the pulsating ache in his hand, a vivid reminder of another wound, another moment of vulnerability.

Daenera felt weariness wrap around her like a heavy cloak as they navigated the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast, with the fading light of evening casting long shadows across their path through the courtyard. A relentless headache crept up from the nape of her neck, embedding itself firmly within her skull and pulsating with a persistent discomfort. The muscles down her back seemed to protest, fatigued and strained, bruised and frayed, as she continued towards her chambers. 

“Could you ensure that Kevan has carried out his instructions, Fenrick? I need to be certain that the woman is safely beyond the city’s limits,” Daenera requested, pushing open the doors to her chambers and striding into her sanctuary, with Fenrick and Joyce trailing behind. The sweet smell of incense lingered uncomfortably in her nose, and she was sure it had permeated the fabric of her clothes. She swiftly removed the mourning veil from her head, releasing a few rebellious strands of hair as she tossed the headdress onto a solitary chair beside the mirror in her bedchamber. She rotated her neck, seeking relief from the tightness that had sent in. 

“Of course–seven hells!” Fenrick’s words cut through the air as his eyebrows knitted together in a harsh frown. 

Daenera’s gaze swept towards her bed, landing on Aemond, who lay sprawled out across the mattress in a display of casual arrogance, his arms folded behind his head and his lone eye shut. She couldn’t suppress an eye roll as Fenrick’s scowl deepened, his gaze locked on the prince as if he could make him disappear with sheer force of will. His disdain, however, would only serve to solidify his presence. 

“He has no business being here,” Fenrick declared tersely, tension radiating from him as Daenera began to unravel her hair. “Have you thought about the consequences if he is seen here?”

“Did you come through the main door?” Daenera inquired, fixing her gaze on Aemond through the mirror’s reflection. He remained unperturbed, blissfully indifferent to Fenrick’s mounting irritation. 

“No,” Aemond responded, his voice laced with a carefree hum.

Tearing his focus away from Aemond, Fenrick moved closer to Daenera, his face etched with concern. “Your husband’s body has yet to be laid to rest and the court’s eyes are firmly on you; this is no time for recklessness. His presence here is ill-advised.”

“Your advice is noted, Fenrick,” Daenera retorted, her tone sharp and resolute. “I believe I’ve already assigned you a mission. Would you see to it?” 

Gritting his teeth in suppressed fury, Fenrick took a moment to compose himself before finally stepping back and offering a curt nod, acquiescing to her authority. 

Seemingly unfazed, Aemond remained on the bed, eyes closed as Daenera freed the final pins from her hair, allowing her dark locks to cascade down her shoulders. Joyce was swift and meticulous, working to undo the intricate laces of her gown and peeling away the layers until Daenera stood in her delicate underdress. 

“Joyce, would you mind reaching out to your contacts to discern whether they’ve managed to catch wind of anything significant?” Daenera requested, moving to pour herself a refreshing cup of water. “Rumors might soon be spreading like wildfire, and I would like to be immediately informed if any of it could pose a threat. And keep an eye on the rookery, please.”

“Princess.” With a nod of understanding, Joyce exited the princess’s chambers, leaving Daenera and Aemond alone. She left the empty cup on the table before moving across the room, her footsteps whispering against the stone floor.  Gracefully lifting the hem of her undergown, she positioned herself over Aemond, straddling his hips with poise. Her fingers traced across his shoulders, toying with the fabric of his undershirt as she dipped down, her lips brushing lightly against his. 

“I do not appreciate your mother accusing me of murdering my poor, sweet husband as I stand vigil by his corpse,” Daenera murmured, her fingers playing with the string of his shirt, a playful yet dark glint in her eyes. “She seems quite convinced I’ve stained my hands with his blood, all to conceal my supposed unfaithfulness…”

Lowering her head, she bestowed gentle kisses along the expanse of his neck, her breath warm and teasing against his skin. She moved her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm against him, as a hand moved lower, tracing a path down his chest, lingering at the hem of his shirt where it met his trousers. 

Noticing his lack of response, Daenera leaned back, studying Aemond’s face closely, a puzzled pout on her lips. “Is my company not to your liking tonight?”

Aemond’s eye flicked open, his gaze meeting hers with a weighty intensity. “She knows about us.”

With an increased sense of unease, Daenera shifted further away, her eyes intently scanning Aemond’s expression as she sought to understand the full extent of their predicament. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath as she processed the gravity of his words, and then slowly exhaled, attempting to steady her racing thoughts. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, she all but admitted to it, nevertheless, dread washed over her.

“What exactly has she come to know?” Daenera questioned, her voice laced with a hint of urgency as she sought more information. 

“She knows about the affair.” Aemond’s response was grave, his voice carrying a subtle undertone and words void of any reassurance. This revelation only served to intensify Daenera’s frown, prompting her to shift her position on the bed, moving to sit beside him as she thought it through. 

Daenera deciphered the confirmation in his gaze, her voice steady as she asserted, “You’ve affirmed her suspicions.”

His eye remained on her as he admitted calmly, “ I have.”

His forthrightness hung in the air between them. 

Daenera rose from the bed, a tumultuous storm brewing in her eyes as she paced the room. “Your mother won’t hesitate to expose me. She’s already planting seeds of rumors and she’s poised to tell the whole world about my infidelity. She won’t stop there; she will make sure the word reaches Borros Baratheon, severing any remaining ties of alliance that I might still have. She’s already convinced that I killed my husband, and she will make sure everyone believes it too.”

A sensation of vulnerability crept over her, akin to the harrowing moment when her husband had ruthlessly torn her gown, laying her back open for his retribution. The dull ache surged in her back muscles, while the thin fabric of her underdress delicately grazed her tender flesh. She raised her hand, allowing her finger to lightly glide over the contour of her ear. She could feel the roughness of the scabbed wound against her skin.

“Do you intend to let her label me as the great whore?” Daenera demanded, her voice laced with indignation.

Aemond, infuriatingly composed, replied in a tone that was both placid and provocative, “I would think being deemed the great whore implies a far more extensive and scandalous history of promiscuity than mere infidelity… Like your mother.”

Daenera grabbed the item nearest her, a orange, and hurled it at him in anger. It flew through the air and bounced off his body, landing with a thud at his feet. He stared at her, eye wide with indignation.

Daenera’s voice held a venomous edge, her body tense with anger as she practically spat out her words, feeling the blaze of rage and embarrassment within her, sending sparks through her veins. “Have you simply graced me with your presence to bestow upon me the courtesy of a warning? Or is this a twisted form of entertainment for you?”

Aemond’s lip curled into a cruel smirk, his gaze hard as he met her fiery eyes. “I warned her that you would pull me down to the seven hells with you.”

“And I shall,” Daenera affirmed with a sneer.

“She won’t say anything,” Aemond declared, settling himself on the edge of the bed, spreading his legs in a relaxed and infuriating manner that made her want to sink to her knees between them. Daenera hated herself for the feeling and settled herself within her rage.

A surge of bitterness and accusation resonated in Daenera’s voice as she addressed the crux of the matter, her eyes aflame with indignation. “The voice in this sordid tale is your mother. She whispered in Boris’s ear with her speculations and it sent him into that uncontrollable rage.”

The accusation brought a sharpened focus to Aemond’s gaze, his solitary eye narrowing with intensity as he absorbed Daenera’s words. A silent, raw energy emanated from him, almost tangible in its potency. 

“Perhaps we made the mistake of mistaking your husband for a fool,” Aemond responded, his voice carrying a hard edge as he refused to accept the blame towards his mother. 

“ Someone whispered in his ear,” Daenera bit back, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Your mother wanted me to leave the city and she wanted to damage my alliance with House Baratheon.” 

Aemond’s voice carried a mixture of accusation and harsh realism as he spoke, “You were aware of the dangers, the potential fallout of an affair. You knew exactly what the stakes were when you asked me to come to your private chambers. This situation, the predicament we find ourselves in–it is not my mother’s doing.”

“It is if she is the source of the whispers!” Daenera exclaimed, infuriated by his loyalty to his mother. 

Aemond maintained his poised demeanor, yet there was an underlying firmness in his words, a stark reminder of the reality they were entrenched in. His gaze never wavered, it remained coolly on her. “It wasn’t my mother.”

With a scoff, Daenera shook her head, disbelief painting her features. “Who else? Your mother will manipulate the narrative, leaking the information bit by bit while meticulously protecting your name and reputation. Your mother will shield you, but she won’t extend the same courtesy to me.”

“My mother won’t take that risk,” Aemond stated firmly. 

Daenera met his hardened gaze with a challenging glare. “She most certainly would. She will sow the seeds with great care, tend them until they flourish. She’ll do to me what she did to my mother! She’ll manipulate others to reach their own damning conclusions.”

“My mother will stay her hand,” Aemond asserted with a tone of certainty, his eye locked onto Daenera’s with an intensity that was difficult to decipher. Daenera scrutinized his features, seeking clues in the subtlest movements of his face–the way his brows drew together, the depth and hue of the sapphire that replaced his eye, the firm set of his jaw, and the almost imperceptible pull at the corners of his lips. There was something concealed beneath his composure, an enigmatic force shrouded in mystery. 

An invisible chasm began to form between them, gradually widening as the reality they had been so blissfully ignoring asserted its presence. They found themselves on separate sides of this growing abyss, a gap that threatened to either swallow them whole or stretch so far they’d lose sight of each other completely. Yet, in that moment, it remained narrow enough to be dismissed, allowing them to stand there, still within reach. 

“Why?” Daenera questioned apprehensively. 

Aemond’s reply came swift and straightforward, “Because I asked her to.”

“Your mother wouldn’t approve of this,” Daenera remarked, a slight tilt of her head betraying her skepticism as the fiery rage within her began to ebb away, transforming into smoldering embers and a lingering haze of smoke. “She wouldn’t want you here, compromising your honor by persisting in this illicit affair.”

Aemond produced a low hum, a vibration that resonated with the silence of the bedchamber, traveling through the air to send a shudder cascading down her spine. “She indeed disapproves.”

“You’re here nonetheless.”

“I am.”

Daenera’s eyes narrowed as she scanned his face, seeking answers she knew he would not reveal. “The leash has been pulled taut. At her command, you will yield and return to her side.”

“I will,” Aemond conceded, lifting himself off the bed and gliding towards her with a predatory grace. Extending his hand, he gently encased the back of her neck in his firm grip, prompting her to tilt her head back and lock eyes with him. 

“The obedient son; the faithful hound,” Daenera articulated, feeling the pressure of his fingers against the base of her skull, a touch both harsh and claiming. 

A smirk played on his lips as he responded with a drawl, “Yet here I am, bearing a wound on my palm, my hands stained– disobeying .”

His lips hovered dangerously close, tantalizingly so, as he languidly ran his tongue across his lower lip. The invitation was clear, and Daenera couldn’t help but be drawn to it, despite the storm of thoughts raging in her mind. 

“This act of disobedience won’t last indefinitely,” Daenera said and she was acutely aware that if Alicent demanded it, Aemond would retreat to his mothers side. Should his mother wish him to be wed, he would dutifully comply. She would become his clandestine affair, left vulnerable to the ruthless scrutiny of his mother.

“It reaches farther than you might imagine,” Aemond whispered, his forehead coming to rest against hers in a moment of intimacy. His other hand tenderly brushed her hair aside, revealing the bandaged wound and the dark stain of blood that had seeped through, similar to her own.

The way he looked at her seemed to say; Look at what you’ve done to me. Look at what you’ve made of me.  His thumb brushed along the curve under her jaw, tilting her head back so that her eyes met his. “It’s unfair, this desire I feel for you–it is a poison coursing through my veins, and if it were within my power to expel it, I would.”

His eye shifted, taking on a darker hue as his pupil dilated further.The rawness of his tone sent shivers down Daenera’s spine as he painted a vivid imagery–it all laid bare the depth of his desire, and the dangerous dance they were entangled in. 

  And again, with that sentence, there were the unspoken words; This desire, it is comparable to a man who has been deprived of sustenance. It is a monstrous craving, gnawing at my insides, thirsting for the warmth of your blood. It is cruel. And it makes a beast of me. “Your desire will be my ruin,” Daenera murmured, eyes fluttering as he pressed a kiss to her neck. It was indeed not fair. 

She felt his lips trail upward along the delicate column of her neck, finally tracing over her lips. He tenderly grazed his lips over hers, as though experimenting, prompting her to part them slightly, allowing herself to breathe him in, to taste the essence of his desire upon his lips. And then, he fully captured her lips in a fervent, demanding kiss, his tongue seeking entry, eager to explore the depths of her. His hands, now filled with a relentless urgency, held onto her firmly, steering her in a dance of passion as they moved in reverse.

She experiences a gentle nudge at her shoulders, propelling her gently onto the bed. The fragrant aroma of lavender from her fresh sheets and blankets wafted up, filling her senses. Raising her head slightly from the softness of the mattress, Daenera’s eyes locked onto Aemond, who seemed lost in contemplation. His fingers toyed with the fabric of her undergown, slowly gathering it in his hand, bunching it as he gradually exposed more of her legs. The hem teased her knee, caressing her skin as it continued its journey upwards, unveiling the lush curvature of her thighs. His dark gaze lifted from her legs, locking onto hers, consumed by a ravenous hunger in his visible eye. 

Lifting herself onto her elbows, Daenera spoke softly, “We should put an end to this.”

“You’re right; we should,” Aemond concurred, his hand tightening around the fabric of her undergown, as if he loathed to release her so easily.  

“Yet, both know we won’t” Daenera added, her legs gradually opening for him in a silent invitation. 

“It seems my desire for you is not the only one that leads you to ruin,” Aemond whispered huskily, his hands finding her knees. With a sudden, forceful motion, he yanked her towards the edge of the bed, causing the hem of her undergown to rise and reveal more of her, the intimate curls of her cunt now exposed. 

The slick wetness she felt between her legs spoke volumes of her desire, a familiar, pulsating ache spreading through her, as if the desire had a heartbeat of its own. She half-expected him to undo the laces of his trousers; however, he surprised her by sinking to his knees on the cold stone floor. Unceremoniously, he pressed his lips passionately against her, a bold and direct move that left her gasping. 

A surge of intense pleasure caused Daenera’s legs to involuntarily clamp around Aemond’s head, but he was quick to respond, firmly parting her thoughts once more as he unabashedly ravaged her clit with his skilled tongue. He rolled it over the sensitive nub, creating waves of pleasure, before taking it between his lips to suck at it fervently. Daenera’s breath hitched, a moan spilled from her lips, echoing through the chamber as her fingers gripped the sheets beneath her. 

“Aem–Gods!” Daenera exclaimed, her back arching off the mattress as Aemond’s relentless attention continued. She could feel her own arousal trickling down, dampening the blanket draped off the bed’s edge. 

His hands, now more insistent, held her open wider, granting him unrestricted access to delve his tongue through her drenched folds, circling her clit before drawing it back into his mouth, sucking at it. His actions were almost punishing, pushing her even closer to the brink, as if he were channeling fury into desire. 

And perhaps, Daenera realized, he was both furious and voraciously hungry for her all at once. 

As Aemond looked up at her, his eye sparked with a wicked delight and a ravenous intensity, promising complete and utter consumption. She was under no illusions; he intended to devour her whole.

The lascivious symphony of his tongue delving into her soaked folds filled the air, blending seamlessly with her ragged moans and sharp intakes of breath. Daenera writhed under his ministrations, her body responding instinctively, her core tightening in anticipation. Her walls fluttered around the emptiness, craving more as he drow his tongue inside of her, feasting on her like a man ravaging a ripe fruit with his bare hands. He sucked at her, drawing out her juices, indulging in her as if she were the sweetest nectar. 

Daenera’s entire being seemed to constrict as her climax washed over her, her essence spilling onto Aemond’s tongue while her legs trembled around his head. A prolonged, resonant moan escaped her lips, filling the room as her back created an arc off the bed. She struggled for breath, gasping in short, choppy inhalations, as he continued his ministrations, dragging his tongue up along her folds to lavish attention once more upon her sensitive clit.

He shifted, trailing his lips away from her cunt, nestling his nose close and taking a deep inhale of her unique scent. This intimate act sent a wave of heat to Daenera’s cheeks, tinging them a deep shade of red as she registered the unabashed audacity of this action. 

“I would have taken you in the sept,” Aemond murmured, his voice low and husky. His breath tickled over her wet cunt, his lips glistening with the remnants of her. “However depraved it is, I would have claimed you right there against the altar and fucked you like I did that night when you invited me to your chamber. It would serve as a spectacular farewell for your wretched husband.”

A laugh climbed its way through her throat and tore its way into the world. “If your mother could hear you now.”

Her laughter transformed into a sharp gasp when she felt the sudden and forceful intrusion of his two fingers within her, her inner walls clenching tightly around them. She wasn’t sure whether the sting served to sharpen her desire or whether she wanted him to pull out of her, and in truth, he left her no time to sort it out on her own. 

Aemond resumed his oral ministrations, fervently sucking at her sensitive clit. His fingers skillfully navigated her inner depths, caressing her spongy walls and pinpointing every sensitive spot to exploit. He found that area that made her hips lift up the bed, and he seemed satisfied with the reaction from the humm that reverberated through his lips and into her clit. 

Shifting her position, Aemond guided her legs to rest behind his shoulders, leaving her entirely exposed and at his mercy. His other hand wrapped around her hip, holding her firmly in place as he relentlessly fingered her, his tongue gliding through her wet folds and applying pressure to her swollen, overly sensitive clit. 

“‘s to fast,” Daenera breathed, her hands desperately clutching the sheets, her body trembling as he propelled her towards another overwhelming climax. The intensity of the sensation bordered on pain, and she dragged in ragged breaths, biting down on her bottom lip in a futile attempt to stifle the whimpers threatening to escape, fully aware that any sign of her unraveling would only fuel his satisfaction. 

“Aemond,” Daenera mewled breathlessly, “I-I-I’m–”

Her cunt spasmed around his intruding digits, a surge of wetness gushing forth as waves of pleasure washed over her again. Her mind was engulfed in a haze, and it felt as though every ounce of blood had surged from her head and straight to her throbbing center. 

Aemond’s voice was husky and rough as he drawled, “Imagine if your fathers, Laenor, Harwin… Daemon witnessed this scene,” whilst wiping his chin against her inner thigh, leaving a trail of warmth. “Here you are, breathless, whimpering sweetly, all while being thoroughly fucked by a man they hate.”

Daenera let out a sharp yelp when he delivered a slap to her cunt, her inner walls clamping down tightly around his fingers. Her eyes widened in a mix of shock and pleasure as another spank landed, his lips planing forceful kisses along her inner thighs, enough to leave a trail of blooming purples and reds. Every now and then, he would bite into the soft flesh, an exquisite mixture of pain and pleasure. He slapped her once again, and then twice, before resuming the motion of his fingers. 

The sensation was intense, almost too much to bear. Her cunt were incredibly sensitive following her consecutive orgasms, yet Aemond showed no sign of relenting. His eye gleamed with mischief as he lavished attention upon her with his tongue, switching to suckle at the flesh of her other thigh. Meanwhile, one hand resumed its rough movements inside her, while the other teased her swollen, tender clit, now a vivid shade of red from his persistent attention. 

“Please,” Daenera found herself whimpering, caught between seeking more and begging for reprieve. The amalgamation of pleasure and pain created an overwhelming tide of sensations, her mind swimming with it. “It’s too much—I can’t—Aemond–”

Her breaths came out in quick, short pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck–Aemond.”

Her pleas were breathy, filled with desperation as she was swept further into the storm of her own senses, her cunt fluttering and gushing. 

Upon turning her other thigh into a canvas of blossoming hues, Aemond shifted his attention back to her clit, showering it with fervent kisses. The mere contact was enough to send her spiraling over the edge once more. Daenera’s eyes fluttered closed as pleasure washed over her, her hand tangling in his hair, torn between drawing him closer and pushing him away.

Aemond relentlessly coaked four additional climaxes from her weary body, pushing her beyond her limits until she was left breathless, whimpering, and completely lost in the sea of overwhelming pleasure, skirting the line of exquisite torture. 

Her legs shook uncontrollably, her body rendered boneless and weak, leaving her in a state of blissful surrender. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she vowed to one day return this torture. 

Only then did Aemond finally draw back, discarding his shirt and using it to wipe away the remnants of her pleasure from his face. 

Daenera lay sprawled on the bed, her entire being buzzing with sensitivity, her gaze hazy as she stared unfocused at the canopy above. 

Without a word, Aemond reached out, his hands securing her hips as he gently rolled her onto her stomach, her hair spilling into her face. Her hips and legs now dangled precariously over the bed and were it not for his hold, she would have slipped onto the floor. Her breath caught in her lungs as he began to knead the flesh of her backside. He worked the underdress up, higher and higher, only to abruptly stop. 

A deep, guttural groan escaped Daenera’s lips as she felt the head of his cock teasing her swollen folds, drawing up and down her slit before finally piercing her. She felt her inner walls tighten around him in an overwhelming mix of pleasure and intensity as he pressed further and further inside her. A raw whimper tore from her throat as her body stretched to accommodate him, her muscles fluttering around him in a conflicting dance of resistance and invitation. 

Just as he was on the verge of burying himself completely within her, he withdrew, only to abruptly snap his hips forward, filling her entirely. His cock stretched her tender walls to their limit, reaching depths and applying pressure in ways his fingers never could.

 Daenera felt her body respond, clenching tightly around him once more, as a wave of pleasure surged through her, culminating in a small, yet intense orgasm from the force of his single, powerful thrust. 

“Would you have liked me to fuck you infront of your dead husband?” Aemond questioned and she heard the sound of his breath being drawn in through clenched teeth. 

With her head turned to the side and hands gripping the sheets tightly, Daenera braced herself as Aemond established a fierce and relentless pace. His hips crashed against her backside, the sound resonating through the room as the impact caused her flesh to quiver. His testicles consistently struck against her overstimulated clit, each contact stealing her breath away in a series of soft mewls. 

“Hmm?” Aemond hummed and she could hear the smugness in his voice. “Have I managed to fuck you silly.” 

Daenera could not form a word of reply, her mind scattered completely. 

Aemond’s hands were firm on her hips, his fingers pressing deeply into her flesh, as the room was filled with more sounds. A low, guttural moan vibrated from his chest as he relinquished his grip on one of her hips, his hand moving to grasp the nape of her neck instead. He continued his merciless thrusts, dominating her completely, as her body surrendered to his relentless pace and power. 

As Aemond reached his peak, releasing his seed deep within her, Daenera felt her own body respond in kind. Her inner walls tightened and fluttered around him, coaxing her into one final, overwhelming orgasm that left her utterly spent and limp. She was acutely aware of the warmth of his release filling her, mixing with her own fluids that were already trickling down her thighs. 

When he finally withdrew from her, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as a rush of their mingled essence flowed out. Had her grip on the sheets been any looser, she might have found herself sliding onto the floor, her body unable to support her any longer. Her eyelids fluttered weakly, her mind bathed in a serene and blissful silence, as she lay there, completely ravished. 

Daenera was almost entirely unaware of Aemond’s movements throughout the room until she felt a cool, damp cloth gently caress her inner thigh. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, revealing Aemond attentively wiping her down, removing any excess of fluids. His cheeks were tinged with a soft flush, and beads of sweat clung to the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

With a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his earlier fervor, Aemond guided her beneath the comfort of the covers. Silently, he joined her, his actions marked by a quietude that enveloped the room in a serene calmness. 

As dawn broke, Daenera discovered that Aemond still lay beside her in bed, undisturbed by the morning light, the sapphire gleaming with something unknown. The morning held a new sense of intimacy and closeness, as their usual dalliance had always ended by the first morning light. 

And much to her servants dismay, Aemond remained in bed sleeping while she was made ready for the sept.

Finally! After posting every day for over a month, we've reached the point where we've caught up to the story! From now on the newest chapter will be posted on Fridays after being posted on AO3.

[healerelowen]

Hello hello! Back again with some stuff!

You have no idea just how long I was waiting for someone to ask me this. But for some reason I can't find the ask in my inbox. I don't think I deleted it, so I'm not sure where it could've gone.

But anyways, this was requested from someone so whoever requested hi hello here's the stuff you asked me for :)

I hope you enjoy and have a good rest of your day/night!

-Scrybes with a reader who’s getting gray hairs-

—

Leshy

Leshy is able to pick up that you're growing in gray hairs fairly quickly. He’s quite observant and tends to notice a lot of things about people that others would usually miss. 

With that said, this results in Leshy just..staring at you..trying to pinpoint which area is becoming more gray than the other. Not in a weird way, of course, he’s merely watching your telltale sign of aging growing more and more as time goes on. 

He doesn’t necessarily make comments on it, he does point it out the first time he notices though. Whether or not you noticed before he did depends, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything about it. Why make such a fuss over something that is simply a sign of aging? 

If you were to be a bit self conscious about your gray hairs, then Leshy is certainly quick to reassure you. Simply telling you that there is nothing for you to worry about, and that the process was only natural in all life. Even wolves get gray around their muzzles at some point, so you are no different. He will try as best as he possibly can in his own Leshy way to help you feel better, either by incorporating your aging state into his game in a more euphoric way or perhaps showing you an elder beast or two to show you that there’s nothing outlandish about your predicament. 

This does not stop him from treating you the same as ever, a small quip here and there but little else. You’re simply growing with time, just as much as any life that graces the Earth. But at the end of the day, he still sees his precious challenger just as much as when you first met. 

Grimora   

Grimora is another that’s quick to catch on that you’re growing in gray hairs. In fact, she’s rather elated at the news! It only brings her great joy that you are showing your age more prominently, though she won’t force you to enjoy it with her, but not without providing some insight to hopefully give some food for thought. 

She doesn’t point it out immediately after she notices for the first time, only if you don’t after some time passes. A simple, “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately, dear?” is probably what she would say in regards to pointing it out, but definitely in a more polite sense than if you took it out of context. Like Leshy, she doesn��t make a huge deal about it. Sure, she’s glad to see it, but she won’t push her limits especially if you’re uncomfortable.

Speaking of which, if you were feeling self conscious about it, Grimora is also quick to help regenerate your mood, although likely not as immediate as Leshy. To help you feel better, she would likely give you reassuring words and general comfort. Perhaps she would even guide you to her special mirror and point out just how lovely you look with gray hairs, explaining that whatever effects of aging show on your body, don’t affect just how much she loves and cares about you. She would also ask a few of her ghouls who definitely would have had such gray hairs about it and gain some reassurance from an outside party to further prove her point. 

Grimora loves the slight situation that you have, seeing it as nothing more but a shining example of just how resilient you’ve been throughout the years to get to this point in your life. 

P03   

“Haha old.”

P03 would undoubtedly say that the minute he notices. Of course, he doesn’t exactly mean to be rude entirely, but it definitely is to tease you at least a little bit. If that wasn’t enough, he makes sure to comment on it almost every single day afterwards. It only upticks the teasing and banter that was already being tossed around preemptively. Unless of course you say otherwise, in which case he will respect that with a slight huff. 

He certainly comments on it the most out of the four by a long shot. In fact, most of the insult humor is based around you and becoming older with gray hairs. He just will hardly ever stop running its voice box about it until the day it rusts over.

 On that note, he can’t help but feel at least a little anxious. As he knows that you’re only inching closer and closer towards death and that your discoloring hair is only a sign that your time is just barely starting to wrap up. But like hell he would actually admit that to anyone, no matter their relationship with it, they’re not getting a single word out of it. 

If you’re feeling self conscious about your gradual change in appearance, there’s not much that P03 can provide. But what he can do is give you someone to lean on and talk to, in which case it can provide a bit more verbal comfort and show that softer side of him that it otherwise would keep hidden away. He can’t exactly compare and show you that aging like this is normal via real demonstrations, but the words of reassurance definitely help make up for that.

P03 honestly, truly, doesn’t care about the fact that your hair is growing gray, it just loves to be a bitch about it and tease you nonstop or whenever it gets the chance given the circumstance. 

Magnificus

Magnificus doesn’t really notice a whole bunch, but that might be because he already saw it beforehand. He points it out if you don’t but in a more subtle comment that could be compliments if you look at it a certain way. Something along the lines of, “A new splash of color, dear?” 

Compliments it a lot. Doesn’t let you feel self conscious about it. Well, not entirely, he’ll let you feel what you want to feel, but definitely doesn’t let emotions weighing you down based on appearance alter your perception of yourself. 

Though like P03 he does get highly anxious about your aging. He knows that one day you’ll go, it’s going to happen, even if he hasn’t had a vision about it yet, and he dreads the day it will happen. He loves and cares about his darling too much to just let them go on such short notice, even if a few strands of gray hair are only the very brinks of the beginning of that process. It could be like a few streaks and he’d still be a nervous wreck. You might have to help him through it from time to time depending on how bad it is. 

If you were more strongly feeling self conscious about your gray hairs, he will first try and over some encouraging words. “I don’t see anything even remotely wrong, my dear, I only see a few new strokes of unique coloring on something that will always be gorgeous.” Is something that he would likely say. If that doesn’t work, then he resorts to actively doing something with you to show you that there really isn’t anything wrong with your appearance. If that doesn’t work, then he takes you to his students to get their thoughts. And if even that doesn’t work, then he’s down to his last resort; Magnificus is going to take you by the hand all the way to Grimora’s just for her to prove his point.

Magnificus will go to extensive lengths for you, more than he has ever done with anyone, ever. That’s just because he loves you so much, and doesn’t want you to lose sight of who you always were, youthful or aging.

[girl-named-matty]

Random Ominis Gaunt headcanons

Random Ominis Gaunt headcanons by me!

Aight I’ve been waiting a little while for this cutie. 

Probably got his wand at a younger age than most wizards/witches so that he’d be able to learn how to navigate around easier. 

Mom friend 

Sleeps anywhere, especially in the day because it’s always dark for him so it doesn’t need to be night for him to be super tired. 

He has more siblings than people think he’d have (this is actually canon). I’d say he has at least four siblings. Two older brothers, an older sister, and a younger sister. 

His family was actually concerned for a bit when he was born blind. After all the Gaunts strive for perfection and having a child with a disability wasn’t exactly the most ideal situation. They tried everything they could to give him proper eyesight but nothing worked. 

This did cause a bit of an initial rift between him and his family that was only exacerbated by the fact that he didn’t agree with them using the dark arts. 

Because he’s blind, he has really good hearing. He has a pretty decent sense of smell but his hearing is one of his strongest senses. 

It's part of the reason why he knows everything going on at Hogwarts. He’s always lurking around and sometimes even pretending to be asleep but because he’s already falling asleep in random places nobody questions it. But he hears everything, so he knows all the gossip. 

His ego is pretty big, but unlike Sebastian, he doesn’t let it show when his ego has been hurt. 

He’s not very competitive unless it's against certain people. But other than that, he could really care less if he loses at something. 

His handwriting is actually pretty nice, regardless of the fact that he’s blind. Sometimes he’ll have someone check his writing to make sure it's correct but his handwriting is gorgeous. 

The simplest of things make him happy honestly. He seems like a hard cookie all the time but he’s really sweet. 

Tiny things especially make him happy. Even though he can’t see them, if he can feel them and imagine them the best he can, it just makes him happy for some reason. 

Speaking of small things that don’t exactly make him happy, he’s not too good with children. I mean he doesn’t think there’s anything necessarily wrong with them, he just doesn’t really like them. They’re loud and chaotic, it reminds him far too much of Sebastian. 

That being said, if he did have kids he’d probably have only three max, no more than that. And if not, it definitely because he wants the bloodline to end with him. 

When it comes to relationships, it’d take him a while to really fall in love with someone. But when he does fall for someone, he falls HARD. 

It's hard for him to even stop thinking about them. The thought of them refuses to leave and after a while he just lets it stay and grow until he finally admits his feelings. 

He’s not too big on PDA. I mean, why would he? He can’t even see when he’s holding his S/O’s hand so why should anybody else get to see it?? 

But in private, he LOVES physical affection. He’s constantly wanting to cuddle, hold hands, etc. It's something he enjoys after not having it for so long. 

His favorite classes are Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms. 

He hates potions, not because it's boring but because he can’t seem to get anything right. Sadly for him and any other blind student in school, most of the classes aren’t very tailored to those who are visually impaired. 

He does like Care of Magical Creatures though just because every beast has a different texture and it helps him visualize it a lot better. 

And if he could get into muggle studies without his family scolding him, he would. (He did find a way to get into the muggle music classroom and he enjoyed it a lot) 

Maybe a tad bit stereotypical but I think his patronus would probably be a snake. Now I look past what his family is like and I’d say he’d find a lot of friendships with snakes since he can talk to them. 

But if you want to go in a less stereotypical route, it could be a Mongoose, who are famously known for killing snakes. (LOL) 

As for his Boggart, honestly I feel like it would be losing his hearing. Being deaf and blind would make life so much harder for him, not to mention magic probably couldn’t fix it just like his eyes. It would definitely be tragic if it ever became true and not just a fear. 

When he met Sebastian in their first year and Seb introduced himself, Ominis was a bit hesitant. After all, he had no friends up until this time. Ironically the Gaunts decided to live around muggles and of course they would forbid him from ever going out and playing with the muggle children so Ominis was often just locked up inside his room most of his childhood up until school.

But after he and Sebastian hit it off and he got introduced to Anne, his life got a lot better. He actually had some joy in his life. 

He definitely stood up to his family a whole lot more and started to outwardly and vocally defy blood purity now that he had friends who were giving him support. 

And after school he left, taking all his things and leaving. I doubt he would ever come in contact with them again and if he did, he wasn’t gonna let them pull him back into their blood purist cult. 

As for his job life after school, I feel like he could work well in the office side of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, mostly paperwork since he wouldn’t qualify for being out there fighting (as good as he at dueling, I doubt the ministry would allow him) 

And if not that, another subdivision in the Magical Law Enforcement that I feel like would do good in is the Improper Use of Magic office which is kind of ironic when you know who his best friend is. But I think this would stem from his family misusing magic all these years that he would want to help put a stop to it.  Ahhh, I love him so much. Lmk if you want a part two. (and requests are open!)

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Starved | Famished

Augh the creativitwins fic,, I loved it so so much, they'rebrothersyour honor, I wonder how would the others react when they realize what they did to Roman. Especially Logan – anon

*materializes into existence* Hi :D Idk if I've said this yet, so excuse me if I've repeated myself. Quick Note: don't have to write it if ya don't want to, btw. Take care of yourself <3 Le Request: mother hen Virgil. In any h/c situation. In any au or canonverse. (I just finished the latest addition to Code Words AND I just binged the Protector/Protecting/Protected series. Holy hell. You're one of my favorites) Anyway, hope you're doing well :D – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: starvation, cannibalism (implied very loosely)

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3502

    For Logan, working with Remus can be something of a mixed bag. On one hand, it can be incredibly rewarding to work together on a project and see it come to fruition; Remus's boundless passion is inspiring and refreshing in its own unique way. On the other, however, Remus has a tendency to…craft things that then eventually become Logan's responsibility.

He's helping Remus peruse the remnants of the latest Nightmare clean-up, going over what can be broken down safely in the Imagination and what needs to be sectioned off and dealt with at a later time, preferably with at least Virgil's help but perhaps the others as well. He's just finishing cataloging a particularly fascinating specimen that originated in something closer to Janus's side of things when he hears a voice coming from…somewhere.

"Rise above," the voice is saying, "become more than the biological drives that so harness your body. You are more than those fickle urges that drive you, you are more than the slavish brute they would make of you."

Logan raises an eyebrow, turning to locate the source of the voice.

"Rise above," it says again, "you are better than insatiable beasts. You are more than your hunger. Do not let your appetite for more overwhelm your rationality."

As he walks toward it, he spots a box on the very corner of Remus's shelf, set aside from the rest of them. Most of the Nightmares come in silver boxes with two latches on the side and a sort of projection screen that shows its contents depending on the volatility of the subject matter. This one, the one the voice is coming out of, is a dark box that has no seams or doors of any kind. And yet, as he gets closer, the very center of it becomes transparent and he peers through to see the silhouette of a man in a long, dark coat, giving some sort of speech.

"We are not uncivilized," he says as Logan's hand reaches for the box, "we are not beyond reason! We are not to give in to this thing that would seek to master us."

So entranced does he become by the speech that he fails to notice the edges of the room are blurring, that his hand has begun to stretch impossibly long toward the center of the box, nor that the man is growing closer and closer.

"Hunger is a prison," the man says as Logan finds the words on his own tongue, "and we are not beasts to be caged."

The sudden roar of a crowd jolts him from his stupor and he looks around to realize he's in a square, surrounded by people, standing at the base of a stage upon which this man holds his arms out to accept the applause. He looks up at this ashen, grey-faced figure and immediately takes in how thin he is, how much the coat even around his narrow frame snaps and blows about in the wind. He pulls his arms a little closer to himself and slowly begins to take off his tie.

Everyone else is clad in thick cloaks and almost worn garments. The chill is not insubstantial but they huddle together as though it were the depths of winter. Every face is shrewd and beady-eyed, wary of their immediate neighbor as though at any moment, they might be attacked. Only a scarce few look normal: the guards around the side of the stage, clad in a dark blue uniform not too dissimilar to his own aesthetic, and another official with a flat cap and a crest around his neck.

He looks back up at the man on the stage, then around at the rest of the square. Thankfully, whatever pulled him in here had the sense to put him near the peripheries of the crowd, but not right at the edges where he could immediately be noticed. He looks to be at the base of some big official building with transit streets leading out in all directions. A veritable cornucopia for whoever this man in power seems to be. There don't seem to be any particularly modern aspects to it. Horse-drawn carts carry rows and rows of crates. Young children selling newspapers stand at the corners, though they don't seem to be trying very hard to sell their papers. Blank grey business fronts sit between cold and desolated empty spaces with covered or broken windows above them.

In short, the place feels miserable.

Someone bumps into him and he realizes the crowd is starting to disperse. Not to be caught looking like he doesn't know where he's going, he follows a larger group toward the front of another building where a large board hangs, seemingly the equivalent of a news bulletin or at the very least, something else for him to stand in front of and not be questioned for it.

The crest of a fanged crown sits at the top, under which are the words RATIONS DELAYED, SHIPMENT HIJACKED. A few people mutter amongst themselves. Logan frowns as he looks around. This place doesn't seem to be a warzone, nor does it feel as though it has the urgency of a city supporting a war effort. Perhaps a natural disaster, then? But the infrastructure is holding up so well that it's hard to see what it might be.

"My child."

It's such an unexpected form of address that it takes Logan a second to realize it's directed at him, but when everyone else starts edging away he turns around and comes face to face with the man from the stage.

"Hello. My apologies, I didn't mean to be rude."

"No offense taken." This close, the man's voice takes on a near-silky quality that nevertheless makes the hairs on the back of Logan's neck stand up. "I saw you listening to the sermon and your reaction captivated me."

Logan adjusts his grip on his notebook. "Oh?"

The man nods, clasping his bone-thin grey fingers in front of himself. "You see, it has been quite some time since someone has attended one of our little events and looked so…well-fed."

As he says the words 'well-fed,' his eyes travel up and down Logan's body.

"I must admit, I was…it was refreshing to hear such a sermon," Logan says, "I have not often heard such sentiments conveyed so eloquently. It can be frustrating, when there is so much that you wish to communicate but you can't find the words."

The man bows his head. "You flatter me."

"Your eloquence is something to be proud of."

"Come," the man says, beckoning with a single crooked finger, "walk with me aways."

Logan follows him as they turn about the square, passing another billboard stating the rations shipment has been hijacked. The man spares a passing glance upwards.

"Shame," Logan says quietly, "isn't it?"

The man shrugs. "You cannot hope for everyone to be reasonable, nor can you see reason for them. There will always be those that believe we deserve to feed."

Logan nods along to the first part of that, but then he hears the second. "Apologies, what did you say?"

"There will always be those that believe in giving in to hunger. To allow ourselves to whet that dangerous thing known as appetite." The man shakes his head. "We much be vigilant, you know."

Surely…surely this has to be some metaphor. Surely they're not actually starving themselves. But they keep walking, further and further, until Logan notices something else.

Out of all of the things he's seen posters or boards for, out of all the buildings around square, out of everything he can see, hear, smell, everything, there is not a single mention of food.

He has an awful feeling about his perceived 'metaphor.'

"What will we do," he asks after they've started down another side street, still tailed by a few of the guards, "if the rations never arrive?"

"Then we will have to source from somewhere else."

"How long will that take?"

"It's hard to say, really," the man remarks as the air begins to turn reddish-brown, the street becoming littered with trash, refuse, scraps of paper. "Perhaps a few months."

Logan frowns. "But what shall we do in the meantime?"

"We shall press on, as we always have. We have almost switched entirely over to the pills, after all, and soon we will eliminate the need for food entirely."

Definitely not a metaphor. Definitely not a metaphor.

They pass by an alley. Down a block, Logan catches sight of a massive obstruction through the fog—when did the fog get here? Now that he's paying attention to it, a thick and soupy red fog has started to swell from the bottom of the buildings, almost as though it were coming from the street itself. It doesn't rise higher than his knees before it starts to dissipate, tendrils of mist curling up almost like steam as it rises into the air, but the swirling clouds don't do anything to soothe the grip on his notebook.

"There must be something to be done," he says as they pass by another obstruction, "surely all these people can't just starve."

"Ah, but to starve is to be free," the man says, "after all, to truly allow the hunger to run its course without being affected by its lure, that is the greatest freedom of all."

"Dying isn't freedom," Logan points out, "to starve is to die."

The man turns to look at him. His eyes, sunken into his skin, jaundiced and piercing. "All things die, my child. Will you die a beast, or a man?"

"What point is there in dying faster because you don't eat?"

Behind them, the officials get closer. One of them reaches for something in a pocket and Logan tenses.

"You are well-fed," the man says again, pointing a single, thin finger at him as the officer blows a whistle, "and you will never know what ecstasy it is to be hungry."

A deep and guttural snarling comes from the other end of the alley. Logan whips around to see two horrifying spider-like monsters crawling out of the mist. Their mandibles drool black ichor, eyes blind and unseeing but trained on him. They move with a sinister mockery of life as they begin to walk toward him. He backs up automatically only to run into a bat jabbed into his spine.

The officials form a blockade behind him as the spider monsters get closer and closer. His heart pounds. They seem to sense it and one of them snarls, rearing up as its front two legs come off the ground, lunging for him—

Another roar splits the air.

From between the spiders charges a massive hulking bear, maw dripping and eyes crazed as it bursts through the middle of the alley. Logan barely has time to throw his hands up and defend himself before the bear knocks him over and seizes him in its jaws. He cries out as it picks him up bodily and turns, running away from the officials, the man, and the monsters with him held in its jaws.

Is this how he dies? Does he get eaten here? Is the bear taking him back to kill him? Frantically, he tries to remember what you're supposed to do around bears but all that comes to mind is how to get a bear to stay away from you. In a panic, he goes to hit it with his notebook, but then he catches its gaze.

Some of the mania vanishes. The bear looks at him and for a second, he recognizes its eyes. This is how Remus's Kraken looks at him, or how Roman's dragon looks, or how any of the sentient creatures in the Imagination look when he stumbles across them.

He's safe, somehow, and he's being taken somewhere better.

That being said, being carried in a bear's jaws as it runs full speed through the forest is not exactly a pleasant journey. He suffers more than a fair few scrapes and scratches as he blunders into branches and bushes, over hills and through the underbrush. Eventually, he feels the bear slow and deposits him none-too-gently in a heap in the dip of a valley.

"Oh, hey, what'd you—Logan?"

Logan looks up to see Remus and Virgil. Remus has his hands full of something Logan will ask about with the safety of rubber gloves and an apron, and Virgil's perched on a rock. A low groaning noise from behind him and he looks to see the bear shrinking, coming out of its giant and frenzied state until it's just a cub that whuffs quietly and slinks over to Remus, lolling on the ground.

"Hey, buddy, is that why you ran off so fast?"

The bear huffs again and Remus leans down to rub their heads together.

"You're such a good boy."

"What're you doing in here, L," Virgil asks, getting up and pulling a first-aid kit out of his hoodie, "and why do you look like—well, why do you look like you've been carried through the woods by a bear?"

He crouches down and starts cleaning some of the scratches on Logan's arms.

"You know you gotta have one of them when you come in here, buddy, even when you think you know where you're going. And look at this—you gotta be more careful, you know there's some shit in here."

Logan finds himself oddly recalcitrant as Virgil starts tending to his wounds, even though he knows he should just let him. Sure enough, the moment he starts trying to pull away, Virgil looks up and raises an eyebrow and immediately he slumps and lets Virgil do what he wants.

"What's going on, bud?"

"I wasn't trying to come in here," Logan says mulishly, "I didn't even come here. Not really. I didn't use the doors."

"So then how'd you get here?"

"Don't move so much," Virgil scolds as he turns to face Remus, "you're gonna rip this one open again."

"The box on your shelf. The dark one."

Remus fully stops what he's doing to look at Logan. The bear cub growls. He vanishes whatever he's working on and grabs a rag from his pocket to wipe off his hands. He leans down to scratch the bear cub behind the ears and takes a deep breath.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

Logan recounts the story, from hearing the voice, to finding himself in the square, to being in the alley when the horrific spider things came out, to being rescued by the bear cub. Remus listens attentively as Virgil finishes tending to his wounds.

"You went into someone's intrusive thoughts," Remus says when once again, Logan asks what happened, "sometimes they're strong enough to manifest into actual places in the Imagination."

"Thomas doesn't have a history of eating disorders, and it isn't as though he hasn't been eating lately—"

"Not just that kind of hunger, L," Virgil says quietly, going back to the rock as the bear cub sits up, "and it's not…fuck, I'm not gonna be good at explaining this without violating someone's privacy."

Logan frowns. "What?"

"Those aren't Thomas's intrusive thoughts, they're a Side's."

"Who's hungry?"

"I don't know, Logan," Remus says in a voice that communicates that he does know, and so should Logan, "who do you think is hungry?"

"I don't know!"

"Yes, you do."

"What else did they say," Virgil says quietly, "in that place, what else were they talking about?"

Logan frowns, thinking hard. Something about being more than just beasts, something about rising above, something about being more than…than base desires, that was it. More than hunger.

Base desire, base desire, why does that ring a bell?

"Is it Patton?"

"Why Patton?"

"He out of all of us is the most connected to things like emotions, or shame, or guilt."

"It's not Patton."

"Janus, then? He—well, no, that wouldn't be it either."

"You're unbelievable," Remus growls, even as Virgil quietly says his name. The bear cub snarls at him too.

"What? What did I do?"

"Really? You can't fucking figure it out? They literally talked about suppressing base desires and not giving into stupid basic needs and all this stuff about being too smart for it, too good for it, how awful it is to spend time feeding the basic part of you that just wants to feel and you're having a problem figuring out what you did?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I don't—when have I ever told anyone it's okay not to eat?"

The bear cub nearly lunges at him but Remus catches it by the scruff of its neck. "Here, then, here's an easier question. The crest. The insignia. Did you see it?"

"Yes, I saw it."

"What did it look like?"

He frowns again, trying to conjure it up. It was…it had something to do with teeth, didn't it? Yes, it was teeth around something else. Something…something metal, wasn't it? A fanged metal something…a fanged…

"A crown," he says slowly, "it was a crown surrounded by teeth."

Remus stares at him. So does Virgil.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, no.

***

Roman wakes up cold. He curls up under his blankets, trying to find a little bit of warmth, before he sighs and drags himself out of bed toward the door to the Imagination. It swings open and brings him to a quiet grove in the middle of the forest, under the branches of a tree sparkling in the starlight with drops of dew. Moon lilies and other night flowers glow gently as he sits down with the blanket, curling up to lean against the soft mossy rock. A warm breeze blows across his cheeks as he tries to get warm again.

He hears a quiet snuffling sound and turns to see Remus's bear cub walking up to him, curling up at his side with its head a comforting weight in his lap. One shaking hand carefully brushes the rough fur and the cub growls contentedly, shifting Roman's hand to where it wants it.

"Roro?"

"Re?" He turns to see Remus walking toward him. "Are—did I wake you up?"

"Nah. I'm—well, I'm technically asleep right now, I guess." He gestures down at himself. "Astral form."

"Oh. Uh—"

"You're fine," he says, sitting down on Roman's other side, "nightmare again?"

"Not really. I just felt off today and I got—my room got really cold so I came in here." The bear cub presses its nose against his knee. "Hi, buddy."

"I, uh—" Remus leans up against his shoulder— "I might know why you felt really shitty today."

"Really?"

"Logan—so Logan helps me do stuff sometimes, right?" Roman nods. "Well…he found the place I'd been keeping your intrusive thoughts to deal with their byproduct later and he fell into it."

Fuck. Fuck, oh no— "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Remus says as the cub growls, "and we—Virgil and I may have knocked some sense into him."

Roman frowns. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning that I owe you quite the apology."

Roman startles and the cub growls louder as Logan walks out of the forest too, standing a respectful distance away. Remus excuses himself and Logan slowly takes his place, a little further away when the cub starts to growl at him.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, "I never…I never meant for you to feel like you had to starve yourself. You're not just some base desire to ignore, you're a lovely and priceless part of Thomas. You…you deserve to feed too, Roman."

"L-Logan, I—"

"Can I hug you, little one?"

Roman just sniffles and holds out his arms and Logan wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. The cub allows it, its nose still pressed against Roman's knee as Logan cards his fingers through his hair.

"I'm here for you," he whispers, "I will be here for you. I'll do better."

"I'm not trying to be needy, I'm just—"

"You can need things," Logan interrupts gently, "you can need things. That's being alive, that's being us, that's…that's okay, Roman."

The cub snuffles in agreement.

"Will—can we stay like this for a while, please?"

"Of course."

***

"So," Remus says, clapping his hands, "what should we do this time?"

"Logan," Virgil asks, "any ideas?"

"How would you feel about blowing up a government building?"

"Excellent."

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[triforceangel13]

A Service to the King ch. 15 (A SidLink Omegaverse Story)

Chapter 15: Interesting Life

Zelda ran a hand over Link's back as he sat next to her. They were in the headquarters near the castle, Purah staring at the two of them.

“Everything is just so intersting about the two of you,” she mused, lifting Link's hand and taking his pulse. Link didn't say a word. He felt terrible.

The illness was starting to kick in. He had a fever and felt like he was freezing. The blanket that sat tight around his shoulders was barely doing anything.

Heavy bags were under his eyes. He hated feeling like this. He couldn't wait till Sidon got there. Then he would be able to feel better.

“Can't say we really want it to,” Zelda said with a sigh, helping Link lay down on the bed, glad that the blonde didn't fight him.

“Well you princess. You had become a majestic beast and are still feeling lingerings within you despite being saved from the impossible,” Purah praised though Zelda flushed and looked away from her friend. She was honestly embarassed about it.

But it had to be done. There was no other way to save the world.

“Can we not talk about this?” she sighed softly.

“And you,” Purah said, poking Link in the forehead which earned a small grunt of disapproval. “Got yourself mated and are no where near him.”

It was his turn to feel embarassed by it. He still couldn't believe it happened. He liked the thought of being his mate but he hated how things felt.

There wasn't a way that he could be with him. He was the king and Link was just a man...though he should be giving himself more credit.

He was the champion that had saved the kingdom twice.

“Now Purah you promised to be sworn to secrecy about who the one who mated was, right?” she said with a frown. They still hadn't told her yet but from the size of the bite she could pretty much guess what species it was at least.

One way or another if she kept at it she would be able to figure it out.

“Yes princess,” she said. “I promise not to tell a soul.”

Link let out a sigh and buried himself further into the blankets, hoping to sleep and just get some relief for a little while.

If they didn't have him soon he would very well end up losing his life. He couldn't put the blame on Sidon for that.

Zelda had explained that she had more or less threatened the king to get there. Whether or not he actually showed up was a different story.

He wanted him to show up. Not just to save him but to show that he still cared for him. Sure they had expressed their love, physically and not, but there was something different about hearing the words and then being with someone.

His dark part of his mind just told him that he was just saying those things to him to keep him silent or to mate.

But Sidon wasn't like that.

He was a man true to his word and he wasn't the type to even think about just using Link for that sort of stuff. He did legitimately care for him.

His eyes started to grow heavy, his head poking out a bit to get some air.

“Rest Link,” Zelda urged him. “I'll wake you up when he gets here.”

Link let out a small noise and he was falling asleep a few moments later. Zelda moved some hair from his face and rest a damp cloth on his forehead.

“I hope he comes,” Zelda mumbled to Purah who looked down at them worriedly. “If he doesn't...I don't think Link will make it.”

*

Sidon was used to the fanfare and the guards following after him. He was used to others acknowledging him and making a big deal out of him being there. He didn't quite like it honestly so this change was nice.

Just showing up on his own, looking to be in a bit of a panic and having people even surprised to see him.

He gave small hellos and nods of his head as he made his way past others. There were mumblings of why he had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Secret business of course.

At Purah's lab he knocked on the door and then entered, poking his head inside as he ducked down into the small Hylian door.

“I'm here,” He said, breathing heavily and stepped inside. He closed the door and the first one he saw was Purah as she mixed some things together in some viles, only pausing as she stared at the king in shock.

“Thank goodness,” came Zelda's voice. Sidon glanced to the side of the room. The princess sat on the edge of a bed, pale and looking panicked herself. She rose to her feet, coming closer and grabbed his arm.

“Please,” She begged. “Sit with him. Being near you will make the progession stop.”

“Progression?” he asked. But he knew. He knew all too well.

He followed after the princess to the bed, ducking his head as to not knock anything over. He did bump something however, nearly knocking it over.

“You may be king but don't be a klutz,” Purah huffed at the man but he couldn't be bothered as he looked down at the bed.

His hand came to his mouth in shock as he looked down at the man that he had fallen in love with. His state had gone down the last time he saw him.

He laid on the bed, breathing heavily, sweat on him, his skin flushed, and a cloth resting on his forehead to try to stop the fever.

“How has he gotten this bad?” Sidon asked. “It hasn't been that long since...” His eyes flicked to Purah. Zelda waved her hand away at that.

“She knows and she won't speak of it. Quickly, please sit and hold him. Your scent will help the illness from progessing.”

Sidon did as he was told, gently lifting Link out of the blankets and sat down on the small bed, resting Link in his lap against his chest.

Link shivered from the lack of the blanket, coughing softly in his sleep.

“Why won't he wake?” Sidon asked worried after a few minutes.

Zelda paced next to the bed, biting her lip as she looked down at her friend, panic written all over her face.

“Link....Link please wake up,” Sidon said, tears collecting in his eyes. What did he do? He should have never bitten Link...even if he had been doing it through his sage.

“Purah,” Zelda said in worry. The girl was already at their side and looking at Link. She moved his shirt, looking at the blue mark on his shoulder and then up at the king.

“You didn't do this like this,” she said gesturing to him.

“Well no. I haven't been able to be with him. I hadn't even known his location,” Sidon explained. “We had been...together through a shadow of myself.”

“And there it is,” she said, pulling something out of her pouch on her hip. “He isn't bonded to you as you are now.”

“How?” Sidon asked.

“Well like you said. You had given him the mark while using the shadow of yourself,” she stated to him. “So he is bonded to the shadow of yourself.”

Sidon's eyes widened and he swallowed.

“We need to wake him to get him to summon his shadow,” Zelda said. “But how?”

“With this,” she said, waving some smeling salts under Link's nose. The hero inhaled and then coughed hard, his blue eyes opening up.

“What the heck is that?” he grunted, coughing hard and then flushed as he looked up at the king as he held him so closely. “Sidon...”

He felt odd...he was happy to see him but this sort of affection he had never shown in front of anyone else. Perhaps because it wasn't allowed.

“I'm here,” Sidon said, petting back his hair. “You should feel better soon.”

Link nodded his head and closed his eyes, pressing his face into his chest again to try to inhale his scent and get his body to calm down.

“Link, we have a hunch,” Zelda said but Purah chimed in quickly after.

“It's not a hunch. It has to be the solution,” Purah said fimrly. “Link, you must summon the shadow of Sidon to you.”

“But why?” Link asked as he lifted his head. “Sidon is right here.”

But even he had to admit that this wasn't working at all. He still felt terrible and at risk of going down further and further.

He didn't know what else to do and he was out of ideas. He just wanted to feel better....and possibly not die.

“Fine...” he mumbled.

He let out a sigh and he flicked his hand out on towards the bed. The shadow of Sidon appeared in front of them, sitting in a similar positon as Sidon.

“Sweet Hylia....” Sidon mumbled as he looked at it. He never really had the chance to look at his shade. It was amazing. It looked just like him, but blue and with a hollow expression.

He felt that pull to see throug his eyes but he felt that would just freak him out even more than he already was.

“Alright, now wha-Link?” Sidon asked.

The hylian let out a chirp and sqiurmed out of his arms, right into the arms of the shade. It pulled him against his chest and held him close. Link let out a chirp again and relaxed. Sidon looked at the scene a little sad. Why was he feeling jealousy of his own shade? It was literally him.

And yet he was upset that he wasn't the one holding Link making him feel better.

“Hmm...” Purah said as she scribbled in her notes, watching as Link relaxed and started to drift off to sleep again.

“The color is already coming back to his face,” Zelda said softly, looking to Sidon in worry who sat across watching the scene unfold before him.

“I believe I found out what happened,” Purah said and looked at the king with a small frown on her face. He paled a bit himself, finally pulled his eyes away from Link.

“What is it?” Sidon asked but he had a hunch.

“Given that you had marked him while in there,” she said pointing to the shade. “He's bonded to you, but only through your shade. Not you.”

“But that is me,” Sidon said with a scowl. “Rightfully Link should be my omega. I marked him.”

“Sidon,” Zelda tried but the angry alpha growled a bit. She let out a heavy sigh.

“There is a fine line,” Purah said. “In a way it is. But he is drawn to this now, not you. And he can't always have this out in his life to keep himself from beind sick.”

“What are you saying?” Sidon asked, his sharp teeth clenched.

“It's either you break the bond and Link risks losing his life,” Purah explained as she listed the options on her fingers. “Or you do nothing.”

“I have to do something,” Sidon snapped.

“The last option is to bite over the mark yourself....breaking your mating with Queen Yona,” Zelda finally finished.

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[demonslayedher]

Things that went through my head in this episode:

--My cheeks hurt from giggling. Given how much I love these boys now, I cannot help but laugh at the dynamics of their raw character traits playing off of each other.

--But, on my first watch, I was like, "wow, the tone of this show sure has changed a lot... hmm."

--So compare to the raw struggle between Inosuke and Zenitsu in the previous episode, here we get Tanjiro as hot in the fight as Inosuke is, and this shows off Inosuke's unique abilities and strengths better than the Beast Breath display we got a couple episodes ago. The martial artist in me cheers with this fight, especially that redirect Tanjiro does against one of Inosuke's punches.

--Nowdays, I laugh at Inosuke breaking the fight just to show off how bendy he is. It is so stupid, though, that on my first watch I wasn't amused. Although I believe now that Inosuke is the secret sauce to KnY's sweeping success, at the time, I was not prepared for that level of shallowness and stupidity. Later in the episode when he declares how he only joy in life is comparing his strength to others, I was outright disappointed in how simplistic of a character was going to derail what felt like a good story going on. But!!

--Therein lies the joy in following Inosuke's character, isn't it? He gradually learns to find more joy in life, to be open and curious, and later, to be vulnerable. In that way, his arc is even a little like Kanao's, in which, by being more emotionally vulnerable and exploring more of what he might care about, he grows deeper and deeper as a character. He discovers himself, and we get the joy of discovering that with him.

--This of course makes him excessively self-reflective Zenitsu's opposite, and it means Tanjiro takes to Inosuke in an opposite way, too--even in the midst of a fight, Tanjiro yells at him to stop pushing himself while he's in pain, to consider his own future. Tanjiro has to be the voice of fear which Inosuke doesn't have. Likewise, that voice of self-preservation and self-care comes out in Tanjiro being so tender and delicate towards this stupid boar--telling him to rest and let him eat his fill, and feeling sad for him not to have grown up with any social connections.

--And anyway, Zenitsu twice hides behind Teruko to protect him. Any sister of Shoichi must be strong. --These children are so done. --But not too done for Teruko to find Tanjiro's forehead amazing and what to touch it (an anime addition).

--Let the record stand, there were at least eight dead people. Kyogai has been trying really hard to eat, ok, Muzan????

--Let the record stand, within hours of this iconic trio being arranged, Tanjiro has knocked the lights out of both Inosuke and Zenitsu to get them to behave.

--I love these boys together so much now, they really are so funny, and the comedic timing kills me. It's just one thing after another now that they have peace and quiet and calm--they have just up and forgotten the fight they were embroiled in (and on first watch, I could not believe Inosuke just forgot about the demon in the box), but now they're yelling at each other in the forest, Tanjiro's yelling at Zenitsu and Inosuke for their rudeness around their hostess, they're just hanging out and eating together and Inosuke tries to provoke Tanjiro and gets frustrated when it backfires, Inosuke throwing the pillow in Zenitsu's face--this was the perfect time to introduce the scene changes with the drums and silly faces. Also, I didn't see any of these moments coming on a first watch, they are so chaotic and unpredictable with each other.

--On this note, please appreciate what I had for lunch today:

--To add more to the silliness of this episode, that silly BGM is a violin cover of "The Song of Kamado Tanjiro." Amazing.

--I also find it silly how they stick out like sore thumbs in this Wisteria mansion. It is, indeed, a mansion--you can tell not only the number of rooms and their generous sizes, but by the size of the pond in the garden, and the manicuring of the trees. There's lovely artwork hanging in the alcove, that's a very nice spread of tempura. Hisa-san should be the posterchild (poster-obaasan?) for Japanese omotenashi ("hospitality," but Japan really wants you know the word omotenashi to differentiate their style of service, like anticipating the needs of your guests before they have to be bothered to ask). You're doing your whole country a great service, Hisa-san.

--And freaking out Zenitsu in the process, clearly he has never had the luxury of being a guest in such a fine establishment, though I'll bet he probably got some of his debt trying to treat his ex-girlfriends to fancy restaurants (and, according to the first fanbook, one of the girls he dated was a maiko, so she'd know plenty about proper hospitality, and another was the daughter of a tea house, so she'd have known too. Doesn't mean they were fine young ladies for how they used him, though). Tanjiro, even if he hasn't stayed in a place this fancy, probably doesn't have trouble adjusting because he understands the heart behind the manners, and Inosuke... well. He's a fish out of water, a boar out of the forest, but I love how this doesn't make him uncomfortable in the slightest.

--My favorite part of this episode, a part which lives in my mind rent free and plays itself like a song stuck in my head, is the part where they are lying perfectly still in bed and Zenitsu tells Inosuke to apologize and Inosuke refuses.

--Just... after all that, AFTER ALL THAT, they have this perfectly still, perfectly timed exchange. What a good choice on the part of Ufotable, taking was what a shouting match panel in the manga and putting it into this form instead.

--And then we got Zenitsu's first glimpse of his future bride, and the moment is ruined by Zenitsu having A Moment(TM), and I, on my first watch, was putting him back on my "nope, annoying" list with Inosuke. They are... both a bit much. However, my observation on this rewatch now, being the sort of fan I am, is that having them do anything less at any of these moments just wouldn't be in-character for them.

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

The Godess and her Gladiator (Kageyama Tobio x FEM!Reader)

This takes place post timeskip but I think I've kept spoilers to an absolute minimum. Names are mentioned and that's about it.

Another one that follows the vein of "Bombshell" and "Show-off", just with a Halloween twist!

Enjoy!

'Goddamn, how the hell did you bag that?'

Now Tobio is the first to admit that he's utterly oblivious to most things, especially when it came to relationships.

(Y/N) on the other hand, was far from oblivious and could read the room a mile away, they've been translating the world for him since highschool.

This particular case, doesn't really need translating though, as Hoshiumi is elbowing him in the ribs while eyeing up Tobio's partner in her Halloween costume.

The party they're attending is mostly for the paparazzi's benefit, all-star athletes and their partners all here to look pretty, and (Y/N) did not disappoint.

Dressed as Medusa, she'd thrown everything at the costume, hand making the snakes in her hair, cleverly weaving them through her gold headpiece.

Her makeup alone had taken her hours, and now he knows why.

Tobio wonders for a moment how the hell she'd found the time to get him a gladiator getup that actually fit, and fit well, judging by the looks he was getting.

Within the last hour people around the party have started "turning to stone" when she looks at them.

Tobio shrugged as Hoshiumi whistled teasingly. 'You'd better get over there before Atsumu sweeps her off her feet.'

The setter cracked a smile, and simply said: 'She'd eat him alive.'

Not the most unpleasant thought- still, the blood tonight she remain fake, so he starts across the room where (Y/N) stands surrounded by other athletes and photographers swarm them like bees around a flower.

Her makeup is so perfect he barely recognises her until she smiles, those contact lenses are the only part he hates, they hide the prettiest eyes he's ever seen.

'There's my Gladiator, been busy?' She chirps, immediately giving him her full attention as he slides up behind her, letting her rest against his side with his hand at her hip, sliding between the sild layers of her dress.

'Iwaizumi wanted to talk shop, as always.'

(Y/N) sighed wistfully. 'Volleyball nuts, the lot of you.'

Her light-hearted teasing was earning more frequent camera flashes, and Tobio can't help the half cocked grin on his face. After years of her translating the world for him, he finally understands what she means when she says PDA is just showing off.

Right now, with her at his side, smiling in her finery having put hours into her look and fluttering about the room like some kind of deity, or perhaps a beast with no fear, Tobio feels pride swell in his chest, and it only grows with the number of pictures taken.

Every snapshot will be of his goddess, the powerhouse in her own right that lets him call her his girlfriend, the one that shares her bed with him, cooks for him, smiles for him...

His former indifference to the public eye suddenly feels like a waste when he could be here, flaunting her. He knows she's safe, because if she didn't shred anyone who touched her, he sure as shit would.

In an unusual display of humour, he poked her cheek, careful not to disrupt the black tears rolling down her face, carefully and purposefully set in place. 'You love me.'

'I do, Gods help me.'

Ushijima politely pushed into their circle, his bulk hard to miss even when Kageyama is very much in his own world. 'They've started the interviews. Romero was asking for you two.'

'Two?' (Y/N) arched a perfectly sculpted brow. Long term girlfriend or not, she's usually not sought after for the interviews and such, no matter how related her career may be. She's sure Wakatoshi mispoke, until the man dressed as Frankenstein's monster merely nodded.

'He specifically said "bring Medusa," I'm assuming that means you?'

Tobio shrugged, hand sliding to the small of her back, brushing over slim gold belts as he guided her through the crowd with a quick thanks to Ushijima.

'Are you nervous?'

(Y/N) pulled a face. 'Should I be?'

'Well, not really. They can be kind of annoying though.'

'Aren't all people kind of annoying?'

Tobio snorted and had to hide the grin behind his hand. 'Point taken. You ready then?'

(Y/N) leaned up, the distance made much shorter by those killer stilettos, and kissed him like no one was in the room. Cameras flashed, chattering started, he doesn't even want to think about what the dark lipstick of hers is doing, so he won't.

Tobio sinks into her, pawing her closer like even a breath of air between them was too much, and didn't give a flying fuck that people were watching.

When she pulled away, she was grinning, makeup surprisingly still in place.

'Always.'

[evolutionsvoid]

It is interesting how horror stories around water and the aquatic tend to be set in and around the ocean. Like, I get it, the sea is a mysterious, unfathomable place with its fair share of leviathans, unexplainable phenomenon and bizarre fates. When I travel across the ocean, I too get uncomfortable and worried at times! What I am trying to say is not that the ocean doesn't deserve this fear and wonder, but that freshwater can be just as ominous and dangerous as well! What of the lakes, ponds and rivers? Why do we not have nearly as many superstitions and worries tied to these water bodies? Is it because they are small? No, there are some massive lakes out there that can definitely make one think of the ocean. Is it because they are shallow? Shouldn't be, because there are some water bodies that far deeper than one would think possible, with hearts of darkness right below where some communities fish and swim. Perhaps it is because these freshwater sources are so close and provide so much that we don't like to dwell on the idea of them betraying us. The ponds we fetch our water from, the lakes we pull our fish from and the rivers we use as passageways and roads through the wilds. Maybe since we see them so often and see so much of them, that we believe they cannot hide much from us. What danger and mystery could possibly be within the pond we wash our clothes in? I am sure communities that live near these places do know what threats exist both above and below, I just feel that they are often overshadowed by tales of the wild sea. Perhaps this entry will go to show some folk that the simple ponds we think little of can contain their own share of monsters. When one talks of aquatic beasts, the thought usually goes to sea serpents, toothy reptiles or great fish that swallow boats whole. At the very least, people figure the monster of the deep is made of flesh and blood like them! However, in some ponds, lakes and wetlands, the beast you fear may be a plant. What I speak of is the glutwort, an aquatic plant that lives more like a creature than any rooted flower. Think of them like us dryads, not bound to earth and far more active. They grow and live in the depths of still bodies of freshwater, like the ponds and lakes I mentioned before. They can live in wetlands and marshes too, as long as there is enough water for them to hide in. Like dryads, they don't spend their whole life rooted to the soil, rather it is only when they are growing from a seed. Once they reach an essentially child form, they emerge from the mud and go onto a life of swimming and eating. They start off small, being about the size of a human head when they first pop out of the silt and muck. However, given enough time, food and space, they can reach startling proportions! As they start growing bigger and bigger, that is when this aquatic plant starts to become a menace.

To explain why the glutwort is dangerous, all we need to do is discuss how it feeds. Obviously as a plant, it gets energy from the sunlight, but such a mobile lifestyle cannot be sustained by light alone! Like dryads, it needs a real diet. In particular, it needs some meat. Fish is a big source of food for them, but to be honest, they will eat pretty much anything put in front of them. This is because the glutwort is a very straightforward hunter and eater, with no interest in superficial things like "stalking prey," "finding weaknesses" or "chewing." When a glutwort is hungry, it reaches its sense out to find concentrated areas of food, like schools of fish. In some cases, it is best to sit still and wait for dinner to swim to them. Glutworts spend a lot of their time resting on the bottom, having no need to expend energy if it isn't hunting. It is even believed that they may be able to bury their limbs in the mud to act as temporary roots to absorb nutrients. So sometimes they just sit still and wait, while others find it better to swim to where the grub is. Their limbs and tendrils help them navigate the world beneath, sometimes swimming and other times pulling themselves along by grabbing onto sunken logs and tree roots. Due to their size and shape, they aren't the most graceful swimmers, and thus the are pretty easy to notice when they are coming to feed. In that case, the food should just be able to easily flee, right? Unfortunately for them, the glutwort does not care for the chase, it wants dinner and it wants it now. To get its meal, the glutwort just...opens its mouth. The secret behind the glutwort's feeding strategy is its massive expanding stomach. It is able to swell to insane proportions, so that it can contain pretty much anything it swallows. The important thing, though, is that this huge gut not only can hold a lot, but it is also designed to hold absolutely nothing! What I mean is that it is able to flush the water out of its stomach, leaving it completely empty. No air, no nothing. This causes the gut to kind of shrivel and suck in on itself, but there is a point to that. When the glutwort opens its mouth, the water instantly rushes in to fill this void. It moves so fast into the stomach, that it easily pulls in the fish and other aquatic critters with it. When feeding occurs in ambush mode, the glutwory swallows its food so quickly that the prey doesn't realize what happened until it is already in its gut. This water vortex pulls in everything in front of the glutwort, and sends it straight to its stomach. When the mouth is snapped shut, there is no escape. Victims are left trapped in the water-filled gut, which can be fine for aquatic species and pretty bad for those who need air. Regardless of what you breathe, things become less good when the glutwort starts pumping digestive juices into the water. Those who drown are honestly the lucky ones, as the others are left being slowly digested alive, their skin and flesh burning away over the course of days. If a glutwort gets a good gutload from hunting, it will settle back down to the bottom and slowly digest it all. It may sleep down there for days, even weeks, until all the tasty bits are digested. After that, it spits out what it couldn't absorb and then begins to empty the stomach again. Soon it will be time to feed again!

So take this hunting strategy, where they just swallow any living thing they can, and then add it to the fact that they can grow to massive sizes. Start seeing the problem? The young ones stick to fish, frogs and bugs, but at a certain size, the glutwort is open to more options. Bigger fish are fine, but what are those creatures catching them? They look nice and meaty! Not going to lie, humans totally land on the menu for glutworts, as well as other terrestrial beasts! As they get bigger, they get bolder. Animals that come to the water's edge to drink can be a victim, as the larger specimens stalk the shallows for the chance of a big meal. To deal with the lower water level, they completely shrink their stomach down and lay themselves flat, so that they can better hide. When they see their moment, they lunge with mouth open and arms reaching, seizing prey and stuffing them down their throat. If they get their victim halfway into their gut, that is good enough for them, as they immediately dive back down into the water. Their quick retreat to the bottom is to finish off their prey, which need air to live. Those struggling in their jaws or trapped in their stomach will eventually drown, saving the glutwort the trouble of killing them. Once again, the digestive juices come in and melt their prey away. As a voracious hunter, the glutwort is a threat to pretty much anything that fits in its stomach. They don't care about what they swallow, as long as there is food to be gained. They target those that swim, those on the surface, those that stand at shore or even those traveling in boats. I have heard of specimens that could swallow entire canoes and their paddlers, resulting in plenty of scenarios where people "vanished without a trace." Even if people are wary of glutworts, they still aren't easy to fend off. They have strong grabbing limbs to pull folk under, and if they are dealing with a boat or victims on shore, they will gladly use a gut full of water to sink and crush. Glutworts have the unstoppable need to get prey into its stomach, so they will spend all battle trying to ram you down their throat. They will swallow your weapons, your gear and the boat you're in if they can. If you do wind up in their stomach, do not think a simple knife will save you. Their gut is incredibly durable and thick, so cutting your way through will take some time. Sadly, land dwellers don't often have enough time to saw through the stomach and escape, especially when the glutwort sinks to the bottom. Most will drown in its gut, and those who do get free may still perish trying to reach the surface.     The one mercy that comes with this is that a glutwort of that size needs a lot of space and food to survive. So in shallower waters or smaller ponds, the species will only grow so big. Then there is food to factor in, as glutworts eat a lot. What winds up happening in places is that only a few glutworts can attain such incredible sizes, as that is all the environment can support. The other ones must remain small and stunted, until one of the big ones die and free up resources. In some ponds, only one glutwort can fill this role, meaning there is only one threat to worry about. On that note, it should be stated that glutwort are surprisingly good parents despite their voracious lifestyle. The small young hang around the full grown adults, often clinging to their tendrils for a free ride and  protection from predators. When the glutwort devours its meal, the young remain on the back to avoid being swallowed. After a certain point in the digestion process, only chunks and pieces will remain of their victims. When this happens, an adult glutwort may open its maw for the little ones to swim in. Inside, they will suck up what morsels they can then leave with full bellies. On a less lovely side, the glutwort may also vomit out some meaty pieces to lure in more prey, so that they can be devoured too. And before anyone asks, dryads do not have good relations with glutworts. Why do people think all plants get along? The thing to remember is that glutworts pretty much eat anything that moves, so dryads can get swallowed too. Though they prefer meat, they won't complain eating one of our kind so long as it fills the belly. Glutworts are a bane to lily dryads, not because they target them but because these dryads wind up as collateral damage. When the beast swallows a whole bunch of water near the surface, some lilies can get sucked up too. I feel bad for anyone eaten by a glutwort because it sounds like a terrible way to go. Some folk have gotten it in their head that perhaps a glutwort could be trained and used for underwater travel. The idea is that the glutwort would instead fill its stomach with breathable air, where the owner could then dwell as the creature swims to their destination. Perhaps it could be pulled off, mainly with magic and such, but its a position I would rather not be in. Sitting in a stomach with the hope that your steed doesn't digest you seems like a terrible idea. I know trust is powerful, but so is stomach acid...     Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian

-------------------------------------------------

“Glutwort”

A while ago I read something that was talking about how pitcher plants and venus flytraps get all the attention when it comes to carnivorous plants. With that being said, I took it upon myself to seek out the other types and turn them into beasts. Justice must be given to them!

[reviewinghiccup]

RIDERS OF BERK | HTTYD SERIES | HICCUP X ASTRID

Blog Post Series : HICCUP X ASTRID

Title : Animal House

Ep/Season : Episode 3, Season 1 (Riders of Berk)

Premise:

The animals on Berk, the sheep, yak & chickens have yet to accustom themselves to the new occupants… dragons. As such, they’re not producing enough produce in retaliation to the fact. Hiccup is charged w the arduous job to synergise the situation before a horrible storms arrives. Yet a second plot-line catches my eye instead…

Romantic Development :

While it isn’t explicitly out there, and when push comes to shove, we know Hiccup & Astrid like each other. Though they are pretty low-key / inexpressive about their feelings it’s clear somethings brewing beneath the surface. Hiccup will become chief & there is no better chieftess to choose from their tribe and age-group than Astrid. Though neither of them were ever forced to choose each other by virtue of the facts.

Apart from some fraction-of-a-second glances, mostly by Hiccup, their relationship doesn’t fully bloom until much later on, but episodes like these just show you what these two were made of and why their destinies were perfect to begin with.

The episode opens w the two of them racing down a snow peaked mountain. Both equally competitive and playful. This is a side you don’t often see of Astrid. She’s mostly serious, strong and defensive. She’s obviously relaxed around Hiccup, which is why she smiles more, feels free to be herself and even dares to plays loose w the rules when they’re alone.

An accident causes an avalanche to hurl at them. Though they could’ve easily flown away, Toothless’s tail gets stuck and so, Hiccup is stuck. [Side note: I really appreciate how the technology of Toothless’s tail & Hiccup’s inventions develop as their characters do. And you even watch Hiccup tinker around and build a rep w his creations. It’s nice to watch hard work pay off, which you won’t get to see unfold just by watching the films].

Astrid swoop down to try and save them, but they fall into a ravine and while snow pours in to bury them, they seem to have entered a cavity and are quite untouched. Astrid calls out for Hiccup, who immediately holds her. This is where I melt. Though small, considered “unmanly” and even a runt in Viking culture, Hiccup is more man than many romantic leads written. It isn’t the size of his person that makes him big, but the size of his heart.

He immediately takes Astrid into his arms when she’s cold and afraid, though he must equally be. And this tender affection and compassion he has towards people, particularly her, draws her towards him more than any “pseudo-macho” facade could. He always puts the needs of others before his own.

They soon discover that it is because of their dragons that they’re safe, understanding now the ingrained loyalty instilled within the two-way dragon-Viking companionship.

This kinda proves that the timeline of this series kindles quickly after the 1st movie, because it is clear they’re not completely familiar w their dragons yet.

Excited, they convey their new discovery to their friends.

Astrid & Hiccup both love dragons. They have a passion for their pets and an unmistakable love for the beast. The only thing they aren’t sure about yet, are their feelings for each other. And are awkward about them if ever brought up.

My favourite part about the episode and why it is one of my early favourites is because this is the first time you see both Hiccup and Astrid play pivotal roles in dealing w Berk’s affairs. We know they’ll grow into the roles one day, but this is sorta where it all starts.

While it is Hiccups charge to get the animals to work together, Astrid, unlike the other teens is more proactive in helping him. She even tries to allay his concerns, and from hereon you will see that her support and presence brings a lot of encouragement and strength to Hiccup as the series progresses.

She is also always seen by his side, which is a sign of support for him and a sign of safety for her. We know she is a fearless warrior, but what I love about her is that she has a feminine side that only Hiccup gets to see. She trusts him.

This episode was lovely. Not only because of Hicstrid, but also because of how Stoic handles Hiccup’s first failure. He doesn’t berate him about it. He lets it slide knowing that his son tried his best. He encourages him. He is still there for him.

It was also great to see Toothless solve the issue by saving the sheep and then taking the initiative to nudge the sheep towards the warm circle causing all the other animals to do likewise. This display Toothless’s intelligence which is what differentiates him from many other dragons.

HTTYD is essentially a movie about Hiccup and Toothless, and a great deal about their friendship and shared characteristics. Toothless is clearly suited to being a leader like Hiccup is.

The circle of warmth they created to protect their humans was an initiative Toothless started and just like Hiccup and Astrid, every decision they make is for the betterment of others.

I’m pretty impressed w how the creators of HTTYD managed to play w the nuances of each of these strong character traits and make them as refined as they are. Beneath this franchise is a whole lot of good character building and character mirroring which is fantastic for fans like me who love dissecting these little details.

Hicstrid is an unmatched couple in the DreamWorks Universe for me.