#murdered in his own home then betrayed by his own son

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five : Part Six

Masterlist

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Seven

(Or, Alastor and the infuriating woman across the hall and her bad decision making)

Minors DNI, 18+ below

Across the hall, Alastor sat on the edge of his bed naked except for his unbuttoned shirt, head in his hands. He stared down at the proof of his lack of control, his seed that had been captured in his handkerchief and left on the floor as a reminder of this act of weakness. What was happening to him? He had never felt such urges of a sexual nature before, there was always a better way to spend his time. Even overworld, he was ambitious in his passion - there was no time to dilly dally with the fairer sex, broadcasting was an aggressive career path, even more so for a mixed person like him. He required focus, driven to prove himself to those who doubted him.

When his mother fell ill, his sisters - married with children, did not ask for but received his help. He moved his mother into his home for a comfortable life with visits from doctors as her body betrayed her. It was difficult watching her waste away, and he used his extracurricular hobby to distract him from watching her deteriorate. He couldn’t remember the exact reason for the first murder, his routine had not been established yet. But the thrill, the joy, the stimulation of taking the life of an undeserving human blessed with a healthy body while his mothers failed hers gave him a high like no other.

He was quite aware that becoming a prolific serial killer was not the best way to process grief and trauma, nor was it what his mother would have wanted from him. But it seemed like the best way to punish god for taking from those that deserve, that praised him, to enrich the lives of those that mocked. He did commit murder, yes. But it was morally argued (to him) that those lives he took were unwarranted of such a gift. They were liars and cheats, rapists and abusers - one of his final victims he discovered on the same burial ground where he discarded bodies, while this stranger was disposing of his own victim.

He was well deserving indeed, the cause for many young women disappearing off the streets. Mimzy had told him of a John coming by and taking women out who would never be seen again. Once they discovered each other, there was a fight in the bayou, one where Alastor would come out on top but the thrill of fighting his victim became part of his routine, unable to match the same energy without it. He held no qualms about his final actions in life, he had made his choices and Hell was the place to reflect on it but not regret it.

Redemption was not in his cards as he did not feel he would be able to even regret killing the people he murdered. Each and everyone deserved it. Likely the only regret he carried was that one night he did not come home, his death resulting in his mothers inevitable loneliness paired with the discovery that her son was a murderer. He might not have been considered a ‘good’ person in the end, finding more joy in murder than anything else, but he did think he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.

Since your arrival, his entire being has shifted into something…new. Beyond the bond the two of you shared through his reckless behaviour on earth, you were a fresh sinner. You still acted, spoke, dreamed like you were alive. He heard you constantly correcting yourself when talking with the others, to remember you were dead. Though your own task work through the hotel had been quiet, seemingly boring, you did it with a vibrancy he had not felt himself for decades. Your heart rate would increase when laughing with Angel, your cheeks would burn when Husk would give you a strong drink - things that made him live through it either in his room or while he lurked in the shadows. Nothing he did was ever alone anymore. You were something else entirely, and he was unsure if he would not be feeling anything with regards to your presence, you reminded everyone around you what it was like to be alive.

Yet there was a small voice that betrayed his very way of thinking, one that caused grief when it came to you. He knew very well that without your accidental completion of the half witted, unfinished spell work he truly did forget about, your soul would likely have gone to heaven. Though the judgement between sinners and ‘winners’ was not absolute in who was allowed to ascend, souls like yours did not settle with the scum that was found traversing the streets of Hell. You found a radio while cleaning up for a family you did not know, on break from your simple, modest lifestyle splitting your time from volunteering, or running marathons, or bouncing from one job to another trying to find your path through life. You rarely said anything negative, about anyone, unless it was an honest truth needed to be heard from the one you were talking to. Even then your words were gentle and caring. It was very clear it was his fault you were here, with him. Your soul came to join with the linked soul…and he was here first.

His hands fisted the hair on his head, eyes furrowed and smile shaking. Was his divine punishment supposed to continue with the fact he knew he sabotaged your afterlife? Or that the new emotions and sensations he was feeling were undeserved of someone of your calibre? Did you have similar thoughts? These questions plagued him for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was unlike him to care what anyone thought of him, for another, it was unlike him to care for another. Especially to lust after another. Sexual relations had been such an easy thing for him to avoid that now it seemed his mind was trying to make up for lost time. Everything you did was beginning to send him into a spiral, and much of the time he spent around you was containing his physical reaction to the simplistic things you did, that he would twist into something sinful.

Like today, when you were finally given breakfast, your eyes closing and lips licking as you ate whatever over sugared pastry Lucifer had grabbed for you. It was easy to imagine you in another situation, one away from prying eyes. Where the two of you could push and pull differing sensations through your bond, linking the two of you through sin. Or earlier this week, when you were reading a book in the sitting room, focused on the words on the pages, licking your fingers to turn a page, or wetting your lips during an intense storyline. He was entirely too focused on you and your actions, and the worst part was he was unsure if he could simply blame the tainted magic of your bond.

You were a demented reminder of what he had denied himself in life, a ballooning heart at every fleeting touch. He was having a difficult time remembering what he used to do or what made his mind content before you. He needed to revisit old haunts. Perhaps today he would take a walk through the doomsday district and take a few people out of their misery. Since he introduced you to Rosie she was likely not a safe place to ignore your presence as you had never once brought anyone of considerable interest for her to meet before, she would have some interrogating for him once he revisited Cannibal Town.

Yes, a visit through a district where people were. Most itching to get the worst of it over with, it was already expected by them. His presence would be doing them a favour, really. Yes, a reminder of what used to get his blood boiling before you came crashing down into his life would be an excellent distraction. Mind set on his next move, he cleaned and dressed himself for a night on the town, silently exiting the hotel with intention.

The next morning after your very intense and unexpected kiss from Alastor, your body still felt exhausted, almost like you had overextended yourself. You didn’t remember your dreams, but you were sure they were a mental drain considering the headache you were nursing. Coffee was in the Lounge, and Vaggie was sitting alone on a couch, still silent and distressed from her past coming out to the hotel. You had already reassured her that none of you really cared, this was hell, after all. But for her the only person who mattered was still avoiding her. She had been staying in a vacant room since the meeting with heaven, wanting to respect Charlie’s wish for space. You decided to enjoy your coffee on the veranda outside, wanting to give the other woman some space, and hopefully aid your head with some fresh air.

While you were checking the Hellblazer News, a small independent paper produced out of the business district, Angel came home from what was obviously a long night at the studio. When he noticed you he came and sat beside you, groaning and sinking into the chair.

“Val has been dogging me since we went out, he is so much worse than usual.” He complained, checking his phone notifications, clearing all the ones from Val, which were nearly all of them. “I’m not saying that I regret what I said, because there was no way I was lettin’ him touch anyone, but I wish I could do more than just pay for it later.” You nodded at his statement, but said nothing to encourage him to continue.

“When I came to hell I carried my sexuality like a burden, like I did overworld. It was way easier to get drugs down here, and I was easy to manipulate. I know it was my fault I gave my soul to Val because I thought he loved me, but I wish I could go back to my old self and let him know I didn’t need his love to feel good.” He sighed, enjoying a moment of silence while responding to a few texts. “Please tell me you have had shit men ruin your life too, miss girl, this can’t just be a one way street.” He smiled at his own statement, winking at you when you chuckled lightly at his self deprecating comment. You gave him an apologetic look, as your experience with men in general was pretty limited.

“My dad died when I was little, so no daddy issues…or does that give you extra daddy issues?” You said more to yourself, but Angel laughed out a ‘yea baby’ at your expense, “My mother was paranoid, positive every man ever was going to kidnap me. When she died I dated for the first time, straight out of high school, but he wasn’t bad or anything…just…I don’t know, someone to kill time with. I had no one around me, my family was small except for my Mum’s distant family in Louisiana, so I just used a dating app to waste time. But overall, my experiences have been pretty uneventful.” Mind you, this was all before Alastor, which you would not be discussing with Angel.

Angel was nodding, likely half paying attention as he was yawning every other minute, but just engaging in the conversation was good. These regular gossipy conversations distracted from your situation, which though you had mostly processed, still didn’t mean you always remembered you were in Hell. Even when you thought you knew what hell really was you were reminded of worse things you dealt with when you were actually Alive. Hell had friends, at least. Something that was sorely lacking in your life before.

“So are ya tellin’ me you don’t gotta lot of ‘experience’ with the opposite sex, girly?” He waggled his eyebrows, a smirky grin present. OH now he was engaged, because he was nosy about your sex life.

You laughed at him out right. “I’ve done…stuff, Angel. No like…actual sex, but like…oral and hands and things. The guy I did it with was selfish, and he hurt me when he tried using his hands - not a good listener. So I broke it off before we could go further. I had a feeling I wouldn’t enjoy it much. I’m pretty in tune with my own body though, and I did have some personal aides on earth. But I’ve always been more comfortable with myself.” Angel gawked at you during your ramble, you knew what was coming. “Are you tellin’ me that you’re basically a virgin?” You groaned.

“No. I mean, in the most literal sense? Yes. But I have used toys, and have had sexual contact with a guy, but honestly I don’t think of myself as one. I know what I like, and I’m totally content with that. There haven’t been many opportunities for me to hook up. Especially now, cause like…we’re in hell.” Angel burst out laughing.

“Hell is WHERE you get these opportunities! You are hilarious. Funny girl, you kill me.” You frowned at him in humour as he lost his composure. “This is where I have experienced most of my sexual escapades, and I am sure glad for it. No judgement here, that already happened.”

You spoke up in defence of yourself, “well what if I’m still waiting for a deeper connection?” He scoffed at you, back at his phone, “I can get ya a deep connection, if you get what I mean.” Eyebrows taunting you, and you burst into laughter again, causing him to join in. After a good chuckle, you both settled into your chairs, just enjoying each other's company as Angel scrolled through his social media and you hit the bottom of your cup. It was him who broke the silence.

“I gotta real question for ya though. What is your deal with Alastor?” You tried to snort and look indifferent to him, but Angel was so goddamn good at reading people you were unsure if it would work. “What do you mean?” Attempting to sound confused at his insinuation. His deadpan look of reply made you groan inwardly. “Girl, I’m good at lots of things, but I’m best at picking up tension. Especially of the s~exual nature.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you his famous seductive eye. You thought you were keeping yourself together, hopefully you could keep it going.

You laughed, swatting your hand at him, “Me? And Him? Wait no, Him? Sexual anything? Are you sure we're thinking of the same Radio Demon? He can barely stand me, Angel, I’m sure whatever tension you’re picking up on is simply murderous.” You couldn’t meet his eyes however, staring at the horizon instead, scared the contact would break your composure.

He hmphed. “Girl, if it was murderous you couldn’t be here after he left your room last night.” Shit, he saw Alastor leave your room? Sloppy on his part. You had to go into damage control. “Nothing happened, Angel. Lucifer, Alastor and I went out earlier. And as you know, Alastor does not care for Lucifer. He was merely confirming some of the final details of Lucifer's plans, as he chose to ignore the man for a majority of our excursion.” Man, Hell was making you a great liar.

“Girl.” Okay, maybe not a great liar.

“He was zoned in on your room. On my way back to my room, he flew out of his like a bat out of here, and the vibes he was givin’ was not ‘just wanna double check a few things’, it was obvious. Plus, I didn’t hear no talking, cause your door was open. I heard some other stuff though. Sounded hot.” This was when your face broke, and a blush flew across your face. Angel’s laugh of confirmation got you to look over at him.

“Re-Lax. As if anyone would believe me if I said anything anyway. He’s a creepy mystery. And if he’s hot for you, you’ve gotta be some kinda creepy mystery as well. Cause whatever you did last night made him terrorise the doomsday district after.” He had stood up at this point, stretching so much his back cracked and he sighed in relief.

“Wait, what?” You said once his words caught up to you. “What did he do?”

Angel yawned, and tucked his chair in, leaning on it towards you. “Last night, after he left your room, he went and went full Radio Demon on their asses. Like, mass genocide shit.” Another yawn, he waved a hand at you, “I’m goin’ to bed doll. I’m beat, but yea. You wanna keep thinking nothing is happening between the two of you, you can join me on a double tonight.” You were so concentrated on your own whirlwind thoughts, you asked him to repeat himself. “You wanna join me on my double?”

“Double?” Double what? He groaned. “Fuckin’ virgins man, a double date. Cherry was gonna join me but she’s just bailed, something about blowing up a building on the edge of Vee town. Can’t blame her for wanting to but I can’t go, Val would literally kill me.” A double date? Good grief. Was that a good idea? What exactly was going on with you and Alastor anyway? It wasn’t like you two had any real discussion, you both were just playing a game of touch and go (quite literally). You hadn’t thought too much about him outside of that though. You obviously were physically attracted to him, somehow, despite his frightening existence. But was it because of the bond or because of the growing tolerance to each other's presence? You supposed there was only one way to start figuring it out.

If Alastor needed to kill a bunch of people to figure his shit out, perhaps you could do the same with dates. Angel was right, you didn’t have a lot of experience with men. Maybe you could have a similar connection (though not so binding), at least emotionally, with another person? Who knows. You reluctantly agreed to join Angel, deciding getting out of the hotel, away from Alastor, might help you think. After getting the details from him he left, and you sat in your chair, instantly regretting what you had just agreed to. And regretting that you would have to convince Husk to 3rd wheel with the two of you. You groaned, rubbing and squishing your face with your hands.

Later that night, after complete Radio Silence from Alastor save for his actual broadcast of jazzy upbeat lackadaisical tunes, Angel dressed you up like a little doll and the two of you all but skipped downstairs, geared up to go. You were going to be walking to this club called ‘Lounge’. It served appetisers, cocktails and had live music. It really sounded like a good time and when you focused on that part, not the date, you were pretty stoked. The dress code was semi-strict, according to Angel, and he had chosen a tight black turtleneck dress that went down to your knees, but lacked sleeves. Because of this, the black gradient on your arms made it look like you were wearing opera gloves. Paired with strappy black pumps, you felt pretty fancy. Angel had dressed in a similar style, but instead of a turtleneck, the neckline was sweetheart, and on the stomach was a cutout in the shape of a heart. He wore his standard black boots up to the top of his thighs, and his hair was more tousled than usual. You hair had been pinned back into a loose updo, and the both of you had little gemstones sprinkled in your hair. Husk promised to follow behind the two of you, Angel oblivious to your little shadow, chattering about whoever it was that his date brought for you.

As you entered the club, you kept looking back, nervous until you saw Husk enter and make his way to the bar. You joined Angel in a booth, him texting presumably your dates and ordering the both of you cocktails. Whatever a Blue Hurricane was, it was delicious. But remembering the last time you got drunk you were certainly going to be taking it easy.

As the missing pair arrived, it was obvious that you would not be having a good time. The friend of Angel’s date was a weasel demon, which was the first warning. One bit you when you were a kid and the scar was still present to prove it. The second was when you first met, he was so vulgar that Husk almost got involved, thankfully catching you shaking your head furiously. You let the man talk, on and on, about what he did, liked, positions…Yea, this was a shit date.

He finally picked up that you were uninterested entirely, or he thought hitting on the waitress in front of you was smooth, you texted Angel that you were going to walk home (no worries, it wouldn’t be alone) and thanked him for inviting you out. He read it at the table and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek goodbye and you left the table. Weasel demon nowhere in sight. You noticed Husk had left the bar, and you caught him as he was walking out the door, following your lead at the table. When you caught up to him, his sly smile made you laugh. “Did it look as bad as it went?”

”Dunno, how bad did it go?” The face you gave him made him laugh. “Bad. Really bad.” He smiled, “Well then yes. It looked bad. A shame really, you don’t get out much.” The two of you engaged in some polite conversation as you walked back to the hotel, Husk talking about how he used to wine and dine women when he was alive, how his luck wasn’t limited to just the table and blackjack. He was certain he had more than a few illegitimate children running around, he played fast and loose in all games, with all genders. By the time you both arrived back home, Husk was reliving how he would go to a hangout and dance all night with any girl he wanted. When you admitted no one had ever taken you dancing, he held out his hand and asked you to join him.

”But there’s no music! I may not have been dancing but I know you need music.” You exclaimed, finding the suggestion silly without the complete experience. Husk started to hum a song unfamiliar to you, and you chuckled, grabbing his hand and falling into an awkward waltz. Or at least you thought it was a waltz. It was some form of a box step, but it seemed like Husk wasn’t so much a dancer as he was a charmer. Though it appeared both of you had no structure, you were having a good time, until Husk stopped suddenly and took a step back. Your arms still lifted up, as if they were waiting for him to step back into place, and you faced the direction Husk had started to glare at.

Alastor.

He was at the very bottom of the stairs, head tilted. “What~ever are the two of you doing?” He began to come towards you as your hands lowered. Finding yourself less afraid of him these days, you spoke up. “I’ve never been dancing and I just had the absolute worst time on a date with Angel. Husk was cheering me up, and for that-“ You faced him, “I thank you. Best part of the night, although I wish the music was a bit clearer.” He smiled slyly and tipped his hat to you as he bowed, “Pleasure was all mine. Alastor, give the kid a break, she deserves a nice night out. Not tonight, but eventually.” Alastor had raised a brow and inspected your outfit, nodding in approval to the other man’s words.

”I see. That will be all Husker, you may leave.” Alastor waved him off, telling him to leave rather than suggesting it. Husk made eye contact with you and you shrugged. Alastor was picking under his nails with the same hands claws, seeming bored. Husk rolled his eyes and gave you a salute as he walked down the hall to one of the lower rooms for residents.

“Well my dear, I am afraid that you simply keep making mistakes, what a shame.” You groaned at his tone, closing your eyes to maintain composure.

“What do you mean, Alastor? Agreeing to be Angel’s ‘double?’” You finger quoted at the last word, making an obnoxious face to lay it on thick. “I know. Never again, I don’t know why I listened to him in the first place.”

”Well yes, that too I suppose. But I meant having Husker show you how to dance! Why I’ll have you know I was quite the dancer back in my day,” He pointed his microphone at the Radio in the Foyer and it started to play an upbeat, jazzy melody. He conjured his microphone away and grabbed your hand, leading you into a fast paced dance. You didn’t know what on earth was happening, but Alastor was an excellent lead. You found yourself laughing as he spun you about, trying to keep up with him - he wasn’t kidding, he was fantastic at this! He held on to both of your hands, which was great because you were so focused on his feet and trying to copy them, by the time the 3rd song started you were a bit more confident in your footwork but you were already out of breath. Holy crow dancing must have been a requirement in the 20s and 30s because Alastor barely looked as if he shed a drop of sweat yet. When you finally met his eyes, his smile wide as always, he let go of one of your hands to put you into a spin and bring you back.

The song ended, and he brought the two of you to a closer, slower dance, the song slowing. You found it hard to meet his face, but he thankfully broke the silence first. “How was that?! Quite the dancer, aren’t I?” He smiled at what looked like it could have been…real? Realer than most of his smiles. “Yes! I am impressed! Quite the dancer indeed. What was that dance? What did I do very terribly there for the last 15 minutes?”

He laughed at your joke, “That was the Fox-Trot dear, and something called the Black Bottom, though I mix it up a bit to keep it interesting.” He let you go entirely and the music faded into the background. You took a moment to catch your breath and race through the events that just happened. Date = bad. Husk = adorable. Alastor…Considerate? This was the most physical contact the two of you had with one another, and it certainly made you think. Just earlier today you assumed that your connection with this demon was only because of the bond, but here the two of you were, simply dancing like idiots in a Hell Hotel foyer, Alastor now rambling off about the songs he played and the meanings. You politely followed along without really listening, hyper focused on what you were feeling.

He just showed you he could be gentle, and fun. Patient when you stepped on his feet, and considerate as he gave you the instructions on what step to take next. Now he was looking at you and talking to you - honestly. Why was he constantly putting you in a state of confusion? 20 minutes with Alastor was proving to be leagues better than the hour plus date you went on tonight. Obviously your revelation gave you a certain look, because Alastor had interrupted your thoughts with a question. “And what, may I ask, are you in such deep thought about?” Raised brow, microphone back in his hand as he used it to lean on with both hands.

You quirked a lip, trying to figure out the right words to use. “I’m thinking about how 20 minutes with you had been a great end to my date since the first 2 hours were garbage. I am also thinking about how this is one of the first times we’ve spent time together that didn’t end up getting…a little heated.” He made a small noise of understanding before the two of you fell into a silence.

Ah yes, you were a mood killer. Grand. You kicked at the absolute nothing on the rug and announced you were heading to bed. You thanked him for the dancing, did a curtsy in response to his polite bow, and headed up the stairs.

Shoes and dress off, shower done and makeup removed, you were resting on the bed in your pyjamas, a button up short sleeved silk set with shorts. They were in a deep burgundy colour that flattered your colouring. The entire shower was spent thinking about your time with Alastor downstairs and how he obviously had no freaking clue what was going on, just like you had no idea what was happening between the two of you. It was clear there was more than just a physical connection, judging by how you were over analysing everything you had ever said to the man, hoping you never really sounded like an idiot after that first couple of days. There was a small knock on your door and when you opened it, Alastor was there, though he was a couple steps away this time.

”Evening my dear, I hope you have had time to freshen up.” He said, dipping his head a bit. “May I…come in?” You stared at him, unsure of what you were to do.

“Do you…do you think that would be a good idea?” You asked, not entirely against it but also confused by the fact he would even want to come in. “Well,” he started, picking off some non-existent lint from his microphone in an attempt to look nonplussed, “that depends on what sort of night you want to have, my dear.” Oooh trouble. That voice meant trouble. The kind of trouble that went straight to your crotch and lit your body on fire. Alastor’s facial response to your physical change was a toothy grin and a ‘mmhmm’ reverberating from his mouth. Embarrassed, but curious, you walked backwards back to the bed, sitting on the edge as Alastor came in smoothly and shut the door. He took a moment to look around the room you had attempted to make your own, inspecting every little addition, every detail. Finally he cleared his throat and spoke.

”I find you infuriating.”

“I…beg your pardon?” From the way your imagination was spinning all sorts of potential scenarios, this was not one of them. “Could you…elaborate?”

“I find you infuriating.” Okay, double infuriating. You waited. “Since you have arrived, I am unable to rid my thoughts of you. Your very presence has been invading my routines, my self expectations and responsibilities. I find myself skirting around more urgent matters just to catch a glance at you from a distance. You are making my mind and body betray the very way that I am! It is confusing, irritating and I am unsure if I would be willing to change that now that it has happened.”

You processed the words. Did he just imply he was glad all these things were happening? “Angel said that you went on a killing spree in the doomsday district, did you?” A slight tangent, but your curiosity was itching to find out. “Yes.” Was his curt reply. “Was that because…of me? Us? This-“ you guestured between the two of you, “-thing?” He came to stand between you, eyes lowered but not angry. He was quite unreadable at this moment. “Yes…and no.”

He bent over and grabbed one side of your collar to stroke the fabric between his thumb and 2 forefingers. “I went there because Hell needs a reminder that I am around, and I haven’t changed. But I also went-“ He popped the top button of your shirt open, “-because after our…moment, I felt a certain way, and I was concerned about how far I would deter from my pattern of behaviour if I stayed only across the hall from the source of all of these changes.” Button number two popped open and he lifted your chin to guide your eyes to his. “May I?” He asked, waiting for permission. You could only nod, your cheeks flaring up and you could feel this blush start to spread down your chest and shoulders. What the fuck was happening?

He unbuttoned the next 3 buttons that fastened your shirt together before putting his hand on your sternum and gently pushing you back so you were laying on the bed, looking up at him while your knees dangled off the edge of the bed. Your shirt covered a majority of your skin, but he took his claw and ran it up from your exposed navel to stop at your collar bone. The movement sent chills down your spine, but you laid still, hands beside your hips and formed into fists. He then ran his claw back down, and the resulting effect was a very small moan from your lips.

He brought his hand back up, his knuckle coming to rub the rib underneath your left breast, the movement causing the shirt to fall to the slide, exposing you. Your nipple started to peak slightly, but only for a second before Alastor bent down and took it straight into his mouth. Your shoulders jerked in response, and you could hear a tandem moan to your own. He was carefully toying with your left nipple with his teeth, while his left hand performed similar ministrations to your right nipple. Almost immediately you were over stimulated, pussy throbbing and clit pulsing. Alastor jerked his own hips as you smacked your head back against the mattress and fisted the blankets beside you.

He swapped his mouth to the other side, repeating the same actions, humming while he held them in mouth, causing you to groan. His knee came to rest on the bed, forcing your own knees apart. He was still fully clothed, and he brought his knee up until it rested against the heat of your cunt. He put pressure on it, and you groaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming. He was barely even touching you with his fingers and he had you soaking. Very quickly you felt the familiar build up at the bottom of your stomach, it was happening so fast it was nearly painful. The combination of his knee moving against your sensitive clit, the pinching and biting of your nipples mixed with the reflective arousal that you could feel from the bond with Alastor - who was just as tense with pleasure, had you slipping into despair chasing that release.

You raised your hands and brought them to his head, running your hands up behind his neck to run your fingers through his hair, only for him to grab both of your wrists and pin them beside your head on the bed. He was just slowly teasing one nipple at a time, puckering one up and blowing air on it, shifting his knee to change the pressure to your crotch, smiling wider as your moans escaped your lips. You tried to look down at him while he was overstimulating your body but it was too much for your brain to handle. How on earth had things come to this? You said his name in a shakily manner, stuttering over the first syllable and he hmmd a knowing response, picking up the pace of his ministrations, focusing his mouth on what the two of you discovered was the more sensitive one, knee pushing hard into you. Your hips were moving in a rhythmic motion to increase the friction, and your head was nodding back and forth as you allowed the buildup of pleasure to create a knot in the bottom of your stomach. Suddenly the knot tightened, and then snapped as your orgasm flooded through your body. Your moan of release was animalistic, unlike any sound that had come from you before, and your chest raised, having your head balance on your crown as your body arched to aid in release. A second after you started your release you felt Alastors body jerk in response, moving his hips to help with his own orgasm.

The two of you rode it out together, before he settled on his elbows on either side of you, allowing his body to rest on top of yours. His knees lowered to the floor at the foot of the bed, your own knees closed around his hips as the two of you caught your breath. It was suddenly stifling in your room, the smell of sex strongly pungent in the air. You stared at the ceiling, processing what was easily the strongest orgasm of your life as your mind raced.

Looking down at Alastor he was breathing deeply through his mouth, but his eyes were closed and furrowed. You tested his boundaries by letting your hands wander to his arms and let them rest on him. He didn’t move, and you didn’t push further by going farther, but the two of you laid there until your heartbeats settled. It was clear neither of you knew how to proceed, you were still confused about the turn of events and Alastor was confused how he allowed his basic instincts take over his better judgement.

He initially came to your door to…well for what, he didn’t even know. It certainly wasn’t thought out to pounce on you like a wild animal and bring you to a very intense orgasm that wracked through his own body and presumably ruined a perfectly good pair of trousers. This touch and go, push and pull bond between the two of you was making things difficult to process what he was actually thinking. Lately he was finding it harder and harder to avoid wanting to seek out these responses for you. His own lack of experience and overwhelming emotions that your presence had sparked in him has flipped his world, and he was unsure of how he would, or even if he could revert back into the cool, unaffected overlord demeanour that he had spent nearly a century perfecting. Where did he find those ritual runes again? Someone would have to pay for it, yes decades after the fact.

As you patiently waited, you fought a silent yawn, and found yourself slowly slipping into a comfortable state of pre-sleep. Alastor’s weight on top of you and your recent orgasm was a perfect concoction for restful sleep, and as your breathing slowed down and your lids became heavy, you slipped into slumber hoping that you weren’t coming across as rude (hey, he wasn’t saying anything either) but a part of you that was larger than you thought wished he would be there when you woke up.

Alastor however was grateful you were losing your battle within yourself and falling asleep, because it would make the next few steps much easier and far less awkward for him. He felt perhaps like a hormonal youth would, his lesser brain controlling the body devoid of any intellectual thought. As your breathing steadied into a rhythmic pattern he knew it was safe to move. He braced his head up off your chest and put his chin on his folded hands, propped up by his elbows that still rested on either side of you. He looked down at your peaceful face, content and already with a look of someone in deep sleep. Your face still had a residual flush on it, and your lashes twitched as his own breath hit your face after a long release of air he had been holding in.

Honestly if he was to be linked with someone in such a way, he considered himself lucky it was with someone like you. You were polite, very intelligent about the things you loved, held great conversation and, most importantly, you generally listened to what he had to say. And not that he put much merit into it being in hell, but you were also very pleasant to look at. Beauty fades on earth, but Hell was ageless. Though your demon form had been clearly influenced by his own, he was unsure of what other form you might take had this not happened. Still prey, he noted strongly, perhaps a rabbit or a dog - you were entirely too energetic and loyal. A thought he would focus on another day however, right now his task at hand was to escape without disturbing anyone or anything and clean himself up.

As he rose your body shifted immediately seeking out warmth. He used his tendrils to assist in moving you under the covers, fixing your shirt before using his own hands to tuck you in. He did not have a good answer to why he chose to do that himself, but as he left, the warm light dimmed as his shadows took him into his own room to address his mental anguish alone. He needed to sort out this thing that was starting to build up inside of him, and quickly. This extermination was suddenly far more complicated then the ones that preceded it.

Time was running out, and everyone knew it.

______

I know Alastor is an only child in canon, but he is so scripted as a man with sisters and therefore I live in de-lulu and write it as such.

Sorry for the delay, I’m trying my very best to make sexual moments not awkward and believable. And the idea that real people read it gives me anxiety.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @otherthoughtsofbu @phamtasic @midorichoco @hazbin-h0etel @white-00-7 @little-slyvixen @zzzykiek @iheartalastor

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What if that night in Godric's hollow Lily chose to let Voldemort kill Harry and stepped aside when Voldemort asked her to?

Self-preservation kicked in! No one knows how they will react facing death. She should not be blamed for protecting herself.

Would she be honest and tell people what really happened or make up some believable story? What would happen to her after that night? Does she leave England? How would the Order/Sirius/Dumbledore react to the events? Would Severus go after Lily and tell her he is her hero? Would this be a better AU for Lily and the wizard world?

Woof.

Well.

It's not good.

Would She Be Honest and Tell People What Happened?

We don't really know much about Lily's character is the thing. I make a lot of things up for my own benefit, but that's my taking and running with the very little we see in canon.

We really don't know how she'd react.

The way I characterize her? Feeling guilty over her husband's death (who died for her and Harry) and the fact that she survived her son (who she perhaps could have protected) she'll confess to what happened. She wants people to blame and hate her so she can punish herself for this.

And judge and punish her they do as this is something the Order and the greater public just can't understand. I'm sure rumors of how and why Lily was spared also fly and soon Lily goes from the truth of simply stepping aside (and being spared because of Snape) to having slept with Voldemort to save her life to being his spy the entire time.

What Would Happen to Her After that Night?

The gossip against her is massive and I imagine the Order never quite trusts her again. They may not kick her out, though I'm sure some (certainly Sirius who is mad with grief over James's death) vote for it. Lily may leave of her own free will out of guilt and so as not to give the Order a black eye.

The Prophet may or may not run smear campaigns against her both to distract from the realities of the Ministry not managing anything against You-Know-Who and because this is such a shocking awful story.

Lily becomes persona non grata but is presumably left alone by the Death Eaters as Voldemort chose to spare her life and the order has been passed down through the ranks (and as Voldemort is alive he keeps Bella and the Lestranges and Barty in check in a way he didn't at this point in canon).

Lily lives a miserable life in which her husband and son are both dead, she's of no help to the cause, and she's trying to get on with it.

How Would the Order/Sirius/Dumbledore React?

See above but I imagine ostracization.

Sirius would never forgive Lily for James having died and Lily just selfishly allowing Harry to be killed. I imagine he'd blame her in his mind and believe that she had betrayed James personally by doing this. Not to mention what kind of a person/Gryffindor steps aside to let her baby be murdered?

The Order at large would likely have mixed opinions but the Weasleys for example would vocally condemn Lily and despise her for this.

Dumbledore would, I imagine, think much lesser of Lily and start saying things he says about Merope about how Lily just didn't love her son enough/wasn't a very strong woman. He wouldn't condemn her quite as much as Sirius or Molly but there'd be an undertone of "this happened because you are weak".

Would Severus Go After Lily and Tell Her He's Her Hero?

Severus is home free, you bet your ass he does.

Lily's probably out of the Order, James Potter his greatest enemy is dead, Sirius is out of the picture because of James's death, even the hellspawn Harry Potter is dead and out of the way.

They can now go back to exactly what they were and the Dark Lord did hold to his promise after all (and oh dear god Severus betrayed him behind his back, hope he doesn't find out about this).

I imagine Severus would try to reconnect and either:

lie about being a Death Eater entirely (probably won't work)

say he's realized the error of his ways, admit to giving the information to Dumbledore to save Lily's life, but he can't leave the Death Eaters because of the mark/he'll certainly be killed

Probably he goes with option 2 as he can't exactly pretend he never held his views or wasn't a Death Eater at all and he firmly believes that he took this huge risk, saved her life, and he's completely redeemed now.

Would This Be a Better AU for the Wizarding World and Lily?

Well.

Lily's son and husband died horribly, she's haunted by survivor's guilt forever, all her friends hate her and she's completely isolated, Snape is back on her doorstep believing she should be grateful to him for his actions and he deserves instant forgiveness, and the Dark Lord is still alive and well, has the future minister's son in his pocket, has infiltrated the government completely, and can take over any time he pleases with one out of two prophecy children dead (and Neville... probably doesn't last long after this).

So.

No.

It's better for 0 people.

It's actually much worse for everyone except Tom.

Tom is enjoying not being a wraith in Quirrel's head, thank you very much.

[sarahkrolokfan]

I hate fanon-ization of Lily, James, Regulus and Barty (Evan, Dorcas, Marlene etc. are literally only mentioned in the books, there is nothing to mis-characterize)

Lily is side-lined for a non-existent, non-sensical ship (yeah, I hate jegulus), her Muggle origin is overlooked even though it played a MAJOR role in her life (heck the entire Marauders era takes place during the war against a wizard-supremacist, Muggle-hater and his racist followers). Her relationship with Snape and how his words and newly found ideologies affected is completely overlooked when he was her only magical friend during her entire childhood. Her relationship to her son? (yk, that one thing that set the entire series in motion...) - pfft, don't be silly, she is just a surrogate to James and Regulus.

James is portrayed as a ray of sunshine, good boy whose biggest sin was being a bit sarcastic. No, he WAS an arrogant asshole who mercilessly bullied another student simply for his own enjoyment. Yet he was also incredibly loyal man who didn't hesitate to share his home with his friend after he ran away from home and who grew out of his arrogant phase and changed himself for better because of a woman he loved (loved so much he died protecting her and their son later).

Regulus is portrayed as an edgy yet kind-hearted little aristocrat boy whose parents forced him into being a Death Eater - no, he wasn't pressured into becoming anything, Regulus for the longest part of his life WAS a Voldemort supporter. He collected newspaper articles about Voldemort, he talked to Kreacher about how great Voldemort is and how great his ideas were - yes, he realized later he was wrong but it doesn't suddenly mean he was pressured into anything.

Barty is portrayed as a silly little babygirl who has an IQ of goldfish. No, he was one of the smartest characters with multiple talents but was also a mentaly-unstable young man (Azkaban/Dementors have horrific influence on everyone but while other Death Eaters managed to last 10+ years there he was already on his death-bed in a year and started to scream for him mother the same day he was brought in) who went completely insane and evil by the end and craved for father figure so deeply he was ready to become a murderer/torturer to get one. His manipulativeness and sadism? Non-existent in fanon...

In the end... I truly dislike the overall state of "Marauders era" fandom - like, they are a generation impacted by war and ever-changing politics who essentially needed to choose a side while they were still children, some betraying their families and loved ones - and then you try seeing stuff in Marauders fandom and they are turned into edgy teens who all wear crop-tops and black nail polish, listen to Taylor, go to Starbucks and talk in a Tik-Tok slang....

[anonymous-dentist]

Anyway, this is all to say that q!Roier is such a fascinating character, but he’s very watered down in the fandom because he himself has watered himself down in character. He’s very happy to just ignore his tragic past and his own literal murderous impulses in favor of building his dead son a city and hanging out with his sexy cool hot smart husband. He’s a very good actor (both cubito and creator)- q!Spreen and q!Quackity never even realized he was mad at them. Nobody left on the island except for q!Jaiden even remotely knows what went down because Roier just… doesn’t acknowledge it.

And he still isn’t acknowledging it, probably partially because cc!Roier is very close with cc!Spreen and he knows that Spreen doesn’t really wanna be connected with lore at all, but in rp that could literally just be q!Roier just internalizing it and pretending it didn’t happen and that it didn’t leave him a mess that still hasn’t been cleaned up. Because Roier is still traumatized, he just won’t do anything about it because he’s convinced himself that he’s just kinda just over it. He’s moved on! He’s happy again! He has a new family (who won’t betray him) and a new romantic interest (who won’t literally stab him in the back) and he’s happy.

Happy Roier is the way he’s constantly presenting himself, so it makes sense that that’s the way the fandom sees him. His old lore hasn’t been brought up in months… on the surface. But if you read into his character, you can still see his trauma even now that he’s wearing his Happy Outfit again.

His taqueria is a perfect example of that: he didn’t even touch a taco ingredient after he was betrayed over taco ingredients. But once he started building Bobby’s City after he started getting close with people again, he started the taqueria he had always dreamed of building. And he finished it for his fiancé so they could have their first date there, just like how he had planned to take all his friends (and his crush q!Spreen) to his taqueria back in March/April before they crushed his dreams and sent him into a depression spiral. Even now, he just doesn’t really ever touch tacos. He lets Leo take care of all of that, and he doesn’t really make them at home. He’s probably remembering q!Missa’s words: “You care more about tacos than your own friends.”

Oh, and there’s how q!Cellbit told Roier that he used to kill people and how Roier’s only concern with that was whether or not Cellbit would kill him. Because Roier is not a very sympathetic person, he only became a therapist for the gossip, and he blows people up with mines for fun and he asks his husband to kill for him when he’s even slightly annoyed. But he remembers how the person he cared about most took a sword and stabbed it through his back and killed his dog in front of him (notice how Roier hasn’t had his own pet since then, only the people he’s lived with have them.) And he’s terrified of that happening again.

And then there’s his reaction to q!Foolish seemingly getting stuck in the Nether. Because while everybody was joking about having a funeral, Roier was silent. (And he’s only silent when he’s doing rp.) He doesn’t have a lot of family, and it’s implied that he just didn’t have any besides his freaky abuelo before the island, so losing someone else he cares about kinda just… hurt. He got Cellbit to stop with the funeral stuff and he jumped in front of a literal (bubble) gun to protect Foolish when he came back because he’s tired of his family getting hurt!

Everyone Roier loves either leaves him or gets hurt, and so he’s obviously limited himself. He only ever really interacts with Cellbit, who he trusts not to willingly leave him, Richarlyson, who he will make sure will never get hurt because all the eggs get hurt when he watches them and they die and-, and Jaiden, who he knows would never hurt him or leave him.

But despite all of this, he’s still just a Little Guy. He presents himself as such constantly. It’s a coping mechanism. It’s him pretending nothing’s wrong and everything’s fine and he’s just a Little Guy!!! And that’s why the fandom probably gets him wrong so much, because the character gets himself wrong, and that’s absolutely fascinating from a meta perspective

[inbabylontheywept]

The Price

Mithrain’s hands were thick boned and knotted with scars. Unfit tools for anything delicate. Yet they were all he had, so he traded patience for true dexterity. Where humans had skill and elves had grace, dwarves had time.

His fingers carefully tugged the knotted fabrics apart. Blanket by blanket, twist by twist, the bundle came undone until, at last, an infant lay on the war table.

It was human. Unmistakably so – round ears peeked through a halo of blonde hair. It reached forward with tiny hands and wrapped all ten of its fingers around the dwarves' thumb. Both its index fingers still lingered a full inch from meeting. Mithrain looked down at it with true warmth. Then he looked back up at the elves and gave a command.

“Kill it.”

No one at the table moved. The circle of elves looked from the child, to him, then back. To their credit, the tension was more borne of  confusion than moral wavering. They knew they would not do it. They did not know why they were being asked.

Solathan the Elder spoke first.

“No,” he replied.

Mithrain nodded. The refusal was not merely hoped for, it had been expected.

“This is why you will not win.”

The table sat in contemplative silence. Solathan, bravest amongst the elves, most forward, most dwarf, spoke again.

“Because we will not murder infants?”

“Because this infant is the son of Agamedes. He is the last king of the Hinterlands. Humans grow old quickly – in twenty five years he will be a man, and he will start a war just like the one you are fighting today. A war suspiciously similar to the one you fought twenty-five years ago.”

The words were calm, but he watched the generals hands closely. Even a twitch towards a belt knife would be enough to betray temptation. Yet, each hand remained perfectly still.

There was a short pulse of shame in him. Envy. When he’d had this conversation with his own war council all those centuries ago, there had been several who’d considered it. Who had considered the price of such self-degredation.

“You will not win. You could. But you see the cost now, and you know it is too high. You want to honor your treaties, your duties, your integrity, but you know the word for that which lacks soul but keeps contracts. You’ve fought them with me, in the deepest, darkest depths of the stone.” 

Solathan had gone white. He knew. He’d been so focused on winning this war that he’d failed to look ahead to the next. And the next. And the next. The cycle stood out to him, infinite and spiraling. He froze at the thought of walking down into that abyss.

“I could raise it. Him. I could try and break the cycle. I-“

“He will learn from another human. Another infant that grows to manhood. He will learn, and he will burn your house and throne. Do you think I am so wise, as to see the future without having lived the past? Whatever cleverness you will suggest, I have tried. I fought ten generations of warriors on the same field before I realized I had three options. To burn my soul, to trap myself in endless war, or to lose. So I lost.”

His voice cracked on the last three words. The infant had begun to fuss over the cold, and he went to work swaddling it again. He’d made his point - now it was time to take the princling home. But as his hands made their slow work, he gave his final warning. 

“You did not know when you started this. And you would not have listened if I had told you. But you know now. And if I meet you in those darkest depths, I will know what sent you there. The only pity you will find from me after that is a second death."

He finished his work in silence, leaving as he came. The quiet lasted long after. 

[puppiekit]

To celebrate my Lion au post, here are some notes / hcs:

Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Hollyleaf all have arcs that tackle different themes throughout the arc.

Jayfeathers arc tackles the prophecy-oriented side of things. His character changes the least. I do plan to tweak the way time travel works though (it will be more directly connected to their present - day tribe). Will keep up to date in that regard....

Hollyleafs character is, obviously, altered to an extent. She tackles the code-oriented side of things. She does not murder Ashfur, however..:

Hollyleaf is still driven mad by the truth of her heritage. She is angry at Leafpool first and foremost, viewing her as the root of their problem, as Leafpool was the one to break the code by having kits in the first place. She still confesses the truth at the gathering. She does not run into the tunnels, instead, somewhere more far off.....

After Ashfur is murdered, Lionblaze, wracked with guilt, confesses the crime to his siblings. Hollyleaf, blinded by her code-obsessed rage, later exposes the truth of what happened. Brambleclaw covers for him, similar to how Bramble covered Holly in the books.

Lionblazes character is altered the most (no surprise there). Lionblaze tackles the family-oriented side of things. He is very close to his parents, and you can see most of their drama / conflict through his perspective.

Lionblaze is a character who is simultaneously well-meaning, impulsive, and a bit self-focused. Similar to his grandfather he cares greatly for doing the right thing, even if it means breaking the code (much to Holly's disdain). However, what differs the two is Lionblazes hyper-awareness over his own reputation. Firestar is a cat who will do the right thing, no matter the slack he gets for it, no matter the enemies he makes. But Lionblaze is a cat who needs to be liked.

Due to the nature of his power, Lionblaze becomes increasingly insecure and hyper-aware of the cats around him (he views it as an inherent flaw ; a reason for cats NOT to like him). After his run-in with the Dark forest, he grows paranoid of accidentally harming / killing innocent cats. Frequent nightmares. Battle training sometimes induces panic. Bad habit of bringing home half-shredded prey. He wants to be a good cat, he wants to protect his clan and his family -- but his power only leaves him feeling like a monster. A ticking time bomb. All he's good for is doing the most damage possible, and that's scary to him.

Lions dynamic with Ashfur is expanded upon A LOT MORE. Now, in my au their dynamic is a bit of a mixed bag. They have their bad moments, days where Ashfurs resentment seeps through, but its not all bad. If you know the kind, you know -- The type of adult who will yell at you for a simple mistake, beat you down, but then 10 minutes later praise you and take you out for dinner as a treat. Its complex, it's hard to accept it for the toxicity it truly is, because "They're good sometimes, too". Lionblaze acknowledges that Ashfur was mean, but the attachment is still there. They had their good, genuine moments -- so it's hard to accept the fact that his mentor is a horrible person. Could it be? Could the mentor who told him funny stories about his parents, truly hate them that much? He can remember a time Ashfur peered down at him, smiled and said, "You know, Lionpaw, you're kind of like a son to me." In the moment he felt warm, it felt good. Did Ashfur really care for him that much? Now that same memory sends chills rippling through his fur.

Speaking of, Lionblaze is definitely the most attached of the three. He's incredibly close with Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw. When the truth is revealed, he is easily left the most (emotionally) devastated -- but he is also the first to forgive. He feels hurt, angry, betrayed, but he cannot deny the love he feels for his family, and he cannot deny the love they gave to him. It breaks his heart keeping his distance, seeing the hurt in his mothers eyes while he avoids their presence. He can't keep it up for long. Jayfeather, on the other hand, cant bring himself to forgive as quickly. He is a cat who has difficulty accepting vulnerability - he trusted his family, and that trust was betrayed. (Lion definitely has a bad habit of getting involved in his parents arguments later on lol hes emotionally invested)

The big change: Lionblaze kills Ashfur. You would think he does it out of anger, out of hatred, but no... He does it to keep his family safe. He can't let the secret get out. He can't allow Ashfur the opportunity to harm his littermates, his mother, again. Killing him was the only way, and yet, it leaves him with too much grief and guilt to bare. His entire life he shuddered at the idea of another cat dying at his claws. He was a monster, too strong for his own good, and killing would be nothing more than proof of that. It isn't long before it becomes too much to bare, and he confesses to his littermates. The grief, most of all, is what catches him by surprise. Ashfur was awful, he tried to kill Lionblaze and his littermates! It was wrong to feel this grief, wasn't it? But it isnt long before Lion realizes he wasnt grieving over Ashfur - he was grieving over who he thought Ashfur was; not only his mentor, but a tom who cared for him, despite the short attitude. Not only is his heritage, his upbringing a lie - but so is the very nature of his entire apprenticeship. It is a lot for him to handle.

[azsazz]

Fire & Water (Part 3)

Eris x Reader

Summary: Fulfilling anon reqs: “Part 3 of fire and water?” and “ooo would it be alright if you created a deleted scene of ‘fire and water’ where eris and archeron reader hook up? love ya <3-🪷”

Warnings: Smut, mentions of abuse and murder.

Word Count: 2,282

Notes: Chlo indulged me last night so I’m returning the favor...been a while since the last part of this one...I hope you all enjoy 🥰

[Part 1] [Part 2]

_________________________________________

“I want to take you to the Summer Court someday,” Eris admits, soft breath stirring the unruly hairs at the crown of your forehead. He’s trailing his long fingers up the smooth skin of your arm, the pads of his touch rough with his swordsmanship. “But I’m afraid you may never want to leave.”

You peek your eyes open at his confession. You’re not asleep nor on the verge of it, just basking in being in your mates arms again after the awful intervention your sisters and their counterparts had set up. Curled up in Eris’ arms in a bed at an inn he’d taken you to right after picking you up at the border of Autumn where Lucien had dropped you off.

You were more thankful for the youngest son of Autumn than you’re sure he knows, for betraying Feyre and the Court that had offered him solace in his time of need. He would surely be the one to take the brunt of the investigation once your sister and the High Lord have noticed you’re no longer in their Court, for helping you escape to Autumn as he wished to do himself, hopefully with his own mate, if only she would have him.

It had been difficult for Eris to see his youngest brother, of that you knew. Hurt him to lock eyes with the soft caramel gaze of Lucien, an unspoken agreement between them that Eris was doing his best to try and rid his father of the throne. He missed Lucien, more than he’d missed anyone, even more than the brothers he had lost by Tamlin’s hand. You knew it had been hard for him to see his youngest brother turning away from the court he had every right to live in to return to that of darkness and night.

Eris had been quiet on the trek to the cozy hostel, his hand tucked into yours, thumb grazing over your knuckles in a way that soothed you both. Your heart had been pounding, from the 10,000 stairs you had to descend to arrive at the rendezvous Lucien had told you to meet him at, the feeling like Rhysand or your sister or one of their cronies were right behind you, a constant fear clawing through your mind.

He hadn’t wanted to take you back to his home, for fear of his father you already knew. You didn’t care though, didn’t care if Eris took you back to that cave or the inn or somewhere even less appealing, as long as you are with him you couldn’t care less about where you are.

The both of you had fallen into the swelling urges of the mating bond as soon as the door clicked shut behind you, reverberating in your chest, a signal that you and your mate were alone, away from prying eyes and ears, well…as much as you could be at the inn. But you didn’t care about the others occupying the rooms next door or the woman seated at the counter below yours, all you saw was Eris, all you felt was your mate, the simmering and sweltering feelings clawing to the surface, to care for him, to claim him.

The hand you have settled against his chest twitches, thumb automatically moving in response to the waiver of his tone, a gentle motion back and forth that’s meant to soothe the stutter of his heart beneath your head, and calm the shake of his vulnerable words.

You peer up at him from your spot at his shoulder but he’s not looking at you, watching instead as he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers.

“Why’s that?” you scrunch up your nose, drawing his attention. The look on your face must settle him some because he’s dropping the tuft of hair in favor of poking at your screwed up features, tapping the tip of your nose and following it with his mouth.

“The oceans mostly,” Eris says when he pulls back and you settle into him, listening to the rumble of his voice as he speaks, its own wave in your ear. “I hear the drinks are fruity and sweet. Here they taste like ash and cinnamon.” Now he’s the one wrinkling his nose in distaste as he complains.

You laugh, stealing a kiss from his pouty mouth. He follows you like a moth to a flame when you pull away, still eager for more of you.

He’s addicted to you already. Had turned his nose up at the stories of males finding their mate’s, how he’d be consumed by them like a wildfire, reducing him to ash in their wake, melted and malleable for her to do with as she pleased.

But Mother does he believe it now.

You taste like a lifeline, like the oxygen his fire so desperately needs. But you are water, so unlike him, Eris would let you douse his flames even if it only meant you’d give him a single touch, a look in his direction.

He will give you whatever you want.

“You don’t like cinnamon?” The amused lilt to your voice has his stomach burning, and the look you’re sending him, a crooked smile makes his heart skip in his chest.

“I love cinnamon,” he sighs like it’s the biggest burden he’s had to bear. Not his abusive father, not being on the cusp of war with the Night Court, who will surely be planning to attack now that he’s stolen a possession so prized to them, a sister of the High Lady.

That’s what you are to them. A possession. Not a being of your own wits and mind. A little girl, the youngest, someone who can’t make decisions for herself or run her own life. No, they have to be the ones to do that for you.

You stare up at your mate pointedly.

“You don’t get it because you’re not from here. You didn’t grow up in Autumn where all there is is cinnamon drinks and pastries, pumpkin spiced tea, and ginger snaps. It’s a total cliché.”

Ah, you understand now.

“So you’re afraid I’ll leave you because you’re a cliché?”

His playful growl catches in his throat when you shift your leg from where it’s resting across his, your knee dragging up the ridges of his muscular thighs, brushing against the tip of his spent cock.

The subtle brush of your knee against his skin, the mere thought of burying his cock inside of you once more makes him flush, makes his cock wag.

“I’m not a cliché,” he purrs instead, his fingers grazing a long stroke down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shiver, arching into him just as he expected you to. He’s already shifting slightly, holding you closer to him. You can feel the heat from his cock against your leg.

Eris pounces, rolling on top of you in a movement as swift as a fox, pinning you beneath him. He clasps your hands in his, holding them to the soft fabric of the sheets while he appraises you with shiny amber eyes.

“Cinnamon is the cliche and I’m worried you’ll leave me because you’ll realize you like Summer better. The oceans are vast, and with your powers, it will be much easier to learn and hone in on your skills there. I can’t teach you how to control water, and I am fire. You might find it much more comfortable than dry, old Autumn.”

He’s being honest, nervous.

“I might like Summer,” you nod, watching how his brows twitch with unease. He allows one of your hands to slip away and you brush his thick auburn hair from his eyes, tucking it around his pointed ear before moving to caress his face. He leans into your touch. He yearns for it. The calming sea to his raging flames. “But I’ll never like it as much as I love you, Eris.”

He nearly crumples. His arms shake and his heart strains in his chest at your words. He bites at his trembling lip to stop himself from whimpering. He’s weak. He hasn’t known you for long and half of the time he’d spent fighting you when he should’ve been loving you. But now…he’d do anything you ask. He wants to drown in your love.

“Besides,” you sigh, a teasing smile pulling the corners of your lips upwards. Eris nips at your finger playfully as you trace the bow of his mouth, already preparing a response to your joke, “Who wants to be a prune anyway? I’d much rather stay here in your cozy bed with you.”

His heart soars and he can’t hold himself back, drawn to the tantalizing water like a parched male, kissing across your cheeks and down your throat. He’s warm and it makes you shiver, nipples hardening into peaks as the muscles of his chest brush across them, a wildfire of lust courses through your veins.

“And your powers?” he prowls, a question against your mouth.

“You’ll build me a pool, won’t you?”

“I’ll build you anything you godsdamned want.”

Your languid hum pitches into a lewd moan as Eris’ fingers breeze down your body, leaving embers in their wake. He brushes up against your entrance, sliding easily against the wet folds of your cunt.

“Speaking of wet,” he puffs and you groan, shoving at his shoulders. His breathy laugh is hot against your cunt and your shoving only pushes the heir away from your lips and down your body instead, everywhere he touches becomes putty in his hands.

“No, you’ve ruined it now,” you groan but he’s laughing, prizing your legs apart from where you’re trying to clench them back together after his awful joke.

“C’mon, my Love. Don’t hide from me, I’m thirsty.”

You flush, beat red. You didn’t think that it could get any worse but it has. You hadn’t known that Eris would have such a comedic streak.

You press up onto your forearms, eyeing him where he’s playfully running his hands up and down your legs, nudging you to open them. “Really, Eris? I’m done now, all dried up down there, you’ve ruined it for yourself.” 

Your body betrays you, listens to the calling of your mate instead, legs falling open easily for the male before you and you curse under your breath at his knowing grin.

He kisses your skin, biting at the fleshy meat of your thigh, causing you to jump. He presses a single finger knuckle-deep into your pulsing cunt. The action has you keening, his long digit pushed up inside of you without warning, unmoving but there.

He watches as you squirm, sucking his finger in with your heat. He’s achingly hard, gaze hot as your hips writhe down on him, walls clenching, trying to pull him in further. You are like putty in his hands, all from a single touch.

He hopes that his courtiers will be this keen to take his commands, once he is crowned High Lord.

“I’m about to ruin you,” your name is solace on his tongue, “Again.”

You don’t have the breath to respond because he’s driving the air from your lungs, replacing his finger with hot tongue, tasting your wetness. 

His tongue is nearly scorching as you seize around it. He’s burning your entire body in the best way. Eris jackknives his tongue into you with fervor and your mind goes dizzy. It might be the best thing you’ve ever felt, especially when he snakes a finger up to your clit, rolling it like he’d memorized the rhythm that had gotten you off the first time you’d slept together.

He hadn’t done this the first time.

Eris must catch the question trying to claw its way from your throat, the guttural noise sounding something akin to one, you think, because he’s answering with a sinful smile.

“Couldn’t have shown you all of my tricks on the first go around, Love. Have to keep you interested.”

“I think I’ll–” you gasp in pleasure as he licks up your cunt, melting at the way your body reacts to him, “I’ll always be interested in you, Eris. Because I have never loved anything such as I love you.”

Your name is a plea from his lips, hot against your core. It makes you tremble. It makes you ache.

He’s all consuming as his tongue works quicker now, licking long stripes up the length of your cunt and then some, tracing swoops and arches like the runes of a bargain.

You’d never been so thankful for your mate’s control over flames as you reach your peak, grabbing his head with both of your hands so you can grind against him.

Eris’ hands snake around your waist, pulling you tighter, burying himself into you, wild and uncaring, the feeling of you so close to the edge a hot brand across the bond–

You cum with a cry of his name on your lips, a prayer all the same.

But he’s not done with you yet.

He gives you no reprieve as he nips at your sensitive clit, drawing a strained yelp from you, your tightly shut eyes snapping open as he climbs up your body, kissing his way up, his chest brushing against your overheated skin.

Eris presses a long, hot kiss to your heart, the thrumming beat of it pulses against his mouth, making him tingle. He can’t help when his hips dip down, cock brushing through the wetness of your cunt, dragging groans from the both of you that mingle in the silent room.

There’s a faded strip of light seeping through the sliver of the curtains, framing the apples of his cheeks, the bridge of his straight nose. His freckles nearly glow in the growing light, debris of ember against his pale skin.

The rising sun only reminds you that your time here is nearly over. Soon it will be morning and with that comes reality. The reality that your sisters will find out you’ve escaped their clutches in favor of the fiery tempered heir to the Autumn Court’s throne, that you and Eris will somehow also have to survive the throes of Autumn, his father and fucked up brothers.

Neither of you has the perfect family.

But when his lips meet your own, all of your worries melt away.

You thread your fingers through his already tangled hair, reveling in the feeling of him against your mouth, against your body, smothering you like the wildfire he is.

“What do you want, my Love? Anything. Name it and you shall have it,” Eris mutters against your lips, the words of a man on his knees before his Queen.

And while he’s referring to what you want next from him; his cock stuffed deep inside of your cunt or your throat, you riding his face, anything, your mind shifts from sexual favors to something far more serious.

He’d felt the fracture of your pleasure when you’d been reminded of the upcoming days events, a stab of pain down the bond when your mind had wandered for a fleeting moment.

This is no light promise. You know this. Understand that he doesn’t mean he will give you a kiss if you ask, his cock if you beg. Eris is prepared to go to war for you, burn down Prythian if that is what you want, what will make you happy. He is utterly entrapped by you.

He’d stifle himself if it means keeping you alive.

Your heart swells, aching in the best way. You’d hated being a fae, but now, finding what Feyre and Nesta both had…you would never wish for something other than this. Other than him. 

Eris coos softly, brushing a tear from your cheek, shed from his heartfelt words. You feel too much, it’s nearly drowning to feel how much he loves you, pouring through the bond as you stare up at him, clutching him tightly, in your own little world inside of an inn with your mate.

But there’s something else, that scalding burn of your anger, beneath it all. It bubbles to the surface at his promise to you, your mind flickering from how in awe you are of your perfect mate to your sisters and their counterparts. How they’d made your business everyone’s business, letting them speak when it was not in their command to do so. How they kept from you, plotted for you, forced you into doing their dirty work.

They’d never get their alliance now. Not if you had anything to do with it.

Sensing the shift in your emotions, Eris hugs you tighter, kissing the crown of your head. You’re brewing with it now, gaze simmering with something wicked. It excites him, seeing that hard look in your eyes, makes him want to take you all over again, let you do anything you want to him. He’d fall to his knees for that look alone.

“I want power. I want to show them that I’m not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I want to be a force that they constantly look over their shoulder for.”

The curve of his mouth is unholy when he responds, amber eyes glittering with pride.

“The only way to get power, Love, is to take it.”

Taglist: @writingsbychlo @readsbychlo @j-brielmalfoy @hopelesslyuncreative @libernoctem @blueskyhappyclones @samsassinparvismagna @juulle987 @character---obsessed @caosfanblr

[pinkydevil16]

Aemond targaryen x targaryen reader: part 22

Daemon had taken matters into his own hands, hiring assassins to kill one of Aegon's brats and tasking them to get his daughter back. He had wanted to go but Rhaenyra had suffered greatly, the loss of her son and the capture of her daughter resulting in her losing her baby. The stress pushing her to an early labour which Daemon had worried neither would survive, he had been clear to the maesters to keep his Nyra alive no matter what. He believed a son for a son to be fair, he had not told his wife yet she needed to rest and heal after the birth. Jacaerys was due back from his mission in a few days, Daemon decided to fly out to make sure the greens wouldn't attack him, Rhaenys staying with her niece. 

As the assassins creeped through the castle, splitting up, one to go collect the princess and another to avenge Lucerys. Y/n had only been brought back from the cells two days prior, only venturing out with Aemond at night. Aemond had taken a liking to Y/n riding him on the throne, his ego growing when she would call him King. Her dark words of him taking the throne and how feared he could be. He would whisper to her of all the children they would have, his sons sitting on the throne. A pure bloodline to keep the Targaryen name strong. He would often laugh when he said strong, a subtle stab at her family which she would grind her teeth and bare the spark of pain she felt. He didn't believe her intentions were pure, he understand her manipulations trying to get him to take the iron throne but she was being everything she wanted. Accepting him even if he knew she wanted him for different reasons, but she needed him. She wanted him, begged for him and had clung to him in her time of need. He protected her, it was how he could convince himself she loved him. She was aware if she killed him, tried to atleast there would be no more chances. His mother had visited her one morning and held a dagger to her throat, any black blood was not good enough for her son. Reminding her it would be easier to deal with a grieving Aemond than an angry one, Alicent had no idea of what would truly happen but she feared an angry Aemond more having seen the wild way he reacted to Y/n escaping. It had been helpful, he had struck fear into the people of kingslanding of what would happen if they betrayed the greens. He had gotten rid of not one but two enemy dragons and the bastard who took his eye and her sources told her the grief had made Rhaenyra weaker. It would only be a matter of time before she would fall and all of her allies would turn to the greens for forgiveness. 

Once prince Jahaerys was murdered, the two assassins, Blood and Cheese searched for the princess. They did not have much time but searched high and low, finally finding her alone in a chamber, stood by a chained window staring at the sky. Turning around she began to speak believing it to be Aemond

"I thought you had to train.." she trailed off as she saw the random men in her room, her dark green robe dragging along the floor as she moved to get a drink, sighing loudly as she poured a large cup of wine. Downing it before turning back to the two men.

"If you've been sent here by the queen to kill me, can i request to be thrown from a window so i can feel the rush of flying once more." 

"My princess we are here on orders of your father to bring you home." The two men presenting her the seal of her farher, she recognised it instantly. Y/n's eyes widening running towards them, pulling them into the room and slamming the door behind her.

"Can you promise i will get out. I cannot try unless you are certain, no doubt in your mind i will be able to be free." She spoke quickly, when they nodded she began running to change not caring for her company. As she stood in front her, her boots on and hair braided quickly behind her head.

"If Aemond sees you must make it seem as though i am fighting, i will scream and cry, if you don't think it's going to work threaten to kill me." Her eyes fierce. The two men agreed and snuck her from the room, taking out guards quietly as they pulled her through the tunnels below the castle. She could hear the screaming of what she assumed to be a servant, the trail of guards leading Aemond and his guards to her. Aemond ran around the corner, seeing Y/n being dragged, a hand around her mouth as she cried and screamed. Her hand pulling free to reach out to him as the two large men picked her up. Blood could see more guards coming behind them, it was unlikely they would get her out. Pushing her against his as he placed a knife to her throat. Aemond stopped all his men, shouting at them to not get nearer.

"Give her to me now." Aemond demanded, his hand outstretched, Y/n now full sobbed against the man, Aemond's heart breaking as he watched her. Her hands digging into Bloods arm as she stared at Aemond, her body shaking wildly. The two men were impressed by how quickly she had been able to act so scared, unaware she was just terrified of Aemond knowing she'd left willingly. A fight quickly broke out, the two men throwing Y/n towards Aemond, she couldn't risk them being caught so she fell into him and cried. Aemond pulling her away, the two men managing to escape. Y/n clung to him, her arms around his neck and he held her. Whispering to her she was safe, he was there and he had protected her. He tripled the guards around the chambers, laying with her on the bed as she told him what happened.

"They broke in, i was about to leave to watch you train. The two guards had agreed to take me to see you, they grabbed me and began running. I hit the taller one but they were too strong for me i screamed for you but they shoved their dirty hands over my mouth." Y/n stood abruptly grabbing a cup and filling it with wine, reminding herself to keep the story simple, remember it as though it was her name. Pushing tears out as she turned, downing the cup and reaching out to Aemond who pulled her into a hug. 

"I'm so proud of you for fighting them, they killed Halaena's son Jahaerys i suspect they were sent by your mother." He pet her hair as he spoke, he was so happy with her. She'd tried to stay with him, tried to fight them off and ran to him. Y/n shook her head holding to him tighter.

"Can we sleep? I want to feel safe in your arms." Y/n tugged on his arm, both dropping to the bed and cuddling. Her head on his shoulder as she ran her hand up and down his torso. An escape would never be possible on her own, she needed either an army or a dragon capable if taking down Vhagar. She kissed his cheek and closed her eyes. Aemond watched her sleep, petting her head thinking how lucky he was. 

what does everyone think? Also does the taglist work?

@smileykiddie08

@hannaeditzs

@stuckinaf4nfiction

@verybluntstoner

@moonmaiden1996

@yumiassworld

@eonnyx

@whitejuliana1204

@missusnora

@applepyesworld

@mingiholic

@crownofdecit

@destroyingdestiny

@alexisabirdie

@dudfahsn

@littlebatsimagines

@bloode-money

@moonlight-and-stars

@xcharlottemikaelsonx

@onemillionpeopleinone

@random-human02

@hi-im-fan-trash

@meilikki

[smokerswifey]

The seven deadly assholes :

This post is basically me ranting about the biggest bastards in the nnt universe ( I'd rlly like to see other people's opinion on this lol).

7. Ban's Parents

Ban's parents have the last place in the list ( both on parenting and in being assholes ) . They literally had one page in the entire series and still managed to make it into this list !

Seeing Ban getting beat up in the manga was hard enough but in the anime + the emotional music had me punching the air like a 5 year old .

I hope these two are roting in their disgusting home, crying in rage when they find out that there " crap for brains" son is a wealthy king with a family of his own now .

6. Ironside

Yet another crappy parent has made it into the running ! Not only did this jerk abandon his son as a baby and dumped him on his father ( is percival even Ironside's son ?) he couldn't let the poor kid live in peace and MURDERED Percy's grandpa, his own father in cold blood before trying to kill percival too leaving him to die .

If that wasn't enough we found out not that long ago that this ass is happily raising HIS OTHER SON in Camelot, proving that he can actually be a good dad... BUT NOT TO PERCIVAL 💀.

No instead the few times they ran into each other, Ironsid tried to kill percival, harmed his friends and even tried manipulating him into thinking he cared for him to take him by surprise in a fight .

Diodra and Percy both deserve a better dad tbh.

5. Cath Palug

I LOVED YOU, YOU STUPID CAT, I LOVED YOU SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭😭 !!

This adorable piece of crap is what triggered Arthur's descent into evil and I will never ever ever forgive him for that.

( I really loved him...)

4. Arthur

Since I was talking about arthur, I think that the king of chaos rightfully deserved 4th place ( ironically he got 4th place in the popularity contest )

This boy has lost his entire kingdom and his subjects .

He has been betrayed by his closest companions ( Cath, Meliodas when he lost his emotions, Merlin when she used him to awaken Chaos )

He even DIED and came back to life which must've been very traumatising for a teenager ( I think he was 16 during the holy war.

The fact that he went through all of his crap makes a lot of the fandom ( including me ) a bit more emphathising towards him when he became evil .

But he still murdered hundreds of fairy's and giants when they were being manipulated by the supreme deity, ( cursed by light ), capture non human races to turn them into disfigured freaks ( Grudge of edinburgh) and manipulated vulnerable people who lost loved ones in the holy war to join his side . Plus his punishments for knights who have failed his expectations are horrific.

So yeah Arthur your kind of an asshole.

( but I blame merlin and chaos and hopelessly keep believing that he'll come to his senses )

3. Supreme deity and Demon King

*sigh*

You guys take the crown for the worst parents in the nnt universe aswell as the worst leaders of your races .

I'm getting tired and I'm too lazy to make the two page essay of why these creatures are the biggest shit stains on Brittania .

So instead I'm going to close my eyes and revel in the fact that they are both gone.

.....

I'm still reveling

2. Vivian

LOCK THIS BITCH UP FOR FUCKS SAKE, WHAT IS WRONG WITH LIONES SECURITY ????

STRIKE ONE : SHE'S BEEN OBSESSING OVER GILTHINDER SINCE HE WAS A CHILD AND TRIED TO RUIN HIS WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP WITH MARGARET .

STRIKE TWO : SHE HELPS HENDRICKSON

STRIKE THREE : SHE STALKS GILTHUNDER AFTER THE WAR TO THE POINT THAT THEY HAVE TO PUT A CURSE RING ON HER SO SHE STAYS AWAY FROM HIM

STRIKE FOUR : SHE KIDNAPS GIL, LOCKS HIM UP IN SOME GODESS ISLAND OR WHATEVER AND GETS TURNED ON WHEN GILTHUNDER USES THE CURSE RING IN HER, LIKE ITS LITERALLY PAINFUL WHY ARE YOU SMILING???

STRIKE FIVE : SHE KIDNAPS GIL AND MARGARETS 3 YEAR OLD, KEEPS HIM HOSTAGE FOR SIX YEARS AND TURNS HIM INTO A PSYCHO

STRIKE 6 : KIDNAPS CHION AGAIN ???

AGAIN WHAT IS WRONG WITH LIONES SECURITY 😭😭😭😭.

1. Merlin

Merlin, merlin, merlin...

My old favorite character Merlin...

The most badass female character in nnt Merlin...

I was rooting for you...

Until you screwed over all your friends, your apprentice and the whole world for your thirst for KNOWLEDGE.

...

KNOWLEDGE ???

Arthur became a racist for knowledge???

You betrayed your found family for knowledge ??

Escanor's death and sacrifice...was for knowledge...?

You know what glutton, you won the mofo first place just GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU, WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU, HOW DARE YOU-

Sorry for the mistakes and lazy writing i got tired in the end ngl .

Thank you, brave people who read this and goodnight

[straightplayshowdown]

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot: Set in a courtroom in Purgatory, the play asks one of the most plaguing questions in the Christian ideology: What happened to Judas Iscariot? The facts (we think!) we know are these: Judas was the disciple of Jesus who betrayed his friend and teacher to the authorities. He is seen as the man responsible for Jesus’s death; afterwards, Judas fell into despair and hung himself from an olive tree; since then, he has been suffering for his deeds deep in Hell, and will continue to do so for all eternity. Is that really fair? Was Judas the duplicitous master of his own fate, a much-suffering pawn used for Jesus’s ends, or just a man who made a mistake?

Medea: The plot centers on the actions of Medea, a former princess of the kingdom of Colchis, and the wife of Jason; she finds her position in the Greek world threatened as Jason leaves her for a Greek princess of Corinth. Medea takes vengeance on Jason by murdering his new wife as well as her own two sons, after which she escapes to Athens to start a new life.

Propaganda under the cut!

The Last Days of Judas Iscariot:

A courtroom drama about everyone’s favorite biblical traitor, this play confronts the problem of evil head on in a comedic, heartfelt, and tragic way. it’s a favorite with the web weavers of tumblr. this play has the famous “why didn’t you make me good enough that you could have loved me” and it absolutely lives up to that line. if you’ve never read it before i highly recommend it, and if you’re not up for reading right now, there is a honolulu production on youtube that is absolutely fantastic.

Medea:

Imagine you are an Athenian man at the Dionysia circa. 431 BC. You are drunk. Your little Athenian wife is at home weaving or giving birth or talking to the slaves about vegetables or something. On stage, you watch a man dressed as a woman give one of the greatest monologues of all time about how hard it is to be a woman. Maybe you are moved, maybe not. Then you watch her KILL HER CHILDREN with a sword and FLY off into the sky in a chariot pulled by DRAGONS. Wyd?

I do love me a greek play. Chorus is all 'oh no, murder is happening, someone stop it. We can't, obvs '

It’s MEDEA by EURIPIDES. 

[mistralxsoul]

Planned Starter for @bravewolfvesperia

Flynn should have been more prepared. He should have seen the warning signs. Yuri had never liked the vision orbs and even warned him that he would be projected up there one day, for all to see. Flynn, at the time, had quickly requested a change of topic at the time because the idea of Yuri being branded as a criminal was too much for him to handle at the time and he told himself he had more faith in Yuri than that. Yuri was genuinely a good person. He would never ever end up like that. 

But then Captain Aegis from the kingdom of Medegal had been condemned for the crime of trying to run away with the Queen and then murdering her. Flynn knew instantly that it was a false crime. While he didn’t know the circumstances, he knew Aegis. Not on a deep personal level but he had plenty of interactions with the man and had even come to respect him and his convictions. He was loyal through and through and Flynn knew he would never betray the kingdom he served like that. The entire kingdom, from what he had seen, had held Aegis up onto a pedestal as the perfect knight. And within the hour, the entire world had turned their back on him.

If it was that easy for the world to turn their back on someone so cherished by the kingdom, he didn’t want to imagine what it would be like if one of his own appeared on that screen. They wouldn’t stand a chance. The world would gladly condemn a rat from the Lower Quarter with no second thoughts. The idea of it was terrifying.

That idea became reality and it was worse than Flynn had ever imagined. 

Yuri Lowell. Accused of killing an innocent man in his own home in an attempt to rob him. That was the explanation that appeared along with the recording from the vision orb that night. Flynn had been on patrol in another town entirely, having been in the middle of a trip at the time. He remembered his blood running cold when he saw the face of his childhood friend– his best friend– appear on the Vision Central. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t look away, couldn’t even speak.

The story was spun by the man’s adult son who had come across the killing. He had rambled on about how Yuri had snuck in and had been caught trying to steal from the man’s coffer. When he was caught, he went in for the kill. If there were any protests for Yuri from the recording, Flynn didn’t hear them over the sounds of judgment that soon erupted from the people around him (Had he protested? Had he fought the accusations? Flynn wasn’t sure. Surely he did… he did, right?). 

The Vision Central had never sounded so loud before and then after Yuri had been condemned and the recording showed the Enforcers appear on the screen, the recording died and Flynn wished that he had died along with it. Even after leaving Sodia in charge of the Squad so he could try and get back to Zaphias as fast as possible, when he returned to the Lower Quarter, he was too late. And when he nearly collapsed in the middle of the Lower Quarter, he barely registered the tearful voices of Hanks and the other residents as they helped him back to his feet.

Word was that the transgressor that killed that poor man had managed to escape the enforcers but the common opinion had been that it wouldn’t be long before that dirty criminal was caught and punished. Flynn learned that any move to try and defend Yuri resulted in the people nearly turning against him and the Lower Quarter and they soon learned to keep their mouths shut and keep their heads under the radar. 

That was the hardest part, Flynn believed. At least, right under Yuri just… no longer being there. Yuri being gone and not knowing what truly happened. Not knowing if he was still alive out there but knowing that if he was, he would never be able to come home to him ever again. He knew that Repede had run off with Yuri but the fact that Repede hadn’t come home showed that maybe… maybe Yuri was still out there somewhere. If not… then… it was safe to assume that Repede, too, was… Yeah, Flynn didn’t want to finish that thought either. 

It had been a month since then and the days did not get any easier. Flynn doubted that they would, honestly. He and Yuri had been inseparable since they met and they had been through the worst of it together. They were a part of each other and now, with Yuri gone, that part of Flynn was gone as well. He just… no longer felt like himself. All he had now was that fake mask he had to wear at all times, following the strict protocol he had set up for himself in his head. 

Follow orders, don’t argue. Don’t get angry. Do his best to smile and be polite. Earn favor with the higher ups so he could rise through the ranks and change this rotten system. Never let his true feelings show as the nobles will be sure to latch onto the smallest sign of weakness and tear him to shreds. He had to remember this. Especially knowing that he was all alone now. 

At least, he thought so. But then… he receives a report that catches his eyes, causing him to hold in a breath without realizing it. The Vision Central in the middle of Zaphias had been destroyed. There were very few witnesses but the few who had been around had mentioned seeing a man and a dog leave the scene soon after it had been destroyed and Flynn’s chest held a tiny spark of hope. 

He decided to follow this trail, ordering his knights to keep investigating the broken Vision Central. He knew they would have to investigate a way to repair it but that damned thing could stay broken and could burn for all he cared. 

He knew he shouldn’t just assume that this person was Yuri but if a suspicious individual that was a stranger to Zaphias had wandered into the city and destroyed the Vision Central, he would have been found a lot easier in a city this big. No, whoever had done this had managed to find the best way to not be seen by as many people as possible. And no one knew the backpaths of the city as much as he and Yuri did. 

So, Flynn found himself traversing through the alleys and shortcuts that he and Yuri used to run through when they were kids and teenagers growing up together in the city. The paths weren’t well known so he didn’t have to worry about someone spotting him as he hurried down the pathway, taking random turns that he and Yuri had committed to memory. 

And just as he was about to reach the end, just as he was about to doubt that he was simply chasing after a ghost of a man he would never see again, he turned the corner and was met with the sight of a retreating form of a man with long hair that Flynn would know anywhere. The dog that trotted along his side stopped suddenly and whipped around with a growl but the growl stopped short when he saw who their follower was. 

Repede’s ears lower as he whines and Flynn could only take a deep breath and he hates that his voice cracks just slightly when he calls out to the other, just overwhelmed by… by everything. 

“Yuri. …Were you planning on just leaving Zaphias without even bothering to try and find me?” His voice breaks because there’s no room for doubt anymore. This was Yuri in front of him, clear as day. He was alive. He was alive and Flynn wasn’t sure if he could cry from relief or anger that the man was trying to leave without a single word to him. 

[thesunfyre4446]

team black stans rejoice that Aegon was poisoned by his own allies, but they forget the fact that the people of dragonstone betrayed Rhaenyra and hid Aegon for 6 months without not a word of this reached Rhaenyra despite all the gold she offered, not a word that her rival for the throne was there recovering. Imao, if they wanted, could take the same route that Steffon darklyn took to deliver her the stolen crown, dragonstone is very very close to king's Landing, she achieved the feat of being rejected by the two places she was supposed to govern. This is "the chosen one"

oh yeah the blacks and Rhaenyra in particular suffered a lot more betrayals than the greens : the dragonseeds, house mooton, house velaryon (after she imprison corlys for trying to save his own son), the people of dragonstone that helped aegon take the castle and even daemon - who refused to let nettles be killed and return to rhaenyra in KL and chose to fight aemond knowing he'll prob die. (does it count as betrayal? because he died taking aemond & vhagar out but still abandoned rhaenyra). the countless betrayals that rhaenyra suffered throughout the dance made her grow paranoid and led to her eventual downfall.

i don't think people understand the importance of rhaenyra losing the support of dragonstone : this is HER seat. her castle. this is where the black council sit, this is the stronghold of her supporters. the fact that she lost the loyalty of her own people, the fact that she fled KL after losing the city to her own home - to dragonstone - only to be murdered there - this is her greatest tragedy!

[humanpurposes]

i often think of how different your writing style is to your fellow writers, and I wonder if you are very picky about what you consume/read because of it.

Do you often venture outside of your own writing style to read fics that are different and yet, good? If yes, would you recommend them?

It's interesting thinking about style because it is obviously subjective and very personal to each writer. I like to think I have quite a distinct voice as a writer and fanfiction has really helped me settle into that after not writing anything for a long time.

I think you learn a lot from the stories around you, if it's fics, books, movies, plays, history, music, whatever, especially when you branch out of your own style or comfort zone. I love exploring other people's writing and comparing it to my own, seeing what details they focus on, how they describe people and settings. I think essentially, the most important thing for me as a reader/consumer of media is that the story and the characters are interesting. As long as you've got a good story (and smut and yearning and pining), I'm happy.

I've specifically thought this about Sam (@randomdragonfires) and Justine's (@theoneeyedprince) writing, that they're very different to mine but that's why I love reading their fics. They both have a really classic, poetic feel to their writing, and internal, if that makes sense? I personally struggle with internal monologue because that's just not how my brain works, I think I focus a lot more on actions and dialogue. But that all really lends itself to the stories they tell, love you guys 🥺❤️

Also Ange @ewanmitchellcrumbs is one of my favs on here because the level of detail and the subtleties that go into her fics make for such immersive stories. Her writing feels very grounded and real and I really admire that about her. And her dedication to character is something I really appreciate 🥰

I have some more specific recs just because I wanted to ramble about some fics I like. Also because it's me, these are all a bit DD;DNE

I could see your shadow in the water (beneath the castle where you broke my heart) by Rueluxxx This is a fem!Lucerys fic told from the pov of Aemond and Lucerys' son. It's not a love story at all, it's very traumatic. But THE REASON WHY I am obsessed with this fic is the tragedy of loving someone and never being able to make amends. Aemond reaches a point where he realises how much he's made his wife suffer and starts living in this delusion where he tries to win her back but it will never be enough. They loved each other as children, they work well together as rulers, they have their own children now, and she will always do her duty as his wife, but no matter how hard Aemond tries, Lucerys will never want him. Chapter 6 in particular broke my heart, some of the best dialogue I've read.

Moon Song by @randomdragonfires We're following a pattern here of Aemond's doomed marriages but this was made specifically for me!! This focuses on Aemond's guilt after he murders Luke at Storm's End, only to come back home to his wife, Luke's twin sister. I love how this fic creates the juxtaposition of Aemond's suffering and guilt, how he still longs for a relationship with his wife and is haunted by the image of her twin brother. And it's told from his pov so you're left wondering about his wife's lingering longing and hatred, if she wants to salvage their marriage, if she fears him and just wants to appease him? Anyway, Aemond feels like he's losing her to the brother he murdered, and no spoilers but the ending is WOW.

Rumours by @adragonprinceswhore Oh boy, another failed marriage. Fun fact about Inka, she actually owns my soul. I'm so emo for Fleetwood Mac and this fic combines my two favourite things to ever exist. Despite definitely being in the wrong here, Aemond is my favourite character in this, his struggle to express his own feelings and the love he had/still has for his ex-wife. He feels betrayed because she left him, guilty because he hurt her, and the way the music is woven into this just adds a whole other level of emotion. AND HE WAS THE ONE TO WRITE STORMS??? I can't deal. "I'm your family now, Aemond." Liar. Will never not get me.

Ok that's all I have for you, ta ra x

[myhauntedsalem]

Jesse James Haunted Farm

It is said that the James farm in Kearney, Missouri where the notorious outlaw Jesse James grew up is haunted. Jesse James’ parents moved from Kentucky to Kearney in 1842.

His father was a Baptist minister who wanted his boys to be well educated. However, in a trip to the California gold fields he died leaving his sons without a father, Jesse was just 3 years old.

His mother, Zerelda lived on this farm for the rest of her life, through three marriages and eight children.

During the Civil War in 1863 the James’ farm was brutally attacked by Union soldiers. Shortly afterward Jesse age 16 and his older brother Frank became Confederate guerilla soldiers, riding with William Quantrill and Bloody Bill Anderson.

Quantrill’s Raiders as they later became known operated out of Missouri. They ambushed Union patrols and supply convoys. They seized the mail and occasionally struck towns on the Kansas-Missouri border. Their main focus though was against the local pro-Union civilians, which they tried to drive out of the territory.

After the Civil War the James brothers, Jesse and Frank now officially outlaws started to attack trains, banks and stagecoaches that were controlled by the Northern side which bought brutal control to the Missouri legislation.

From 1860 to 1882, the James gang was the most feared band of outlaws in America. Responsible for 20 bank and train robberies they murdered countless individuals that stood in their way. They stole an estimated $200,000. Despite their ruthlessness they became folk heroes to some. They literally became legends in their own time.

The local citizens of Kearney kept quiet when they were home on the farm during this period of time. Clay county where the farm is located was in a part of Missouri called Little Dixie, the entire state was 75% southern sympathizers. Both Jesse and Frank were devoted husbands and fathers who spent a lot of time with their families. They were not modern Robin Hoods though, for they kept the money they stole.

In 1869 the gang robbed a bank in Gallatin, Missouri. Jesse shot the banker through the heart feeling he was responsible for the callous murder of Bloody Bill Anderson. The James gang lost some public favor after this. Local newspapers started to call for the capture of this blood thirty gang.

Frustrated at how the locals protected them, Governor Crittenden had the railroad place an enormous price on the James brother’s heads. Pinkerton detectives hired by several bankers raided the James farm in 1875 thinking the older brothers were there. They threw a bomb in the window killing Jesse and Frank’s younger half-brother, Archie as their mother watched. She lost part of her right arm and hand during this struggle.

In one bank robbery several members of the gang were killed. After this the Youngers, a part of their gang were sent to prison for 25 years.

In 1882 the brothers planned one last robbery with Charley and Bob Ford. They did not know these brothers intended to betray them for the large price on their heads.

On the morning they were to commit this robbery Jesse ate breakfast with the Ford’s, placed his gun on one of the farmhouse beds and stopped to straighten a picture that hung on the wall. Bob Ford shot Jesse in the back of the head. He died instantly and was buried in the side yard of the James’ farmhouse. His remains were later moved to the family plot at Mount Olivet Cemetery in Kearney.

The locals did not appreciate what the Ford brothers had done. Bob Ford who was pardoned by Governor Crittenden was driven out of Missouri known as the coward who had shot Jesse. He traveled around in a Wild West show ironically about the James gang. He was shot and killed in Creede, Colorado in 1892. His older brother Charley stayed in Missouri but was shunned. He committed suicide ten years after his brother was murdered.

Frank James gave himself up after Jesse was killed. He was tried several times but there never was enough evidence to convict him. He lived peacefully for the rest of his life at the farm. In later years he charged tourists money to give them a tour of the place.

The James farm and house have been considered haunted for over 100 years. Located off James Road in Kearney, Missouri the farm is a museum today. Employees at this farm still report odd occurrences. After the museum closes for the night many have spotted lights going on and off in the farmhouse. Others report that doors have slammed shut in front of them without cause.

Several witnesses have reported hearing horse hooves stomping outside on foggy nights. When investigated nothing has been found. Others have reported hearing whispered conversations inside the house when no one is there. Some have even heard the bomb going off or cries and gunshots as if a Civil War battle is happening outside. Many staff at the museum today will not go into the house alone. They state that they feel an unnatural intense presence in the home that scares them.

[mabeljonesrock]

Azrael

True name: Abel Nicknames: Death, the grim reaper, the angel of death, the shepherd of souls, the prince of purgatory, the son of Adam and Eve Home/Location: Purgatory Age: young adult(biological). He was in his 20s when he died. Personality: Before his murder and transformation into the angel of death, he used to have a personality similar to Charlie Morningstar. Optimistic, compassionate and empathetic to a fault, he always believed the goodness in everyone(including his father and twin brother) no matter how bad they were. That is until Cain betrayed and killed him and it shattered his belief. Not everyone is a good person. Back to the present, Azrael(What he renamed himself now) is now a cynical, jaded and cantankerous yet efficient grim reaper whose job is to claim the souls of those who died and sees it as a necessary public service. He is something of a busy workaholic and always takes his job very seriously. He loves the job not because he enjoys reaping souls but because he enjoys helping and guiding souls to the afterlife. He is very bitter about how his life is cut too short and he never gets the chance to experience a full life(like falling in love, starting a family or dying peacefully of an old age). He admits he envied those who managed to experience a full life and felt sorry for those whose lives were cut too short. Azrael holds life sacred and is disgusted by those who don't treat their own lives with true appreciation or care. He can get very intimidating and dangerous when you get on his bad side. Overall, he still retains his kind-heartedness from his old life and was supportive and loyal to his friends, and an affectionate son and brother to his family. He's intuitive, observant and perceptive, with a sharp eye and a quick mind. Likes: his family, collecting and helping souls move on to the afterlife, playing his piano/keyboard, animals, sheep, herding sheep, his horse, all kinds of curries, cake, coffee, peppers, gardening, baking, Halloween, dios los Muertos, gothic fashion, travelling, Charlie’s songs, Charlie’s hotel, music, ghosts, skulls, children and babies, reading romance novels, rainy days, playing puzzles, art, drawing/sketching/painting, doing commissions, trying new things, movies, Emily Dislikes: his dad being a dick, bullies, animal abuse/cruelty, Emily being hurt, his past, those who wasted their lives or didn’t value life, trolls, death cheaters, exterminations, humiliation, ecocide, being all alone Sexuality:biromantic demisexual Species: psychopomp, human(formerly) Gender: male Pronouns: mainly goes by He/Him but wouldn’t mind any pronouns Abilities: Multilingualism, shadow manipulation, gravity manipulation, invisibility, levitation, flight, pyrokinesis, electrokinesis, cryokinesis, super strength, super speed, clairvoyance, mediumship, possession, illusions, nigh invulnerability, immortality, skilled weapon mastery, scythe proficiency, enhanced endurance, musical talent, piano-playing skills, weapon transmutation, high intelligence, strategic mind, shapeshifting, size manipulation, duplication, soul collecting, skilled combatant, parkour, soul reading, omnipresence, portal creation, teleportation, necromancy, horse-riding, temperature immunity, intangibility, Zoolingualism, soul manipulation, conjuration, and life absorption Weapon: the magic Scythe, the scroll of souls Status: Active Occupation: Grim reaper, shepherd(formerly) Family: Lucifer(spiritual father), Adam(biological father), Eve(mother), Cain(Fraternal twin brother), Seth(younger brother), 25 other siblings Romantic interests:Emily(future girlfriend) Backstory: Long ago in a time before death existed, Azrael was once Abel the son of Adam and Eve and the twin brother of Cain. Abel grew up appreciating life around him and had many dreams and goals awaiting for him in the future like trying new things, falling in love and starting a family. He even dreams of making a hotel for animals.

Cain became a farmer due to his strength and knowledge of agriculture while Abel became a shepherd due to his love for animals and caring nature. Adam often favors Abel over Cain because he has his looks while Cain doesn’t. This makes Cain envious of his younger brother and begins resenting him.

Cain and Abel would constantly ask their parents where they came from, but Adam and Eve would try and dodge the question. One day however, they realized they couldn't dodge the question any longer so they told their children the truth. They were told that they were created by the angels from Heaven and that they were kicked out of the Garden of Eden after breaking the one rule they had.

Cain became furious from this revelation, and stormed out of the house with Abel not too far behind. They ended up finding their way out into a field, where Abel came up with an idea. Abel stated that they could possibly call upon the angels from heaven by trying to offer them their gifts in the hopes to apologize and be let back into Eden, and with nothing better to do Cain took him up on this.

The next morning, they went to the tallest mountain and prayed to the heavens.

First, Cain tried to offer some of his crops, grass and wheat. They waited for the angels to arrive but they didn't. Then, Abel tried offering up one of his sheep, and to their surprise, it got the attention of the angels. The angels arrived and thanked Abel for the offering. The two brothers watched in awe and bewilderment as the angels took the sheep and flew to the heavens. Cain became frustrated that the angels didn’t accept his offering but Abel suggested they try again tomorrow.

Every day, they would repeat the same thing. Wake up early, go to the highest mountain and pray, offer them with their gifts etc. But the angels always took Abel’s offering instead of Cain’s. Cain’s hatred for Abel grew stronger every day when the angels repeatedly neglected his gift. Abel, on the other hand, got more curious every day and began to wonder why the angels only accepted his offer. He took a look at Cain’s offering and began to realize why. The crops, grass and wheat were not ripe enough. Abel decided to help Cain by farming in secret.

At night when everyone is asleep, he puts on his cloak, takes Cain’s scythe and he sneaks off to the crops to do some farming. But he didn’t know that Cain awoke and went outside to find him farming in his crops. Out of blind fury, Cain picks up a rock and throws it hard at Abel’s head, killing him.

The last thing he knew was a sudden sharp blow in his head and saw nothing but red….

Abel slowly opens his eyes to find himself in a strange realm that is neither Heaven or Hell. It was nothing but darkness and the only light was his new glowing eyes for him to guide the way. Confused, He wanders aimlessly in the darkness, trying to figure himself out why he died and end up in this new realm instead of heaven and hell. Along the way, he encountered ghostly spirits of animals quietly wandering around in this strange new place, confused and scared. Abel felt a wave of sadness when he saw them with no home to go to.

Wanting to help these poor animals, he began to try to think up a plan to find a new home for them. As Abel thought up new ideas to find an afterlife for them, he imagined Eden. Suddenly, a new garden(that looks weirdly similar to the Eden he imagined of) appeared right in front of him and the animals quickly accepted the garden as their new home. He was startled and shocked by his new power to summon the place he imagined when suddenly a scroll appeared in his hand. He opens it and a list of names magically appears in the scroll.

Reading the list from the scroll, Abel finds himself teleporting to the real world. He saw an old fox dying near the tree. As he gently caressed the dying fox, a warm, ethereal light enveloped the soul as it left the fox's body. The fox’s soul, now freed from her mortal body, hovered happily in the air before cozying up in his shoulders.

Abel smiled as he glanced at the ghostly fox resting on his shoulders and a portal to the realm opened up in front of him. With a soft whisper, he guided the soul of the fox towards the realm he had discovered earlier, where the garden awaited. The soul of a fox hesitated for a moment, looking back at Abel with gratitude before stepping through the portal, disappearing into the serene landscape beyond.

Feeling a sense of fulfillment in guiding the fox's soul, Abel understood the gravity of his newfound responsibility. He glanced at the scroll in his hand, realizing that it held the names of souls whose time on Earth had come to an end. Each name on the scroll represented a life that had ended, and it was now his duty to ensure their transition to the next realm.

Suddenly, he saw Cain walking towards the tallest mountain. Abel was delighted to see his brother again. He ran up to him and was about to hug him…only for his fingers to pass right through Cain, as if he was a ghost. Abel was shaken by this revelation but what was more shocking is when Cain quietly muttered something about killing his brother. That is when Abel finally finds out who killed him. It was none other than his beloved brother, Cain!

Heartbroken by the betrayal, Abel wanted to cut ties with his old mortal life and decided to shed his old name and become something more. From that on, he was no longer Abel, the kind but naive human shepherd who always looked up to his brother. Instead he renamed himself as Azrael, the grim reaper and the ruler of the new realm called Purgatory.

Embracing his new identity as Azrael, he accepted the responsibility bestowed upon him and set forth on his journey, traversing the mortal world to claim the souls of the departed.

Despite the bitterness and sorrow that lingered within him for the life he had lost, Azrael found solace in his ability to offer comfort and guidance to those who passed on. Though he could never experience the joys and sorrows of mortal life himself, Azrael found fulfillment in his duty to guide souls towards their final destination.

During the first years, It was just the souls of the animals. That is until many, many years later, he collected his first soul of a human…his dad. It was a ball-like object containing his dad’s soul. After reading the instructions from the scroll, He threw his father’s soul up into the sky and watched as his dad’s soul floated up into the sky, going to heaven.

Over the centuries, Azrael continued his work and learned to embrace his role as Death. With each passing soul, Azrael learns about the souls of humans. If the soul of a human is coloured gold and was destined for Heaven, he threw the soul up into the sky. If the soul of a human is coloured red and destined for Hell, he threw it down into the ground.

Though his path was fraught with challenges and hardships, Azrael remained steadfast in his commitment to serve as a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding souls towards their eternal rest.

Trivia: 1. Cain and Abel are twins in my version(With Cain being a few minutes older than Abel). They were conceived when Lucifer possessed Adam and he had an affair with Eve. In other words, that makes Adam and Lucifer both their fathers. Cain takes more of Lucifer’s looks while Abel takes more of Adam’s looks. 2. His presence is completely invisible to mortals except the animals, children, babies and those who are close to death. 3. He rules over a realm called Purgatory where ghosts with unfinished businesses and souls of deceased animals live. 4. He can grow wings that are similar to angels but they are pure black. 5. The reason he shed his old name and renamed himself Azrael is because he wanted to forget his old, worthless human life and remind himself that he was no longer Abel the human son of Adam and Eve but Azrael the angel of death. 6. A true animal lover. Not only is he a very devoted shepherd in life, but he kept the souls of deceased animals in his realm where they live happily in his garden. 7. He owns a horse named Ghost and an enormous herd of sheep to keep him company. They weren’t just ordinary sheep, they were the spirits of the deceased sheep and the caretakers of his castle. They take over his duties whenever he gets too stressed out and needs to relax. 8. His castle includes a library, a cinema-sized home theatre, an art studio, a music room, a pool, an aquarium, and the most ginormous garden you have ever seen(this is where the souls of the deceased animals live). 9. His garden is an almost replica of Eden. 10. He loves children and babies as much as he loves animals. That is mainly because he never gets a chance to be a dad. He died before he could start a family and have children of his own. 11. He is nonbinary and biromantic demisexual. 12. Underneath his mask and hood, he looks like Adam but with longer hair, a much skinnier figure, darker skin, a scar on his head and glowing blue eyes. His strong resemblance to his father is the main reason why Adam favours Abel over Cain. 13. His favourite colour is blue. 14. When not working, he spends his time gardening, reading, drawing/painting/sketching, playing his piano, singing, baking/cooking, playing puzzles, listening to music, watching movies/TV shows and taking care of the animals in his realm. He sometimes visits Emily when he gets the chance. 15. Like his brothers, he is a mama’s boy. 16. Despite not needing to eat or drink, he enjoys food and is a fan of spicy and sweet. His favourite foods were curry, ghost and Carolina peppers, coffee and Death by Chocolate cake. 17. Unlike his father, he doesn’t swear but when he gets angry, stressed out or frustrated, he swears as much as his father. 18. He is a big movie buff and a total bookworm. His favourite genres are horror, romance, adventure, mystery, thriller and musical. 19. In life, he used to look up to Cain because he thought he was cool and yearned to be more like him until Cain killed him and he lost his appreciation for his older brother. Now, he wants nothing to do with him anymore(although a part of him felt he should forgive him). 20. He knew several languages due to collecting souls all over the world. 21. His favorite holidays are Halloween and dios los muertos. 22. Inspiration for his character are Sans(undertale), Lewis Pepper(Mystery Skulls), Grim(the grim adventures of Billy and Mandy), Death(Discworld), and Death(the loving reaper). 23. Because he was murdered by his brother he used to admire, he was having a bit of trust issues. 24. He is one of four horsemen of the apocalypse.

(I planning to draw an art of him)

[calisources]

GAME OF THRONES: HISTORIES AND LORE - ROBERT'S REBELLION. all sentences are taken from a mini-web series of hbo's game of thrones with different characters narrating different aspects of the world. this specific sentence memes is made from various videos of perspectives of robert's rebellion. change pronouns, names and locations as seen fit. this is a long post.

By Robert Baratheon.

The crimes of House Targaryen were too heinous to go unanswered.

The noble houses of Baratheon, Stark and Arryn united to oppose and overthrow the line of the cursed Dragon Kings.

We tried to take Ashford Castle in the Reach but the Tyrell’s beat us back.

The Targaryen searched from house to house for Robert Baratheon.

The combined forces of Ned Stark and the Tully's swept into the city guards. What a day that was. It's now known as the Battle of the Bells.

 It was his heir, Rhaegar who started the whole damn thing

Finally emerged from hiding in the south and assembled his own army to face us.

The battle that would decide the fate of the Seven Kingdoms occurred at the crossing of the Green Fork of the Trident River.

Rhaegar commanded the royal host which was some 40,000 strong.

Their  forces were outnumbered by nearly  5000 men but that didn't matter, they were fresh that we were battle-hardened and had justice on our side.

The Stag and The Dragon right there in the fort of the river.

Ned Stark goes to the capital to face the Mad King and make him pay for his crimes.

By Viserys Targaryen.

The Targaryens, Blood of the Dragon and the last of old Valyria were loved by their subjects and admired far and wide as the greatest dynasty in the history of the Western world.

Three centuries of Targaryen rule was shattered by the usurper Robert Baratheon and his band of traitors.

House Baratheon owed its very existence to the Targaryen.

Was it not Aegon the dragon himself who elevated the bastard Orys Baratheon in the war of conquest?

There are some who dare to claim Robert and his allies had reason to rebel.

They say the crown prince stole the usurper's lady love. They say my father King Aerys murdered Rickard Stark and his son without just cause.

Whether these charges are true or not? It doesn’t matter if the dragon answers to no one.

Aerys' good name has been besmirched in the years since the Rebellion. He’s been called a dangerous madman, a monster, a tyrant that brought  his tragic end upon himself.

My father was a victim of weaklings in his Council, lackwits who failed him in his hour of need and let the rebellion spin out of control.

At the Battle of the Trident, it was there the valiant Rhaegar met Robert in single combat but the gods betrayed him, and he perished by the usurper’s hand.

The Battle of the Trident seemed to herald the end of the Dragon kings.

I was the surviving heir to the throne. 

He sent me to the island fortress of Dragonstone along with my mother Queen Rhaella who was great with child.

King Aerys Targaryen prepared to defend his throne to the bitter end.

By Oberyn Martell.

 House Martell could have waged war until the end of days.

His royal parents had not produced a sister for him to wait, so he had to look elsewhere for a princess and there was only one in Westeros. Elia of house Martell.

She was not the most beautiful woman in the world or even in Dorne but rare for a woman from our land.

Her flower came with no thorns. She was kind and clever with a gentle heart.

I loved her, I feared for her for years I fended off lesser men from her but when Rhaegar came even I failed.

He was beautiful and the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms and our mother had worked so hard to secure the match.

They were wed and he took her from her home from those who loved her and would die for her and locked her in his red keep.

She bore him a daughter and a son though, each almost cost her her life.

Elia loved Rhaegar, she obeyed him and he chose to steal away Lyanna Stark.

A pale northern girl whose veins ran with ice like all her people.

 instead of disciplining his faithless son, King Aerys executed the Starks when they came seeking justice.

Even in his madness he knew that no true Dornishmen would ever take up arms against our beloved princess and that we would fight to the death.

Prince Rhaegar, who was too slow or too arrogant for Robert's Warhammer.

Lord Tywin's Army sacked his friend's city while Lord Tywin's son  murdered the king he'd sworn to protect.

War is terrible and men must become terrible to wage it.

Lord Tywin's dog Ser Gregor Clegane the mountain, made Elia watch as he murdered her daughter and dashed her infant son's head against a wall.

With her baby's blood still on his hands he raped my sister and murdered her.

By Catelyn Tully/Stark.

Brandon Stark of Winterfell sought and won my hand.

Brandon was heir to the north and a suitable match for a daughter of house Tully.

Brandon was wild and terrifying, never far from laughter or trouble.

I loved him with all the fire of her first passion.

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen abducted Brandon's sister Lyanna. Hot-blooded as always, Brandon immediately rode for King's Landing to demand justice.

Brandon's younger brother, a man whom I had never met though of whom none spoke ill or spoke anything at all.

I spent the war by the windows waiting for a raven to hear if my son would grow up fatherless or at all. We knew the price of defeat.

When he came home to me he could not meet my eyes. I saw the reason by his side.

Many  men have bastards, I know, and under the strain of war any man no matter how honorable may forsake his vows for a night of warmth that he may never know again.

Ned Stark was not built like other men. His northern honor would not let him sequester his shame in some distant holdfast.

These bitter memories are sweet now they are all I have left of my Ned.

The Starks are of the North and like the snows of winter when they come south they melt away.

By Ser Jaime Lannister.

Kingslayer. A word every man and woman in Westeros spits at me, though many can't even name the king I slayed.

 I understand to them,  I'm a symbol of everything they'll never have and a warning that'll

never apply.

When a  dog goes mad we put it down. Why not a King?

I was never supposed to be on the Kingsguard. 

Oh as a boy I dreamed of the white cloak like all boys.

If Tywin Lannister forbade the tides, the waves would cease.

She could arrange for the king to raise me to the Kingsguard so I could stay in the city with her.

Is it a rock you want or me? Come morning she had my consent.

 I would join the Kingsguard for her. I would force my lands and title for her. I would forsake our family for her.

Everything started to fall apart at Harrenhal.

King Aerys made a great show of my investiture.

I admit despite my father's anger I was happy and foolish.

He commanded me to return to the Red Keep to guard the Queen and little Prince Viserys. 

The Mad King had chosen me to spite my father and steal his heir. I wanted to rip off the white cloak but it was too late.

I kept the King's secrets when his Pyromancer said caches of wildfire beneath King's Landing.

It fell to me to hold the red keep.

Royal Command,  bring me your father's head if you were no traitor.

Burn them, burn them all he kept muttering.

As I approached the throne, sanity flashed behind the King's eyes for a moment just long enough to read the look in mine.

He turned and ran, a single thrust was all it took to end the greatest dynasty the world had ever seen.

The last dragon king squealed like a pig and shat himself so easily. I thought a king should die harder than this.

I knew at once when I saw the way they looked at me I would be blamed.

I commanded them to announce that the Mad King was dead and to spare all those who yielded 

They asked me if they should proclaim a new king as well. I knew what they meant. Would it be my father or Robert Baratheon? or maybe the charred verse

Proclaim who you bloody well like

I climbed the steps of the Iron Throne and sat on it with my sword.