#v-forsaken prince

[barbieaemond]

A curse for a curse

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, sub!Aemond, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), overstimulation, orgasm denial, p in v, chains kink (idk if that’s even a thing but it’s there)

Word count: 8.5K

Author’s note: PLEASE READ THIS ->There's a little canon divergenge as in Rook's Rest is not happened yet, so Aegon is King and Aemond went to Harrenhal. Based on a request I got for sub!Aemond.

Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @ashovertheriver

Harrenhal tastes like curse and smoke when she enters the blackened and ruined walls.

She is sure, as she is sure that dragons are real, that this place has been cursed over and over since Balerion and Aegon the Conqueror proved that not even stone was safe against dragonfire.

The air is heavy in her lungs, as breathing through a thick layer of wool and her steps echo down the corridors in a strange way; it seems like a never ending sound, echoing through the walls and many lost ages.

But her stride is steady, her eyes fixed on the doors of the Hall of One Hundred Hearths where she is sure to find him, where she will end this thing for which she has no name, and yet it is draining her, wearing her out like a starved leech.

“When is Aemond coming back?” the Queen Mother asks, and then little Jaehaera asks the same question, even Helaena, in those rare moments of clarity, wonders about her brother. And each time, she doesn’t know what to say. Her lip grows stiff, her jaw clenches and she wonders obsessively from dawn till dusk. What is he doing there?

Why has he not returned now that Harrenhal has been taken?

What is he doing with that bastard woman? 

“They say she’s a witch.” King Aegon says with his glassy eyes, putting down his cup as he looks around to choose a target on which to pour his anger. Wine seems to not work anymore, it is not enough to quench his thirst for revenge, and unfortunately, she happens to be the easiest mark.

“He killed everyone in that gods-forsaken place. Everyone except the witch.” He leans forward, watching her with amused anticipation just like a child who waits for his favorite toy to break. “Why did he not do it, sweet good-sister?”

He wants her to snap, and surely something does snap inside her, but she refuses to be humiliated like this.

“I do not know, your Grace. Perhaps my husband learned the Gods’ mercy and decided to spare a woman.”

His chest shakes violently as he laughs, and there’s nothing more humiliating than his laugh, not even the whispers traveling all the way from the Riverlands.

He’s taken her as his prisoner, keeps her in his chambers.

She has utterly bewitched him.

Every word is a stab to her heart and every time his word reaches her through a raven, the wound splits more open and festers.

He does not mention the bastard witch. He says nothing on the matter. He informs her of the war progressing, tells her he will come back soon.

Soon.

Soon was two moons ago and he’s still there.

It doesn’t matter anymore, she thinks as she reaches the doors of Harrenhal. Soon is now.

The look on Ser Criston Cole is almost comical as two soldiers open the doors of the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. “Princess?”

She immediately looks around, but there’s no silver in that huge black hall.

“What are you doing here?” the Hand asks, walking to her “It is not safe for you—”

“Where is the Prince?” she cuts him off, her tongue hitting her teeth like a blade cleaving the air.

Ser Criston looks puzzled for a moment, and even if she doesn’t show it, anguish twists her gut. But then he says “The Prince is not here, your Grace. He’s out, on the battle camp.”

She looks at the soldiers in the room, watching her like some kind of weird creature—a lamb in a den of wolves. That is no place for a princess, no place for a woman. And yet, it is precisely her place.

She belongs to his side. As he belongs to hers. It’s what she’s been telling herself for two moons of sleepless nights.

She should have come here with him in the first place, war be damned.

“Leave, please.” She orders the men “All of you. I need a word with the Hand.”

They may not be used to taking orders from a woman, but they immediately leave the Hall like a pack of unruly children.

The thud of the doors is like some kind of curtain falling and she is finally free of this act, free to snap.

“What is going on here, Ser Criston?”

He shifts on his feet, looking down, looking utterly incapable to answer her question. “The situation in the Riverlands is quite delicate at the moment—”

“I don’t give a shit about the war, Ser Criston.” She almost hisses “You are perfectly aware of what I’m asking.”

His mouth shuts and she resists the urge to use her hands as talons to part his lips and grab the truth from his throat.

“What is going on between Aemond and the witch.” she states, she is not asking.

The Hand sighs deeply and takes a step closer. His whole demeanor changes, becomes confidential, almost fatherly. “My Princess, you must not believe the foul whispers that have been spread.”

She feels a glimmer of relief blooming in her heart, but not strong enough to relinquish the leeches sucking at her bones. “What should I believe then?”

“It’s true. The Prince spared her life.”

“Does he keep her in his chambers?”

“What? Seven Hells, no. She has her own chamber. A little room in the wing intended for servants.”

“Did she ever visit his rooms? Alone?”

Ser Criston looks down for a moment, his lips contracting. “You must understand, my Princess. There are no servants here.”

The wound between her ribs cracks open.

There are no servants here. Did she help him dress? Did she help him bathe? Did she do all the things she used to do? All the things only she was entitled to do?

“I want to see her.”

“Princess, it is not wise.”

“I believe it is very much wise, Ser Criston, since my marriage is at stake here.”

 Ser Cole sighs again. “She’s…dangerous, my Princess. She’s eerily persuasive.”

“So, you think it’s true? That she’s a witch?”

“I’m not sure about her powers, my Princess. All I know is that…one of our soldiers spat in her face when she was still a captive by order of the Rogue Prince and she just…murmured something to this man.” He swallows lowering his gaze and takes a deep breath. “The next day he ripped out his own tongue with his bare hands, bleeding to death.”

Disturbing as these words can be, she keeps a steady and cold face.  

“She claims she can read the flames. That they speak to her, that she saw all of this happening—the Prince coming here. She claims she saw the fate of the war.”

A long silence stretches between them, but however right the Hand’s reasoning may be, she is not keen to let magic and superstitions take what she has come here to retrieve. “Take me to her.”

Ser Cole stalls for a moment, trying to make her give up by merely looking at her. But at last, he caves. “As you wish, my Princess.”

Her room is completely bare, save for a hearth and a bundle of dirty covers and a pillow thrown on the ground.

She enters and the air feels even heavier, more cursed. She feels it like something weighing on her shoulders, drying her throat.

There’s a woman sitting before the fire, clad in rags with long black hair falling down her back. She seems to register the door opening and closing only minutes later, as if she was too focused on her fire staring. But then she turns her head and looks at the woman before her with a strange smile.

“Alas, you have come.”

The Princess blinks quickly, watching the woman stand up and walk closely to her, chains on her feet and hands. She feels something unsettling under her skin, behind her eyes, as if she can’t stop looking straight into the green eyes of the witch, not even if she wanted to.

“You must be Alys.” She says, quickly scanning the witch before returning, inevitably, like a magnet, into her bright green eyes.

The woman, whose age is impossible to determine, keeps her smile as she looks at the Princess from head to toe. “You are exactly as I saw you in the flames.”

“That will save us some time, then. No need for introductions.”

“No. I know who you are.” The witch says, curling her cracked lips some more “I can see his mark on you.”

“His mark?”

“Yes.” She says, unnaturally widening her eyes. “He leaves a mark on everything. Things, places, people. Much like me, I’d say.” From her throat gushes a high-pitched laugh, jarring and spiteful. “We have much in common, the Kinslayer and I.”

The way she utters the last words makes the Princess grind her teeth, as if they were…what? Friends? Allies?

Lovers?

“Have you been in his chambers all this time?” she finally asks and the witch has the boldness to roll her eyes. “Is that the only reason you’re here? To know if he cheated on you?”

“Answer my question.” The Princess orders.

“Darling, If I wanted to fuck him, I would’ve done it ages ago.” She starts laughing again, grinning mischievously and then she sighs. “You left your mark on him as well. I can feel you in his head. And you are so heavy.”

She doesn't know what to make of that. There is not a single reason why she should trust her word. And it's not just the alleged powers this woman may possess. It's her whole demeanor. Haughty, even though she is a bastard. Mocking, as if she looks at the young woman before her, and sees much, much more.

“Just as you, I’d say, since he’s forsaken his family and his wife to do whatever you’re making him do it with your witchcraft.”

She bursts out laughing, so loud that the Princess flinches and takes a step back.

“I’m not making him doing anything. I can’t play with his head. He’s too stubborn. I did not curse him, sweetheart. Your beloved prince is already accursed.”

“Then what do you want? Gold? Lands?”

“I do what the flames command. I serve no God, no King, no Lord. And neither does your husband. It was his choice to see.”

“To see what?”

“What the flames choose to show. I know how this war will end. I know which color will stain the other for good. I know who will sit on the Iron Throne.”

The Princess furrows her brow, confused and puzzled, apparently pleasing the witch who smiles again and nods. “Oh yes, he will make a sight to behold wearing the Conqueror’s Crown.”

Who? Aemond? On the Iron Throne?

“So that’s how you’re keeping him here. With visions and fantasies.”

“He asked me to. At the moment I’m more valuable to him than all his generals and soldiers put together. Besides, I know how to deal with him.”

The Princess almost laughs at this. “I see. You think you can handle him, don’t you? A wild dragon for you to tame, is that what he is for you?”

“Well, I’m not denying he’s handsome enough to please my eyes.”

“And once you have tamed him, what will you do? How will you handle him when you scratch the surface, and you see the neglected son? Lonely, misunderstood, maimed. The boy no one cared for.”

It is the first time the witch does not have a quick biting answer. It makes the Princess rejoice.

“All your witchcraft won’t be enough to handle him.”

The witch falls silent. There is a distant look in her eyes as she observes the Princess and the more she stares, the more the younger woman feels dreadfully uncomfortable. She starts to feel something in the back of her mind, like a gentle abstract push.

“Ser Criston." she says suddenly, swallowing but keeping a collected mask. "The keys, please."

“Your Grace, Prince Aemond will not be ha—”

“I’ll deal with Prince Aemond.” She says, looking straight at the witch and the ghost of a superb smile hovers on her lips “I know how to handle him.”

The Knight slides the keys from his armor and hands them to the Princess. She is ready to free the witch’s wrists, but she stops, locking her eyes on Alys. “There is a carriage outside. And some guards who will do whatever Ser Criston will order them. Take it and go wherever you want, there’s even gold in the—"

“I told you, I don’t want—”

“I don’t care of what you want!” The Princess snaps, raising her voice, and the pushing dissolves. “You live to serve the flames? Fine. Do it elsewhere, far away from us.”

Alys shuts her parched mouth, and simply nods. “As you wish, Princess.”

She removes the shackles from her feet, and then from her hands, holding the chains between her fingers. Alys touches her hurting wrists, before tilting her head down in some kind of bow, or maybe a mocking gesture. The Princess cannot bring herself to care.

The witch makes her way past the younger woman but at last, she stops for a moment, leaning back her head of dark curls to say “I did touch him, just once. He put a knife to my throat.”

Vhagar likes to nestle on the burned blackened towers of Harrenhal, like some kind of dreadful reminder of the legacy of ruins and ashes Balerion the Dread has unleashed on this cursed land.

Aemond enters the castle walls with his circle of counselors and generals. They crowd on him like bees with honey and he knows why. He knows that most of the time they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about. They hang on his lips and jump like little good soldiers, jostling with one another in the hope of gaining something more when the war ends. A land, a title, one of them had even had the guts to offer a daughter to marry.

“I am not sure of what you are implying, my Lord.” He had said to the Lord with a dangerous black glint in his eye, as the fool thought it was wise to remind the Kinslayer that he and his wife had had no children yet. “Whether you are insulting me or my wife. I am sure of one thing, though. You will shut your hole before I take your tongue and feed it to my dragon.”

There were no more talks of unwed daughters between those walls.

“My Prince, if you allow me—” one of them says as they enter the Hall of the Hundred Hearths “We should give the lords who pledged for the Blacks more time to consider—”

“I gave them enough.” He says turning with a glare, looking even taller than he is, with his silver armor streaked with gold and the long green cloak. “They will pledge to my brother before dawn or I will bring dragonfire to their lands. Then we shall see where their loyalty lies while they burn to the crisp.”

They all shush and Aemond almost thanks the Gods for this brief blessed moment of peace. He ponders for a moment and then looks at a young soldier behind him.

“Summon the witch.” He orders “Bring her to me.”

He looks down to remove his riding gloves but out of the corner of his eye, he sees that the boy is still there.

“Uhm, my Prince, the witch is not here anymore.”

“What do you mean she’s not here?”

“S-she left, your Grace.”

The last word does not even leave his mouth the poor soldier feels a hand around his neck and the Prince is easily lifting him from the ground as if made of feathers. “You let her flee?!” he rages with his eye blown wide.

“I-I did—not your Grace!” the boy manages to croak while he’s choking, legs kicking like a chicken in the butcher’s hands.

“He’s right. I did.” Her voice cuts through the air and Aemond turns his head in a blink, looking positively stunned to hear his wife, to see her there.

He lets the soldier boy go and stares at her on the threshold of the huge Hall. He blinks with disbelief, as if he’s finally able to see after days and nights spent in a cloud of fog. Something shifts inside him him—something that has been wandering ceaselessly day and night, lifting the weight from his shoulders, from his black heart. Not Harrenhal’s weight, not Alys’. A weight far darker, a curse far more dangerous.

“Out.” he orders the Lords “All of you.”

They obey at once, scattering down the Hall only to stop for a moment before the Princess, to pay their respect.

The doors close but she stays on the threshold. His eye roams on her figure, once and then twice. He has never seen her wearing such a simple dress, easy to disguise her noble roots, her royal ones. And even though the mere sight stokes almost three moons of ugly and burning desire, it only makes him angry. It only makes him ashamed.

“What in the name of the Seven are you doing here?”

She walks to him and without uttering a single word or even sparing a glance to him, she begins removing the heavy armor plates from his body.

“What are you doing?” he asks with deep wrinkles on his forehead.

“My duty as wife.” She replies sternly, holding his arm “Or did you forget you had one?” she looks at him and sees rage blazing behind his eye—rage and maybe a tinge of hurt.  

“Am I doing it right?” she asks removing the armor plate from his forearm “Was your witch friend better than me?”

The metal clatters on the ground as he grabs her arm, hard, pulling her close. “I asked you a question. We’re at war and you go strolling around the continent? Have you lost your mind?”

She tries to wriggle herself out of his iron grip, unsuccessfully as always. “How strange, that is a question I should ask you.”

“Enough.” He says grinding his teeth, digging his fingertips into her skin until her mouth twists with pain.

“Enough was two moons ago, Aemond. When you were supposed to come home, to your family, to me.”

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re at war, my dear wife. Things in war don’t go exactly as you planned them—”

“Oh spare me!” she cuts him off, freeing herself “Spare me the war talk, that’s all I’ve been hearing from you.”

“What did you expect exactly? Love letters?”

“I expected what I deserved. To know the truth. You have not mentioned her. Ever, not even once. Do you have the faintest idea of what I’ve been through all this time? Of all the dirt they have been spreading behind my back?”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says turning his back on her, as if he had not done that enough.

“No, you will.” She promises, circling him to look straight at him again. “They said you were so besotted with her to deny her leaving your chambers.”

“I don’t want to hear about it.” He says again, closing his eye for a moment.

“They said, and this was from the wretched mouth of your beloved brother, that you put a child in her womb since I was not able to give you an heir.”

“I don’t want to hear about it!” he shouts, and she knows she hit a nerve there, because he never shouts.

“Why? Does it make you ashamed? It should. I had to hear all of it. I had to endure it while you stayed here playing fortune teller with your witch whore.”

His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and raises his gaze to look at her, dead serious. “You know nothing about her powers. She saw many things, happened precisely as she predicted. I needed her. I needed her powers and you had no right to send her away.”

“You needed her?” she repeats, pale with utter disbelief. “You needed her for what? For her to tell you how good you’ll look wearing the Conqueror’s Crown? To feed you with fairy tales while we risk our lives staying in the capital, unprotected because Dreamfyre can’t fight and Tessarion is still in Oldtown. What if the Blacks decide to attack us now? They have a dozen of dragons, we have only Sunfyre.”

“The Blacks will not attack.”

“Did she tell you this? Did she see this in the flames?” she can’t fight back the contempt curling her lips “Are you listening to yourself? Flames and visions to win a war? You poor fool.”

“Watch your mouth, woman.” he seethes “You don’t talk to me like this.”

“Or what? Are you going to chain me up? I kept her chains, you know? I thought you’d like a token of your time with the witch.”

“Did you come here for this? To make a scene like some common girl who feels threatened by another woman?” his lips turn upwards, curling and twisting with ugly deprecation “What do you think you know about the war? What is your contribution while you lie around in a lavish castle waiting for me to come back and fuck you? I’ll tell you. None. You can’t even perform your duty to give me an heir. And you come here to lecture me?”

The wound is rotting from the inside and he’s pouring salt on it.

“I came here for my dignity. As a woman, I have nothing else. I came here for your mother, who I fear will go mad with worry just as your sister. And lastly, to tell you that I’m with child.”

Aemond stills completely, so much that she thinks the witch’s curse is hitting him right now, no matter how far she is, turning him into stone.

“But it seems utterly irrelevant to me right now. So, go. Hurry! You might still find her.”

She moves to leave the room and he does it at the same time, trying to reach her, to stop her, but she flinches as he tries to touch her, battling his hands away.

Aemond utters her name, softly, and it makes her stomach turn.

“I will leave at dawn.” She informs him with a blank face “I won’t disturb you and your precious war any further. Fret not, husband. I will stay in my lavish castle like the good soldier I am, waiting for you to come back and fuck me.”

This is place is not only cursed, but it is also so freezing cold that she wishes for one of those direwolf furs the Northerners use to wear as she sits before the hearth in what she assumed to be Aemond’s chambers. The room is large, even larger than the ones they share in the Red Keep, but it’s completely bare and almost ominous with its black walls that stink of ash and smoke.

A cursed place, fitting for a cursed woman.

She has been for quite some time. Because she chose to stay by his side, because she chose to love him.

“We could turn to a Septon. Annulments are rare but possible. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins.” Her father had said in a letter, in the aftermath of Lucerys’ death.

As if she could leave him, as if she could turn her back on him and marry another man.

As if he hadn’t left his mark on her.

She thought the Gods had cursed her for good, that was why, however much they tried, she couldn’t bear his child.

“A child is the highest of the blessings from the Gods.” Her mother had said during one of her last visits to the capital “How can they bless your union with a man so accursed?”

And yet.

She is impatiently waiting for the sun to set. Even if her limbs have never been so heavy, as much as her heart, she finds no reason to stay here, not when she can’t stand even the sight of him. But of course, how can there be peace in such a cursed place?

She hears the door opening. She knows his gait. She wished to hear it for two moons as she lied alone in their bed.

She hears him approach until he is beside her, but she does not look at him. She only sees his arm holding out a small tray.

“Eat.” An order, not an invitation.

She doesn’t even bother to look at the food, keeping her cold gaze on the fire. “I’m afraid I lost my appetite, dear husband. You can thank yourself for that.”

She can feel his eye piercing, burning her skin, the air coming from his nose short and harsh.

“Eat or I’ll feed you myself.”

She doesn’t bother to even answer this time.

Aemond stares at her, waits for her to look at him, he needs for her to look at him. “Is it true?”

“What?”

“That you’re with child.”

“In my husband’s lovely words, I lie around all day so I guess I’m capable enough to notice if I miss my moonblood.”

He leaves the tray on the stone mantelpiece, noticing a pair of chains lying there, and then looks down at her.  “You will stay here with me.” Another order.

Another rejection. “I will not.”

“Yes, you will. You are not going anywhere, not in your condition.”

“I see. Now I’m worth something to you, am I not?” and finally she looks up “My duty is fulfilled, my womb is finally swollen. It’s a shame your witch left, we could have asked her to look in the flames and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Aemond lowers his shoulders and grabs her chin with the same cruelty he is used to brandish his sword, tightening her cheeks to prevent her from uttering another word. “I said enough.”

He watches as she tries to escape his grip, pushing his shoulders as her eyes grow more and more scornful, and he knows he deserves it. But that ugly thing breaks, snaps like a thin rope pulled too tight.

His mouth is on hers, fingers squeezing her cheeks to force her to take his kiss, which is not really a kiss, but more of an act of war, a relentless and rather quick siege, because she was already starving. She opens his mouth and this alone makes him whine with relief as his tongue slides between her teeth. Her hands grab his doublet collar, knuckles turning white and she angles her head, only to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood.

He winces as he pulls his head back and sees her licking her lips, a dead distant look in her eyes. But her hands move, gently, through his silver strands. "My words are but blunt knives on you. I must hurt you in the only way I can."

“I did not touch her.” He says like an oath “Ever.”

“I know you didn’t.” she reassures him, but her eyes stay distant, as if even being this close now, they are also miles and miles apart. “Maybe it would’ve been better if you had.”

“Did you want me to fuck her now?”

“I wanted you to need me, not her.”

His eye is on flame, rage and shame dancing together, but it’s not aimed at her. He finds that the only person on the receiving end is none other than himself.

Something dies in his eye, his shoulders slump and his head falls forward, hiding what no one would dare even think of seeing on the stern, cruel face of Aemond One Eye.

He kneels before her and lays his head on her belly, catching her off guard. She can't see his face, and yet she has it before her eyes, clear and indisputable as something carved into stone.

The surface has never been so frail. She doesn’t even need to scratch it, she only has to lift it.

No man is so accursed as the Kinslayer.

She had thought it true enough, but what about Aemond’s curse?

“I know you feel guilty.” She says, or rather whispers, as if she’s being blasphemous by accosting such a word to such a man. “I know you feel guilty for Jaehaerys. For Helaena.”

His answer is mute, but it’s the loudest confession she could get.

He fists the fabric of her gown between his hands, knuckles turning white on the verge of breaking. She feels him nestling further inside her, like a child, and she closes her eyes for a moment, placing a hand on her wound to stop the bleeding, and leans over him, sliding her hands on his back, softly but firmly, as if helping him to stay whole, as if preventing him from breaking into pieces.

Aemond didn’t believe in curses.

He did not regret, not even for a moment, the murder of Lucerys. He did not care that the Gods had turned their backs on him. They had done it a long time before. He did not care of how people called him, of how they would baptize him in the annals of his lineage.

He had started to care, to feel guilt, after he actually killed his kin.

For he had killed Jaehaerys, he had killed Helaena.

Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.

In his head, he heard that word with his mother’s voice, with Aegon’s, Helaena’s.

He found some kind of peace, of solace, only in his wife. But then the war was calling and he fled to Harrenhal. It was his duty, it was his way to try to make things better, to get revenge. 

He had taken Harrehanl back and he knew he should have come home. But then the witch, the very same who had forced a man to rip out his own tongue, had spoken to him, talking about visions and flames, of predictions that happened to be alarmingly accurate, of him sitting on the Iron Throne with the Conqueror’s Crown on his silver head.

And he saw an opportunity, however blurry, to set things right, as they should have been in the beginning. He saw a way to get the upper hand in this war. And furthermore, as much as he did not realize it, he had found a way to stay away from the Keep. He would rather dare with witchcraft than return home and hear Helaena's wails cutting through doors and walls, and through his heart.

But next to the guilt had come the shame, for he had turned his back on his wife, for he could imagine the filth their enemies and non would spread, like shit flowing in the sewers.

He had tried to confine her to the back of his mind, but she became heavier and heavier as the days passed, along with the scarce letters in which he never mentioned the Rivers bastard.

She, of course, had sensed it immediately.

“You can’t win this war if your mind is elsewhere.” She had said one night, on one of his visits to her room.

He always stayed on the threshold, arms laced behind and poorly disguised distrust stretching his features.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking head.”

“You need not worry, my Prince.” She retorted with a chilling smile “I can’t play with your head. It’s too heavy…and ugly. And this woman…oh, she’s eating you alive.”

The witch is gone now, and yet she is still there.

She lingers on the walls of his chambers like a ghost, she imposes a wall between him and his wife and perhaps neither of them is strong enough to climb it. So, for days they just circle one another like wounded animals.

The Princess is staying with him of course. He has forbidden her to leave his side and she has caved, on one condition though. She has given him three days to deal with the Riverlands and then they will go home, together, where they are needed, where the mighty dreadful Vhagar is needed.

The day before their departure, Aemond returns victorious from the Riverlands. He has gained the allegiance of the lords in a way Visenya Targaryen would be proud of.

He will never forget the Lords' faces draining of color, probably pissing themselves, as Vhagar roared a war chant in the sky, and tongues of fire brushed the lands as warning.

He enters the chambers quietly and sees her crouched on the floor as her hands dig into a drawer, pulling out papers that she carelessly drops to the ground. Aemond closes the door firmly, announcing his presence, and she looks at him for a single moment before sighing in defeat, closing the drawer.

“Looking for my love letters?” he teases, for the first time after days of loud silence.

“I was looking for ink, actually.” she says looking below a paper left on the table. “Besides…love letters from you? Ghastly.” 

He can’t fight back the smirk curling his mouth as she walks close to him and begins removing the armor. He looks at her face and she’s stern, almost rigid in her gestures, in the way she touches him, as if she despises doing it and yet she can’t help herself.

He doesn’t have a clue.

He doesn’t know that her stiffness has nothing to do with contempt. He doesn’t have a clue of how much she aches for him. Of how much she wants for him to take her, fast and rough, as he often used to do, because she can’t stand to be treated like some porcelain doll to be cocooned thanks to his child growing inside her belly. She wants to be more than that, she demands to be his wife again.

“Have you eaten?” he asks her, gently, and she wants to break something.

She can’t stand it anymore. She can’t stand all the questions.

Did you eat? Did you rest? Did you sleep?

“Is this how is going to be from now on?” she asks looking up “You acting as if you are my maid?”

He clenches his jaw and his face turns stern just like hers.

“First you accuse me to have forsaken you and now you don’t want my attention. Make peace with your mind, wife.”

“I want you to be my husband.” She says getting close to him until she smells dragon and ashes.

She wants to bathe in it. “I want to be your wife.”

Aemond’s eye lingers down on her throat, on her constricted chest, and his lips part. “You are.” He vows, locking his eye on her.

“Prove it.” She whispers tilting her head with a challenge dancing on her parted lips, hovering against his.

He is one breath away from swallowing her whole but he stops, melding their breaths in one, and he grins. “Are you going to bite me again?”

“As if you didn’t like that.”

A moment later his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her lip, her neck. His hands are everywhere, frantic and needy. She can feel he’s restraining from holding her too tight, but she wants, no, she needs more. She wants him in her bones.

They move without logic, clinging to each other, trying to assert dominance on one another. He grabs her wrists and forces her down on the chaise beside the hearth. He is looking at her in the same old way, as if he’s blind to anything else. She aches so much for him that she’s breathing hard, the word please climbs her throat, slides on her tongue, but she will not beg for him.

In all truth, she doesn’t have to.

He kneels on the ground like a pious man at the altar, and she hikes up her skirts, spreading her legs to place them on his shoulders, heels pressing on his back to bring him close.

“You know what you want, don’t you?” He teases with a feral grin.

“Curse you and your hideous smirk.” She says sliding on the chair to bring her apex close to his overly talkative mouth.

“You love my smirk.” He says grabbing her thighs to secure them around his face. “Besides, I’m already cursed.” He leaves a red mark biting on the soft skin of her thigh, looking straight at her and how she startles, whining in half pain half pleasure.

She catches a glimpse of the sapphire glinting between her thighs before her eyes fall shut and she moans unnaturally loud as he licks a stripe along her wet folds and up to her apex.

She is trembling with anticipation, with arousal that pools from her, glistening his mouth and nose. Her hips begin bucking against him and he moans contentedly as he buries his tongue inside her, lapping and tasting like a starved beast.

Her breath grows shorter and shorter for how close she is already, so much that he stops to look at her with a spiteful grin. “Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“Shut up.” She whispers hoarsely and pulls herself up just enough to grab his head, pulling his hair to force him to take where he left off. Her hips are rocking on their own against his face, nails scratching his scalp harder and harder as she comes undone in his mouth, while he hums with pleasure, drinking of all her. Eye fixed on her as he watches her throw her head back, spasming and trembling with a loud moan.

Her back hits the back of the chaise as she catches her breath and looks at the black ceiling in a moment of pure bliss. Two moons of anguish are but a distant memory, her mind is foggy, she doesn’t even remember the face of the witch.

He dismantles her legs from his neck and she looks down at him, cheeks red, watching as he climbs on her, unbuckling his belt.

“No.” she says, and she stops his hands. “Do you think I would make it so easy for you?”

Aemond looks at her, half puzzled half curious, and then she pushes him down, overturning their positions so now she’s sitting on his lap, feeling all of his hard length against her.

“It’s my turn to prove it.” She says raising an arm that goes on the mantelpiece behind them.

“Prove what?”

“That you’re my mine.” She promises, and Aemond hears the distinct sound of metal clinking.

She lowers her arm and he sees a pair of chains between her fingers. He is bold enough to smirk at her. “I thought you were the one who wished to be chained.”

“I’m not the one in need of a lesson.”

She grabs his wrist but he easily pulls away. “What if I don’t want to?” but there’s an intriguing glint in his eye, on the edges of his arched mouth.

“Then who will take care of you?” she asks with fake innocence, grinding on his cock, and she smiles as the air comes out of his mouth in a hiss. “Are you sure your hand will suffice?”

He looks at her with challenge, breathing slowly through his mouth, and he caves.

“Chain me.”

She smiles darkly and grabs his wrists, fastening the chains and then locking them to the sides of the chair. She stands and grabs his legs, sliding his back further down.

She notices his eyebrow rising and she looks at him. "I want you to be comfortable. I'm afraid this will not end so soon."

He swallows with anticipation and watches her as she slowly climbs back on top of him and begins to unbutton his doublet., pushing the fabric aside to reveal his diaphanous pale chest and her hand slides over it, over his ribs, stomach, and navel, halting his breath.

Her lips hover against his, swallowing his shallow breath, but suddenly her head dips down, leaving a trail of little heated kisses on his neck, on the planes of his chest.

He watches as she does that, feeling her lips like burning embers marking his skin. Her eyes lock on him and she opens her mouth engulfing one of his nipples, circling her tongue around it. He tilts his head back, lips parting to let a puff of scorching air out, and then she's grazing her teeth over the soft pink skin.

The chains metal clink as he winces.

She grins pulling herself up and slides a bit down his legs with her bottom, so she has open room to his belt. She begins unbuckling it, looking at him, watching the glare he’s giving her.

“I can’t tell whether you want to kill me or fuck me.”

“I need you to fucking do something.”

“Like what?” she asks, palming his cock through the fabric “Tell me, husband. I may grant your wish.”

He rocks his hips in one slow movement, trying to feel every inch of her hand, but it’s a faint touch that only makes him ache for more. “Move, grind on me.” His voice is imperative as always, but his tone is different—all heated and husky.

She frees him of the constricting belt and breeches and lays on him, releasing a blissful sigh when she feels the hot hard flesh colliding perfectly against her core. The chains clink again as he tries to move and she smiles, caging his snatched waist between her legs.

Aemond is panting quietly, trying to get a grip on his own body but he finds it’s a useless fight when he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt.

But then his wife seems in favour of granting him some mercy. She starts grinding on him and his lips part some more, panting loudly this time, as he feels, and hears, the beautiful obscene sounds her wet flesh is making rubbing on him.

“Lift up your skirts. Let me see.”

She stops grinding and he almost whines with annoyance, moving his chained wrists in a useless attempt to grab her waist and force her to move again.

“I don’t like that tone, husband.” She says, and her voice is husky as well, her breath labored “Ask nicely.”

Aemond is silently starting to regret this whole thing. Patience was never one of his virtues, if he even has virtues. He’s completely at her mercy and cannot do anything but comply.

“Please. Lift your fucking skirts and let me see.”

“Hmm.” She hums smiling. “Better.”

Her skirts turn into a bundle of fabric around her waist and he dips his chin, looking straight at their flesh as she resumes her torture.

“Fuck” he utters, his eye growing heavy but he keeps looking, and he doesn’t have a clue whether it’s the rubbing or the mere sight of her coating his cock that draws a moan out of his throat.

“Do you see how I much I’ve missed you?” she asks hoarsely, grinding more and more firmly.

His head hits the back of the chair as he keeps panting and rocking his hips against her, lifting his waist as if desperately trying to slide inside her.

“I touched myself every morning. I woke up all wet and aching for you. And where were you? Here, plotting with your witch.”

“Enough of that fucking witch.” he croaks, a sheen of sweat is ghosting on his forehead. “Faster.”

She does the opposite. She stops altogether. And this time, he can’t do nothing to muffle the whimper gushing out of his trembling mouth.

The Princess tilts her head, savoring each moment, and soon his piercing glare comes back even sharper. “Once I’m free of these fucking chains, I’m going to fuck you senseless till morning.”

“Unless you are still chained to this chair in the morning.”

He watches as her hands hover on his thighs, a feather touch that drives him mad, that makes his hips buck uselessly. His lips twist, swallowing a plead his pride won’t allow him to let go.

But she hears it nonetheless, in the way his fingers flex and twist, in his chest raising fastly. It may suffice, but it doesn’t.

“Stubborn, are we?” she teases, just like her hands, barely touching down his navel. “Your witch got it right. She said you are too stubborn, that’s why she couldn’t play with your head. She couldn’t handle you.” her fingertips finally dip down and she can see the silent plead in his eye.

“I can, though.” her palm brushes the tip and he whimpers, again.

“Please…” he whispers impossibly low, too low for her liking.

“Louder, my love.”

His mouth twists again but the need, the ache is so heavy that it burns out all the pride numbing his tongue. 

“Please…” he begs freely “Please, touch me.”

A groan rolls out of him as she finally grabs it, squeezing softly before starting a slow rhythm up and down. He pants loudly, hips moving on their own as he tries to fuck her hand with a steadier pace. “Don’t rush it.” she scolds him, placing a firm hand on his waist to stop his frantic movements.

“I can’t take it…let me come…”

“Already? Gods, you must have missed me terribly.”

“You’re cursed, woman.”

“Takes one to know one. A curse for a curse.”

She looks at him, hair all ruffled and sweaty on his forehead, a painful pleading expression twisting his sharp features and she smiles victorious. “I have half a mind to leave you like this.” She says and for a moment, he dreads she’s being serious.

“Luckily for you, I’m just as greedy as you are.”

In a swift moment she nestles between his legs and he’s moaning loudly before he even has time to register anything, except her lips locking around his tip, sucking so harshly he thinks she’s going to utterly drain him.

She starts a steady pace, just as he likes it, taking all of him, down to the base untili it hits the back of her throat. The chains clink and clink against the chair as he twists his wrists, bucking his hips harshly to fuck her mouth as deeper as he can, enthralled by the lewd sounds she’s making.

“Gods, yes…” he moans watching carefully as he slips in and out of her “Yes…just like that, just a little more…”

She feels him tense inside her mouth, she feels him tense all over and she knows he’s dangerously close. She stops for a moment, licking her lips and looks at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break the rule.”

Aemond groans with frustration, not having the faintest idea of what she’s talking about. He isn’t even sure he remembers his own name. He is just blood boiling and bones so tense they’re close to snap.

“What was it again?” she asks “Ah, yes. My seed belongs in your cunt.” She leaves a trail of soft kisses on his hard flesh and he whimpers once more. “My ever-romantic husband.”

“Fuck the rule, you’re driving me mad. Let me come.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please.” He begs “Please let me come in your mouth.”

The Princess is merciful enough to grant his wish. She engulfs him once more and he moans loudly for how sensitive he is. She picks up the pace and pride washes over her, pooling between her legs, as she sees him writhing beneath her, moaning with his mouth open, eye closed shut and the chains clink like a frantic bell while he twists his scratched red wrists.

He curses and mumbles nonsense under his breath until he stills completely letting out a long and loud grunt, spilling abundantly inside her mouth. She swallows to the last drop, gently sucking the pulsing tip.

The chains are finally still and silent. He’s breathing hard and short with his head thrown back, staring at the ceiling without seeing anything.

That is until he winces, feeling her hand on his sensitive skin. He raises his head to look at her, almost puzzled. She smiles slyly, moving her hand up and down. “Did you think it was over?”

If he did not feel so spent, he would be utterly thrilled and definitely flattered.

“Seven Hells, woman, give me a bre—” words die on his tongue wiped out by a hoarse gasp as she takes him in her mouth again. But this time, she sucks so slowly that Aemond actually whines in pain. And she looks straight at him, while her head bobs, relishing every moment, watching as he comes undone beneath her, babbling pleads, begging her to stop and a moment later to keep going. His voice is breaking, cracking as he whines and whimpers, poised between pain and pleasure.

Soon though, she hears more whines of pleasure than pain, as gets harder and harder in the hot haven of her mouth.

Suddenly she stops, and just stares, savoring the sight before her. The cruel Aemond One Eye, chained to a chair in a mess of sweat and sobs.

“Untie me…” he says, trying to make it sound like an order, but it’s a pale imitation of his usual tone. His words are slow, sluggish.

“You are not in charge here, my love.”

“Then quit the act and fuck me.”

Perhaps, if she wasn’t so equally desperate for him, if she wasn’t leaking between her thighs, she would have prolonged this torture, this excruciatingly sweet punishment. But she can’t take it anymore.

She climbs on him, and it takes her the least effort to let him slide inside her. He slips his back further down that chaise so that his hips are angled just enough to thrust into her, fast and steady.

“Oh Gods—yes!” she moans throwing her head back, frantically bouncing on him.

“D’you miss this?” he rasps, with a tinge of his usual infuriating confidence “Did you think of this when you touched yourself? Missed my cock inside you, hmm?”

She clamps a hand on his mouth to shush him and he bites her palm, thrusting even harder, making her whine loudly until her throat goes dry and her sight go white. They fall in a wild frenzy, utterly intoxicated with each other, leaving bites and marks all over, sealing one inside the other with a curse much more dangerous than any kind of witchcraft.  

They come together, as she clutches his head to her chest so tight that he can barely breathe. He rests his head on the chair, slowly catching his breath, and she nestles against him, still sank on him.

He moves his hands to touch her, wincing for his aching wrists.

“Untie me now, would you?” he asks softly on the crown of her head.

“I’m not sure.” She muses against his chest. “I’ve quite enjoyed having you at my mercy.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

She moves her head to look at him, a little smile starting to light up her face and he looks down at her lips, mirroring her.

“Besides, it’s your turn.”

She raises her eyebrows fighting back a smile. “Now?”

“Haven’t you heard? No man is so accursed as me.”  

PART III

[slowd1ving]

LAMENT OF OUROBOROS . 　⁺ MASTERLIST

"Forsaken is he who disregards the warnings of a wise man. Hark! gather round—for this is the ode of the seventh prince of Metis. Let this elegy be your lesson: a final cautionary tale of a cursed prince forgotten in even the annals of history. Hubris blinded seventh prince Veritas Ratio, and for that he paid a bitter price. Sit, bear witness to the truths spun by the Moirai—lest you too would like to partake in his tragic fate." • . * cursed prince ratio + alchemist m reader possibly my magnum opus (not just because I finally figured out how to do the gradient thing :3) rough design for minoan fashion ratio here map for key regions (very rough, done on mspaint but whatever) warnings: video game violence, death? kind of? tyranny (are we surprised), male-coded reader (or at least the in-game avatar is)

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

✦ I. PRINCE OF ARROGANCE, PRIDE HAS A HEAVY PRICE;

→ Where it all begins. The venerable Sophos Nous leaves the prince with eight words, and the youth decides his destiny over them.

"His fate was sealed the moment he could taste choleric resentment on his tongue, followed shortly by spite: for spite is the desire to thwart. The path he instinctually set out on—to seek knowledge about the abuses of wisdom in the palace—was one that would only end in despair. "

✦ II. COME HITHER, CURSE WHERE HE LIES.

→ Where it all ends. The prince's scheme germinates, flourishes and withers as quietly as he.

"This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history. Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly:

A strangely warm vein of ore. 

Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince. 

Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai."

✦ III. OH, HOW TRAGIC IS HE;

→ You are luckier than he is. You are unluckier than he is. For though your end is painful and futile, there is no lingering in limbo for the rest of your eternity.

"It was an accident. 

“I’m sorry. Ah, shit—” Something wet splashed your cheek, followed by a fumbling hand that tried to brush it away but only succeeded in smearing the thin liquid across your face awkwardly. “Don’t— fuck, I’ll stay with you, alright?” 

Fingers wrapped around your own, flesh against bone. Pulsing life alongside a silent end. 

The last thing on your lips was an apology, in the form of a salty tear dripping from above."

✦ IV. WEEP FOR HIM, I BID OF THEE.

→ tba.

✦ V. HE IS THE MOST PITIFUL OF MEN;

→ tba.

✦ VI. FOR NONE SHED TEARS FOR THE FORSAKEN.

→ tba.

[armandisdaddy]

Eyes On Me- Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

This is based on a request from @grxce101-blog I hope I did your request Justice.

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, angst, swearing, and smut.

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

You were one of the youngest of Rhaenyra’s children, but you were her only daughter. In an attempt to build a stronger bond for your house, your grandsire Viserys offered your hand to his oldest son Aegon when you were but a babe. When the time came you and your family were well aware of what Prince Aegon was capable of and the menace he had become within the walls of The Red Keep and it was too late to turn back now.

You and queen were always very close, often seeing her lost innocence within you and promised her knight, Ser Criston Cole to you. And in turn he swore his life, soul, and sword to always protect you. You grew to be a beautiful young maiden inside and out. Regardless of your circumstances you were still so very kindhearted and soft spoken. But, you’d be lying if you said you enjoyed your life. You were either being ignored, by your husband or used like a common breeding whore. Fulfilling his desires and birthing his children, with no care for you wants or your desires.

You often read about love in the many book you found in the library and it left you wanting more. Ser Criston found himself watching you a lot more closer than he should and that wasn’t by much since he was sworn to protect your very life, but he was becoming emotionally attached. He would stand outside of your chambers on those God’s forsaken nights that Aegon decided he would have you and he could hear your pain and it broke his heart every time. It was something he could never get used to.

Such a beautiful soul such as you deserved to be cherished, spoiled, loved, and desired. He would find himself overcompensating for the lack of your husband’s affections. Giving you wildflowers or even just listening to you read. Soon enough he was falling for you, thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you, fantasizing about you giving yourself to him. He prided himself in how honorable he was, but you were making him question just how important that was to him.

Quickly growing tired of the same routine of being stuck in a loveless marriage you found yourself escaping into the pages of books, imagining yourself being loved and wanted like the maidens in the books. Until one day in search of new material, you stumbled upon an unmarked book. You flipped through a few pages and your pale cheeks flushed and you quickly closed it knowing a lady shouldn’t be reading this type of literature, but your curiosity would get the best of you.

You were like a thief in the night sneaking around like you had truly done something awful, holding the book close to your chest, quickly making your way to your chambers. Criston quickly following after you in confusion trying to understand why you were acting so strange.Tonight your husband was not taking refuge within his own home and you were thankful for it. You could get some privacy. Sitting by the light of fireplace you started skimming through the pages realizing this book was about sex.

You read about a man’s pleasure first, but what really got your attention was the places where they spoke of a woman’s pleasure and something they called an orgasm. “What in the Seven hells is an orgasm?” You spoke out loud, biting your lips at the description of what the act was truly supposed to be like. Not once had Aegon ever asked you did what he was doing to you feel good. Honestly, it did not it hurt most of the time and you normally laid limp while he…finished.

You were in awe and shock as well as anger. Was this really to be your life. A life with no love, not even the smallest thing pleasure. Your pig of a husband deprived you of such and in your anger and defiance you decided she find out what real pleasure was like. Opening your door with a slight crack you called to your knight. “Ser Criston…” He had been standing at your door steadfast looking straight ahead vigilant as always. Hearing your sweet voice call his name he turned slightly to see you there peeking through the door. “Yes, my Princess?” Your hand grabbed his and you tugged at his arm to signal him inside. He hesitated knowing all to well how this could end, but he saw those lilac eyes and that sweet pout of yours and he could not resist your command.

Stepping inside he stood awkwardly and you too never having another man other than your husband alone with you in your room. The two of you sat in silence, Ser Criston clearing his throat to break it before speaking. “What do you need of me, Princess?” You pick up the book you looked puzzled and opened your mouth, but hesitated slightly. “Ser Criston do you know what an orgasm for a woman is?” Red flushing to your cheeks, he almost laughed at how innocent you were. Your eyes wide with curiosity…oh he could teach so many things, but it was not his place. “Y/N, that is not my place to tell you.” He spoke in a sweet tone looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. You put the book down and twiddled with your fingers dancing around the question you wished to ask.

He watched you closely watching the way you debated with yourself. Should you say it, what if he agreed, or worse what if you got caught. Was this worth it…mustering up the courage you stepped toward him and it spilled out. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can show me. Right?” Eyes of lavender searched for an answer in those sweet brown eyes of his and his breath hitched within his chest. “Princess, I cannot do what it is you ask of me.” The thoughts that already dwell in the back of his mind coming to the surface causing his member to harden.

Going out on a limb you grab his hands wrapping them around your tiny waist and pull him in closer. “Please…” You whisper, looking into his eyes knowing that it could only be him to show her. “I know you hear what happens here in this room and it is not what I want for the rest of my life. I want to know what it feels like to be pleased and not used. Please, Criston even if it’s just once. I promise I will not ask this of you again.”

He had thought of you having you just like this, your body in his hands. You wanting him, needing him so. It was all too much to handle with his cock pressing against his breeches and armor. He was in agony what was he to do, the was treason not to mention you’d be put to death if anyone found out, he could not risk your life. It meant too much to him, but this was a once in a lifetime experience. He might not ever get the chance again.

Your hands cupped his face and his gaze found his way back to you. Leaning forward stopping just as your lips touched he broke the barrier and pressed his lips to yours kissing you feverishly. Pulling you in he almost lifted you off the ground as you moaned into each others mouths. Was this what lust and desire felt like. A warm between your legs began to radiate and the feeling of your slick pooling within your undergarments confirmed it. Ser Criston pulled away to remove the annoying armor that kept him from feeling you entirely and you helped quietly placing it aside.

After he was undressed your eyes scanned over his body. He was beautiful and his cock…well let just say you were in for a hell of a ride. He turned your back to him carefully unlacing the corset of your dress letting the garment pool at your feet. He left you in your chemise and took in how angelic you looked. His strong arms picking you up and carrying you to the bed where he laid you down ever so gently .

His hand resting on either side of your head while he hovered over you while his lips crashed into yours again. It felt like he had sucked all the air from your lungs but you wanted more, he pulled the layer of fabric up from your legs pulling it over your head, throwing it aside, finally seeing the body he dreamt about every single night. “You are breath taking…” Calloused hands ran over your soft skin fingers rolling and pinching your hardened nipples causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

He smiled at how you reacted leaning forward to take the stiff pink flesh between his lips slowly sucking. His left arm curled around you to hold you close while his free hand ran down your stomach until his finger spread open your sticky mound. He groaned in excitement feeling your slick coating his fingers already and he hadn’t even placed them inside yet. Two fingers rubbing circles around the ball of nerves sending shocks of pleasure through you. You gasped and your body twitched as he laid next to you burying his face into your neck leaving sweet kisses along your collar bone.

“May I put my fingers inside, Y/N?” Unable to speak you grabbed his hand pushing it further and he smiled kissing your lips once more and one of his thick fingers entered you starving cunt. Your sounds of pleasure only aroused him more, his cock throbbing so much it was almost painful soon another finger followed and he growled and how tight you squeezed just his fingers he could only imagine how it would feel to bury his cock into you.

“Oh Gods…fuck..” He chuckled. “I never knew you could say something so naughty, Princess.” He teased curling his fingers to hit that spot that he knew would send her over the edge. Her head dropped back and her breathing quickened feeling pressure and pleasure building and intensifying within her stomach. “That’s it, my love let…it…go” You listened and releasing you slick coating his fingers he cooed in delight licking them cleaning savoring the taste. “ohh Criston…”Trailing kisses down your stomach, Ser Criston laid in between your legs, pushing them to your chest.

Your exposed cunny made him smile. You looked ethereal this way the light from the fire illuminated your skin and showing him the aftermath of your first orgasm. He licked the entirety of your cunt with hunger relishing the taste. “So…delicious.” He words dragged his desire to have you growing intensely. Your eyes closed and you looked away causing him smack your inner thigh. “Ah, ah, ah…eyes on me, Princess.” The sudden shock from the smack sent electricity through you and it turned you on more than ever before.

“You are a depraved little minx..so innocent, but so naughty.” He groaned sucking and lapping vigorously until he couldn’t hold himself anymore he needed to fill her with his cock. He was now on top of her his cock lined up at her soaking core . “Are you ready?” You looked into his eyes and nodded. Without another word he pushed into your needy heat moaned at how her tight walls squeezed him so. “oh fuck…Y/N..” His voice shuddered and he kissed your lips slowly rolling his hips into you.

Writhing underneath him you wrapped your arms around his body digging your nails into his back as he made love to you. The sounds of your love making carried and you now knew what it felt like to be wanted and desired. You could feel him fucking all of his love and devotion into you and you wanted more. He flipped over now with you on top of him.

You weren’t use to this new position but the way his cock filled your stomach made you understand how good this position was about to make you feel. Your hips rolled hesitantly his cock hitting the sponges flesh inside you over and over causing you to buck your hips wildly against him. The coil in you stomach tightened with each thrust. He was almost close as well grabbing you hips to slam up into. Pulling you in he kissed you lips quickly pounding up in to that pretty little cunt. The sounds of skin slapping and him stirring up those sticky insides of yours sent him over the edge and you quickly followed. Coming together the two of you didn’t even care that he had just spilled his seed inside of you.

In the glow of your orgasms he held you close and kissed your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. I will follow you to then ends of the realm.” You ran your fingers through his dark tresses kissing him once more before he stood up to get dressed and stand at your door once more. “And I love you..”

I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Let me know how you liked it and if it should be continued…

[nagishiro]

MANHWA ::

● — finished (completed), ○ — finished (ongoing), ◎ — reading, ♡ — favorite, □ — next to read, ◇ — meh, ★ — use

A

101 heroine

1 plus 1

act like you love me ○ #

a good day to be a dog

a transmigrator privilege ○ #

adelaide

a bittersweet couple

asmodian's contract

a witch's hopeless wish

a villain demands to be loved

a common story of a lady's new life

B

black winter

breed my dear enemy

beauty and the raven

C

cinderella wasn't me

crazy like a fox

couplebreaker

D

dr elise

daytime star ○ #36

E

F

freedom in dreams ○ #05

flirting with the villain's dad ○ #101

for better or worse

falling for the enemy

G

ginger and the cursed prince

I

H

how to survive as a maid in a horror game

i fell into a reverse harem game ○ #74

i become a fool when it comes to my daughter

i don't love you anymore ◎ #

into the light once again ◎ #

i got married to a villain

inso's law

i tamed the crazy marquis

i became the villain's trainer

i became the wife of the monstrous crown prince

i raised a black dragon

I became the tyrant translator

i choose the emperor ending

J K

L

lucia

lady baby

lady isabella's path to happiness ○ #2

leveling my husband to max

M

men of the harem ◎ #

miss not so sidekick

my reason to die ○ #25

monomania ○ #13

my daughter is the final boss

mystical

may the holy one come

N

novel's extra ◎

new year's taste

next door boyfriend

O

omniscient viewpoint

onsaemiro

P

pure love operation

please kill my husband ○ #11

please cry crown prince

pure villain

prayers of the vulgar

please don't come to the villainess's stationery store ○ #70

prince of myelyeong/mystic prince ○♡ #49

Q

R

really really divorced

roxana ○

remarried empress ○

return of the 8th class magician ◎ #

raising the enemy only brings trouble

regina rena: to the unforgiven ○♡ #41

S

secret lady #35

see you in my 19th life ◎ #

saving my sweetheart ○ #59

say ah the golden spoon is entering ○ #40

stealing the lady's heart □

secret love : night affair

solidarity lady ○ #34

second life of a trash princess

shadowless night

T

the count's uninvited guests ○

the villainess is a marionette ○ #s1

the villainess reverses the hourglass ○ #ss14

the real daughter is back ○ #25

the rabbit and the big bad leopard ○ #

talented baby squirrel ○ #21

the secret bedroom of the forsaken princess ○♡ #6

the broken melody

the prenuptial contract

the villainess is me

toyboy's charm

the way that knight lives as a lady

the reason why ophelia couldn't leave the dukes mansion

taming the lady

the most powerful characters in the world are obsessed with me

the lady needs a break ○ #20

the demonic contract

the male lead won't let me be

the rewards of marriage

the predator's fiancee

the fake princess' op bunny

the grand Duchess of the North was secretly a villainess

U

V

villains are destined to die #

W

what melvin left to them

writing my male lead's happily ever after

what it takes to be a villainess

X

Y

Z

light and shadow

marriage and sword

dear first love

the change of season

소꿉친구가 집착 남편이 되었다 / a childhood friend became an obsessive husband

[verumcordibus]

This was not how it was supposed to go. Magia would not deny that he had plans to murder his uncle without hesitation, he had yet to put such plans in action the King was clearly dead before him and suffered extreme ellectrocution. The problem was Magia had been caught.

“It was self defense!” He managed to make out through a few coughs, rubbing his throat that would no doubt be covered in bruises in in a day.

“Please...You have to believe me.”

Just minutes ago his uncle had tried to strangle him in the middle of the night, grumbling that he would rather have no heir at all than leave Magia the throne. Of course the red head had fought back hard as there were signs of a struggle around the room, and in the end he felt he had no choice but to harshly use magic against the old man.

[rylee-eucliffe]

👐+ What do you think of the Young Prince Ronan?

“Ah, Ronan is very nice. I owe him a lot to be honest..” Rylee smiled gently. “If it were for him I feel like I’d probably still be lost in this city, or taking any job I can just to make some money… So, in my opinion, he is a very kind person.”

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

Sanctuary

Pairing: Prince Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: hostage situation with a tinsey bit of Stockholm Syndrome but not really, canon is thrown completely out the window, Oberyn cause I mean its him, smutty times, female masturbation, oral (female receiving), p in v sex, slightly rough sex, unprotected sex (you know the drill at this point), injury but not overly detailed, implied torture but again nothing detailed, reader’s parents are assholes, fluffy goodness, reader being a badass, wedding day cuteness, naked at the end but duh

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: When Oberyn’s family takes reader hostage for political gain things don’t go the way reader thought they would.

Author’s Notes: Welp it’s been a minute and it really has for this man. This idea just came around when me and @clint-aww-no-barton​ were discussing Oberyn. I consider this to be before the events in GOT but I threw so much canon out of the window. Also very sorry for the amount of warnings its a long one. The longest fic I’ve ever written aside from my mini series! I hope I won't be gone so long again. Big thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton​ and I hope you all enjoy. I hope everyone I tagged was okay as well!

ao3 link 

  Your eyes scanned the room. It was bigger and better than yours back home, but of course it would be, you were in the presence of royalty. Rage was coursing through every inch of your body making you tremble slightly. You felt bare even when fully clothed without your knife on your thigh, your security. You wanted to stab every person in this gods forsaken place and right now, truthfully, your parents. It was their fault you were in this situation. If they had just done as they were told…

  A knock made you jump and spin around. You didn’t bother answering out loud or walking to the door, just took a few steps back. Yes you were angry but there was also that small part of you that cowered in the corner scared. You tried to pull yourself together because you knew nothing would happen to you here. You were a hostage meant to be kept alive, not a prisoner set for execution.

  “I hope you are decent princess.”

  Prince Oberyn’s voice echoed through the room before he glided in. The man wore is usual golden robe, a beautiful color on such a man. He was handsome, you could never deny that. You had considered him somewhat of a friend. You had dined with him, talked with him, drank with him and hell even thought of joining one of his many “parties” he threw. Right now he was in the list of stab-able people. You knew he could feel the anger radiating off you. His smile faltered as he entered the room, and he turned to look at his guards telling them to leave the two of you. The door shut and you fisted your hands tightly your nails were digging into your palms.

  “Calm down now killer, you know you are safe here,” he spoke as he walked around the room looking it over. “I hope the room is to your satisfaction?”

  “It’s fine,” your words came out clipped.

  “Come now Princess, it’s me.”

  “I realize it’s you but you are also keeping me here as a fucking hostage Oberyn. How am I suppose to feel?” This time everything came out between clinched teeth.

  “This is not a punishment and you know that. Enjoy it. You have no duties here, no boring dinners or meetings. Sleep, take long baths, visit the library and read a few books, paint do whatever you want.”

  “So I can leave this room?”

  “With supervision. Yes you may.”

  “Oh yes, that’s real freedom,” you rolled your eyes.

  He stepped closer, watching you, before his hands reached out to grab at yours. You stepped back, slinging him off in anger, but he was the Red Viper. He was quick and strong, much more than you. His hands wrapped around your wrists bringing them up.

  “Unclench your fist, you’re hurting yourself.”

  His grip tightened just enough to make his point clear and you did as he said.

  “There’s a good girl,” his voice was a whisper, and it sent something different through you.

  You shook the feeling off glaring up at him. You could feel the tears dancing in your eyes in anger, that scared version of you fighting to show herself. You faltered and relaxed in his grasp. He lowered his arms slowly and as he did you felt a tear escape. You looked away trying to hide this part of you, the weakness.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he spoke bringing your face back to him wiping away the tear.

  You gave him a nod, his hands still hadn’t left your face.

  “What happens now?” You swallowed hard, speaking after a few moments of silence.

  “We wait for your parents to cease their plotting and rebellion.”

  You let out a bitter laugh.

  “Good luck with that. They may be willing to give me up to you permanently if it means they get what they want.”

  “Then I’ll just make you as my bride and one day a queen sitting next to me. That will ruin their day,” Oberyn smirked as he let you go, finally.

  You flushed slightly, the idea sending a shiver through you. Would it really be the worse thing to happen to you? Oberyn was kind to you and you knew he would give you a better life than the one you had back home. You watched him as he sat in a chair, lounging in it. You looked away from him as all sorts of thoughts rushed through your mind. How badly you wanted to straddle him, let him take you.

  “It wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to you,” he spoke a smirk clear in his voice.

  “No. It would probably be the best case scenario,” you glanced at him before sitting in a chair across from him.

  His eyes slid down you and then back up to meet your gaze, his eyebrows raising.

  “You’re telling me you would be my bride?”

  “I would.”

  It was simple really. You didn’t think he would really do it. His parents would probably lose it. But Oberyn never really did anything anyone else told him, unless it suited him. His eyes stayed on you, his hand rubbing at his lips. He was battling with himself and when he stood you knew which side had won.

  “You’ll have guards stationed outside at all times. You can choose to come to eat in the dining hall or have it sent here. If you need anything ring for a maid.”

  “Why can’t I just ring for you?” Your nerves were obvious in your voice as you stood.

  “I’m about to be away for a few days but I’ll be back. I promise you are still safe. I’ll behead anyone who tries to harm you,” his hand came up to your cheek and his thumb rubbed idly at the skin there.

  He dropped his hand and looked you over once more. You simply nodded your head and watched as he walked out of the door leaving you alone once again.

  The weeks inched by so slowly it was starting to drive you mad. You had exhausted pretty much everything you could do, and now you sat in bed closing yet another finished book. You let out a sigh your head falling to the headboard behind you. You could feel a restless energy creeping up on you and you closed your eyes for a moment trying to will sleep to your aid. It wasn’t going to work.

  You wouldn’t dare admit it out loud but you missed Oberyn. He had left for almost a week before he returned for only a few days and was gone again. The few days he had been home he spent every moment he could with you. You walked the grounds with him, marveling at the beauty around his home. He had sat and watched you paint as the sun set. You had let your anger subside and basked in the fact that you had no one to answer to here. You could finally just be.

  Another sigh fell from your lips and you turned your head, looking around the room for anything to do. It was late and most of the palace was far into their dreams. You sat your book aside and glanced at your lit candle. You settled back in bed not yet ready to darken the room. Your mind started to wonder to the Prince. You slowly slipped from the night gown you wore and your hand wandered. You let your eyes flutter closed and your mouth slightly parted as you touched your core. You imagined it was him hovering over you, using those talented fingers, that mouth all over you. It sent you reeling and panting in a matter of moments. Your other hand clutched at the sheets under you. You never heard the door open…

  “Well what a sight to see.”

  His voice pulled you out of your daydream. Your eyes flew open, you moved so quickly you were dizzy when you sat up, clutching a blanket over your bare form.

  “Oh please, don’t let me stop you Princess. You were putting on quite a show,” a smirk played across his features.

  Your face heated and you hide it in your hands in shame. You felt the bed dip and his hand gripped your wrist pulling your hand away before he touched your chin.

  “There is nothing to be ashamed of Princess,” his words had darkened and it made you flutter.

  You couldn’t find your words. Your mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. It only made Oberyn chuckle.

  “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

  “I…I was thinking about…you.”

  Your words were a whisper full of nerves.

  “Oh is that so? I would love to hear the details.”

  “I think you know the details Oberyn.”

  You spoke out of slight frustration and embarrassment but it only made a look of amusement cross over his face. He stood and you watched him as he found a seat on the bed. His hand came up to the one clutching your blanket.

  “Please let me see you.”

  You thought it all over for a moment. This would change things between the two of you, but wasn’t that what you wanted this whole time? You let the blanket fall away exposing yourself to him. You didn’t watch him but you could feel his eyes rake over you.

  “You are extraordinary.”

  “Thank you.”

  Simple hushed whispers between soon to be lovers. Your eyes locked with his and you realized you were trembling.

  “Will you have me Princess? Will you allow me to make you feel incredible?”

  “Please Oberyn,” a simple plea but it was all it took.

  His lips crashed against yours and he was hovering over you in seconds. It was the most intoxicating thing you had ever experienced. The entire world fell away, no one left but you and him. Your arms went around his neck, fingers threading through his dark locks. One hand kept him above you the other started to trail down. It ghosted over your skin rising goosebumps as it went. He stopped at your breast, pulling away from your lips to let them follow the same path. He stopped and took you in, a shy smile on your lips before he pulled a moan from you. His mouth took a nipple, licking and then biting, pulling away until it fell from his mouth hardened. You gasped and your grip in his hair became a vice. He treated the other the same, before he slid further down.

  He stopped just at your navel peering up at you from under dark eyelashes. His lips teased there before they moved away completely and his fingers found where you needed him most. He slid a single digit from your already dripping entrance to your clit, circling the bundle of nerves and pulling a loud moan from you. He watched your every expression and move your body made, which only made you wetter. You were just about to start begging, when he settled between your legs and started his feast. His mouth skillfully took you in like you were the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. Your fingers grabbed at his hair, while your eyes fluttered shut and head threw back. Your back arched and he gripped at you like only a viper could to keep you from running away. You had never had a man do this to you and it sent you tumbling over the edge in seconds without a warning.

  “My my Princess thank you for that,” Oberyn smirked as he peppered your thighs with kisses.

  “Please tell me there’s more,” you panted still desperate to feel him buried in you.

  “So needy and desperate Princess. Lucky for you I’m not finished yet,” he smirked as he crawled over you like an animal about to consume its prey.

  His lips moved back to yours and you moaned against them tasting yourself there. You melted into the sheets but your hands quickly went to work to rid him of the robe he still wore.

  “I want this damn thing off,” you mumbled and he chuckled as he helped, letting it fall to the floor.

  You couldn’t help the gasp when you noted he was completely naked underneath, so like him. His lips found yours once again and he didn’t waste much more time before slowly entering you. He parted to let out a groan, your own noises falling from your mouth at how complete he made you feel. He settled for just a moment before a frantic nod of your head signaled to him to start moving. His thrusts were agonizing but so delicious, feeling every last inch of him inside you. He picked up his speed but stayed gentle. It shocked you that he wasn’t more of a rough lover, but you wouldn’t have cared how he wanted to take you, so long as he did.

  You lost yourself in him completely and you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment till you took your last breath. You clung to him, desperate to keep him close and his lips found purchase on whatever skin he could reach, marking you as his own. You could feel yourself inching closer and closer.

  “Oberyn,” his name fell from your lips like a prayer and you tipped over the edge.

  Your pussy gripped at him and caused him to groan and follow suit emptying inside of you. He let out a groan, his head falling to your shoulder. You both panted, your fingers tangled in his hair.

  “That was…”

  “Incredible?” He chuckled as he peppered kisses up your neck to your mouth leaving several short but sweet kisses.

  “I’m not sure if that’s the word. It was well past that,” you panted with a smile.

  “I must agree Princess.”

  One last kiss to your forehead before he moved, pulling out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss of him.

  “Don’t fear Princess, that will not be the last time,” he pulled you to him and you curled into him.

  Soon the darkness of night over took the room and you slipped into sweet dreams of the Prince that held you in his arms.

  The morning light flooded your room, pulling you from the sweet arms of sleep. Your eyes fluttered open with the realization you were alone. You frowned at the thought, but then a smile tugged at your lips, as you took in the flowers and note that sat on the pillow Oberyn had rested on. You sat up and scanned over the note. He had gotten called away on some duty but promised he would be back soon. You lifted the flowers to your nose and smiled. You were in full bliss.

  You took your time with a bath, before dressing in a gown you found that matched Oberyn’s usual colors, a small statement. You sat at the vanity and braided your hair. You had requested that you didn’t have anyone come in and help you with dressing and such, seeing no point in it. You looked yourself over before leaving the room.

  You decided on a stroll in the gardens after you finished breakfast. Some fresh air was most definitely needed. You took your time weaving through the paths before finding yourself in a small open space. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face if you wanted to. You strolled a little further, still not getting too far away from the grounds, just in sight of guards and gardeners surely ordered to keep an eye on you, even with Oberyn’s gifted freedom.

  You heard it seconds before it hit you. A piercing jolt of pain shot through your shoulder, down your arm and up into your neck. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground not a sound falling from you. Your head turned and you were met with an arrow, one you knew. The tears filled your eyes not only of pain but with knowing. You let out a scream for help and guards were running to your aid.

  “Someone get Prince Oberyn now!” One guard shouted right before you knew no more.

  You fought to open your eyes. You felt the pain all through your body now. Your head pounded and breathe hard to find. You looked over weakly, seeing that you were back in your room. Oberyn was pacing, anger radiating all around him. A knock came to the door which he quickly answered.

  “We have him in the dungeons your highness.”

  “Good. Keep him there, no food just water. Just keep him alive,” Oberyn’s words came out in a bite.

  Whoever it was gave him an answer and then was gone, doors shutting gently behind him.

  “Oberyn,” your voice was broken but it managed to grab his attention.

  He was by your side in an instant.

  “How do you feel?” His hand petted at your hair, softly his eyes searching your face.

  “Like I got shot with an arrow.”

  “Not just any arrow…it was laced with poison.”

  “Oh that explains a lot…”

  Your words trailed off fear filling you.

  “Don’t worry you are going to be okay.”

  “They have him?”

  You could feel the tears dancing in your eyes and not even from the pain you felt but with the ugly truth that sat on the tip of your tongue.

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  You only gave him a simple nod before you broke. Oberyn took your hand and shushed you.

  “I recognized the fletching. My parents sent him. He was one of their close guards.”

  It shattered your heart to speak the words. To know they wanted you dead, all to get what they wanted, to give Oberyn and his family no other choice.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think they would go this far,” Oberyn’s voice was gentle.

  “None of this is your fault,” your words were just a ghost.

  “He will suffer before we send him back to your parents, to make the message clear. Father has already ordered for it.”

  You nodded, not caring at all that this man you thought you knew would be tortured and sent back broken to your parents.

  “I don’t ever want to go back there,” you looked down looking at yours and Oberyn’s clasped hands.

  “You don’t have to. Mother has sent for your things. You’ll be staying here indefinitely.”

  You looked up at him in shock. Shock that his parents wanted to put so much effort into helping you. Again you gave him a nod. You could feel pain inching closer to unbearable by the seconds.

  “Rest Princess. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” his laid a gentle kiss to your forehead.

  You looked into his eyes for a moment, before sleep took you over once again. You prayed it would give you mercy and take away your pain for just a few hours.

  When you woke back up you could already tell the rest had done you some good. Oberyn sat in a chair next to you his eyes scanning over a book.

  “How you feel?”

  “A little better but hungry,” you gave him a soft smile.

  “Well let’s fix that.”

  Oberyn was up and his head was out the door in moments. He called for someone to bring you something to eat and was back by your side.

  “Oberyn I know you have things you need to do. It’s okay if you need to go.”

  “Not a chance Princess. I’m staying right here until you are better.”

  It made your heart flutter and a smile spread across your face at the thought that this man, who was dangerous and in line for the crown, was going to nurse you back to health.

  “Thank you Oberyn,” you took his hand and he gave yours a squeeze.

  A knock sounded on the door and he called for them to come in. His mother and father entered, followed by a servant with food. You felt yourself shrink just slightly. You had never been too sure how the King and Queen felt about you and it surprised you that they were here.

  “How are you feeling?” His mother spoke first.

  “Better. The pain is still there but it’s faded.”

  “Good. Your attacker has been taken care of and sent back to your parents. I would prepare yourself now, for their visit.” His father said, anger clear in his tone.

  “We shouldn’t even let them in the gates after what they tried to do to their own daughter.”

  Oberyn’s mother sat on the bed at your legs and took your other hand.

  “You are safe here. I have ordered more guards around the Palace and they are heavily stationed around your quarters. Even if your parents decide to show their faces, they will be lucky to get close to you.”

  The King gave you a reassuring nod with a small smile.

  “Thank you very much your Majesty I greatly appreciate the protection.”

  “Have you asked her yet my son?” The Queen gave Oberyn an eager look and your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, your own eyes falling on him.

  “No mother not yet. I wanted it to be a little more romantic than her lying in a bed still in pain.”

  You looked between them, a knowing between the three of them and you were lost out in the dark. Oberyn gave you a look of reassurance and a wink.

  “Well, we will leave you too. I will be sure to keep you updated son.”

  Oberyn’s father gave his shoulder a squeeze. He glanced at you with a nod which you returned. The Queen gave your hand another squeeze before she was up and following her husband out the door.

  “What was she talking about Oberyn?”

  “All in due time Princess. Now you need to eat.”

  You gave him a glare, but you trusted him. He sat you up with a tray over your lap. You wanted so badly to consume your food as quickly as you could, but you made yourself take it slow to keep from making yourself sick.

  “We need to get you up and walking around soon. You need to get your strength back.”

You gave him a nod.

  “Do you really think my parents will show their faces?” The thought almost made you stop dead.

  “I’m not sure. I would be ashamed to come around after making an attempt on your life.”

  “I’ve always known I wasn’t their favorite. They didn’t want to see me take the throne, they didn’t think I was worthy of it. My sister has been the one they have always favored. She’s prettier, smarter, better suited. She has a line of men waiting to marry her. I never even wanted the throne. I could have cared less but I never thought they would try to…” your voice broke and you swallowed trying not to break again.

  “Firstly I’ve met your sister, she’s too full of herself. It may make her a decent queen but her people will end up hating her. You on the other hand, will make an exceptional Queen someday. You are kind and compassionate, yet you know when things need to be done. I saw that fighter when you first got here, that makes you even better.”

  “Oberyn…” tears of a different sort threatened to fall now.

  “Plus if you rule by my side we will even each other out. When I get too angry you can bring me back down.”

  You smiled so big you swore it could break your face.

  “Thank you,” the words held all the emotions you felt in that moment.

  “It’s nothing but the truth.”

  You spent only a few more days in bed resting, eating and talking with Oberyn. You finally decided after a week on bed rest it was time to get yourself moving again. Oberyn had ran you a bath and gently washed you before helping you dress. You fixed your hair and took one step at a time. The pain of the wound had almost completely subsided, only hitting at night but the poison had done it’s just job damaging your body. You took a breath before Oberyn lead you out into the hallway, an entire company of guards tailing the two of you as you went.

  “It feels so good to be out of bed,” you gave him a smile, his arm around you in assistance.

  You knew where he was taking you before you got there. The gardens. You knew it was good for you to face where the attack happened but it still made you stomach turn. Everyone froze in the spot, blood still lightly stained the stones where you stood. It enraged something different in you and you knew that your parents would pay for this one way or another.

  “You okay?” Oberyn asked after a few moments of silence.

  “I’m perfect,” you looked at him and gave him a smile.

  He took both of your hands in his and faced you. The guards still stood around the two of you but at a reasonable distance. You looked at him with a puzzled expression, watching as he seemed to search for the right words.

  “I thought too hard about this moment. You like things simple so I’m going to make it simple. I wanted to give you a better memory in this spot. I wanted you to not think of it as a place of dread and near death. So, will you do me the honor of being my bride and sitting by my side until the day we take our last breaths?”

  You knew it was coming but all the same it sent a wave of pure happiness and love rushing through you.

  “Yes. Absolutely yes. I want nothing more,” you spoke as tears rolled down your cheeks and you pulled him to you, crashing your lips against his.

  He kissed you back with a need, pulling you close to him. You lost yourself in him as you seemed to always do when he kissed you, touched you. When you pulled away, lungs screaming for air you both let out a laugh of pure joy.

  “You are going to be the most beautiful bride in all of the world.”

  You blushed burying your face in his chest, letting out another excited laugh.

  “I can’t wait to be yours,” you breathed out.

  “Gods we better go tell my mother. If I waited one more day she was going to ask you herself.”

  You laughed along with him and the two of you walked back into the Palace hand in hand. His parents stood watching out of one of the grand windows. They didn’t even give either of you a chance to speak before they were hugging and congratulating you both. You felt every last bit of the pain and weariness that had lingered, leave you.

  “We must throw a ball in honor!” Oberyn’s mother declared.

  “Mother give her a few more days.”

  “No it’s perfectly fine Oberyn. I can handle a ball,” you looked between them with a wide smile.

  “I’ll start planning!”

  She turned in excitement and stopped dead in her tracks her face faltering. You all turned and you heart dropped. Your parents, along with a few guards, stood with looks of pure disgust plain on their faces.

  “We need to speak with our daughter alone,” were the only words from your mother.

  “I don’t think so. Not after you tried to kill her,” Oberyn stepped around in front of you.

  You knew you would have to face them eventually, might as well get it over with. Your hand gripped Oberyn’s arm, his attention turning to you.

  “It’s okay my love. They would be crazy to try anything with all of you around. I’ll be fine,” you looked up at him.

  His eyes met yours and he searched your face for a moment before giving a nod. He bent, planting a kiss on your forehead before he let you go. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you motioned for your parents to follow you into a near by room. You didn’t dare turn your back to them as the shut the door, your eyes darting between the two of them.

  “Why did you send someone to kill me? I knew how you felt about me but I never thought you would do that far.” The words came out with a snap and a yell.

  You were happy with that, pleased that you showed no sadness in what they had done to you.

  “We had to eliminate you before you spilled our plans to…them,” you mothers voice filled with disgust at the last word, her nose scrunching in agreement.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We know you overheard what we had planned to do. How we planned to destroy the entire Martell family and take over.”

  Your father smirked as if his plan would still work. You had one of your own. Something you had discussed with Oberyn and his family a few days after your attack. Fortunately for all of you, your parents fell right into it.

  “Well I hate to break this to the both of you, but that will never happen. Actually the two of you will have a lot of time to think in the dungeons of this palace,” you walked to the both of them your head held high. “You tried to kill me, tried to destroy me but all you did was show me where I belong and who I really am. I’m not your daughter. I’m the future bride of Oberyn Martell and future Queen. You may live to see that day and if you do my first order will be for your execution.”

  They both stood there, wide eyes full of fear and panic. You smirked and soon the doors around you opened. Oberyn came in behind you, striding close as he did the first day you met him. His parents, siblings and several other important people filled the room and you looked around at your real family.

  “Take them to the dungeons and send word for my sister. I want to know what she knows.”

You spoke every word with your head held high and you watched the guards drag them away as they begged you to reconsider.

  “I’m proud of you Princess,” Oberyn rubbed at your back, a smile clear in his voice and you turned to him his face faltering when he saw yours.

  “I shouldn’t feel guilty. I shouldn’t be upset but…” your voice broke and a few tears slipped.

  “They were your parents, it’s understandable.”

  He pulled you to him as everyone else filed out, and he held you as you let the emotions go, letting them wash over you and out of you. You were free of your old life and as you looked up at him, he dried your tears and you finally smiled.

  Your wedding day came quicker than you expected it, but between the dinners, the balls and everything else you were not shocked at how quickly time had passed. You didn’t bother with any of your family or the people from your previous life intruding on the day. Not even your sister, who never knew a thing of what your parents had planned, was allowed to come. It was the way you wanted it and the way you needed it to be. It was a beautiful ceremony and everything you ever hoped and dreamed it would be. The day came to a close and although some guests still lingered drunk or what have you, Oberyn and yourself had snuck out to get started with the wedding night.

  You had just stepped from the bath, your clothes long forgotten behind you, your lover, your husband waiting on the bed for you. He looked up at you like he always did, like it was the first time, like you personally hung the sun in the sky. You smiled a bright smile, one full of true happiness. You walked slowly to him before climbing onto the bed finally falling into his arms. The two of you made slow love and after you were finished and came back down to earth, eyes heavy, exhausted but happy. You turned onto your stomach resting your chin on his chest your fingers rubbing idly.

  “What is it my lover?” Oberyn’s words came out soft, his fingers in your hair.

  “I realized something earlier.”

  “What did you realize?”

  “When I was getting ready in, what was my quarters, I kept thinking to myself how this place use to be a prison. Then as I looked around I realized it had become my sanctuary.” You paused tears of happiness filling your eyes. “But as I stood there looking at you as we wed I realized it was never the place, it was never here that was my sanctuary. It was you. It doesn’t matter where I go you’ll always be the man who saved me and became my sanctuary.”

  His simply looked at you for a long moment his fingers chasing away the tears that fell. You leaned into his touch closing your eyes.

  “My love, my dove, my Princess you are my sanctuary. You saved me. You made me a happier man. I can conquer the world with you by my side. I will love you all the days I live and all the days after.”

  “I will love you all the days I live and all the days after,” you repeated his words and you matched each other’s smile.

  He pulled you to him for once last kiss before sleep finally took you over.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @fioccodineveautunnale @spookyold-saintjm @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @audreyshepbvrn @mack4676 @perropascal

[ourladylennon]

what are some fun beatle blogs you would suggest? can you tell us why you like them? thank you!

✨ you bet! fun beatles blogs coming right up! ✨

(this is by all means not an all-inclusive list and I’m 100% going to kick myself in the ass when I realize I forgot to mention a blog I love)

@cultofbeatle is a must follow because the content is 10/10 and you’re going to find all sorts of laughs there and that is fun in my book

@femininehygieneproducts will never disappoint, high key hilarious you don’t wanna miss

@pleasepleasedontbotherme is a fantastic mix of wholesome, adorable, fun & funny content whose tags are where it’s at

@mothernatures-sons & @princessleiaqueen who both make adorable art & graphics from time to time and both bring me back to life with their tags lbvs

@casafrass (who is currently on a hiatus) but her blog is chock-full of interesting anons, she’s hilarious, and her blog is lots of fun

@fingersfallingupwards just has great content on a constant roll and you will always find something new there

@theliverpoolsoldier who never ceases to make me laugh with their commentary + tags and is all around v relatable, super fun and ilt

@hide-your-bugs-away is also a smashing mix of funny, wholesome & relatable

@zilabee who was the very first blog i ever followed when i made this god forsaken tumblr because they have it all- good insight, hilarious tags, fab pics; you name it, it’s there

For some fantastic fan art blogs, check out: @mcpaulie-jess @macca-is-art @lenn0nat1ch @windowdust (god I know there are so many more I’m forgetting atm)

For some fantastic fic writers, check out: @unchaineddaisychain @purechocolade @smothermeinrelish @lennonsprincess @chut-je-dors (also several of the blogs already recommended above)

And for your mclennon needs, should you be a believer: definitely re-recommending smothermeinrelish, @mclennonwasreal @johns-prince 

belatedly adding some amazing gif & graphics makers: @mccartneyiii @sgt-paul @harrisonsblues @eppysboys @mrepstein @findsilver

and our resident book worms who have tons of interesting quotes: @epstein @maclen100 @longforyesterday 

Enjoy, lovely anon! <3

[aion-rsa]

HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

LeBron James might be out of the NBA playoffs, but he’s still angling to be a big part of the summer entertainment season. That’s because HBO Max’s list of new releases for July 2021 is highlighted by a very special sequel.

Space Jam: A New Legacy premieres on July 16. will find LeBron teaming up with the Looney Tunes in a Warner Bros. IP-extravaganza. Can ‘Bron and the Looney Tunes beat the Goon Squad before Warner Bros.’ server steals LeBron “Bronny” Jr.’s soul (or something)? Let’s hope so. The two other major WB releases this month, No Sudden Move and Tom and Jerry in New York, both come to HBO Max on July 1.

HBO Max is also bringing some fun TV shows to its stream this month. The long-awaited Gossip Girl revival premieres on July 8. That will be followed by Mike White’s satirical limited series The White Lotus on July 11. Ronan Farrow’s excellent book Catch and Kill gets a docuseries adaptation on July 12.

July 1 will see the arrival of library titles like Planet of the Apes, Reservoir Dogs, and Scream. Recent hit Judas and the Black Messiah comes to HBO Max on that date as well. It’s a good month for geek TV with the Doctor Who 2020 Christmas Special (July 1), Nancy Drew season 2 (July 3), and Batwoman season 2 (July 27) all coming home to their streaming residence.

HBO Max New Releases – July 2021

TBA FBOY Island, Max Original Season 1 Premiere Romeo Santos: King of Bachata, 2021 (HBO) Romeo Santos Utopia Live from MetLife Stadium, 2021 (HBO)

July 1 ¡Come! (aka Eat!), 2020 8 Mile, 2002 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven 2, 1996 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven, 1989 (HBO) Behind Enemy Lines, 1997 (HBO) Beneath the Planet of the Apes, 1970 (HBO) Bio-Dome, 1996 (HBO) Black Panthers, 1968 Blackhat, 2015 (HBO) Brubaker, 1980 (HBO) Cantinflas (HBO) Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, 1972 (Extended Version) (HBO) Cousins, 1989 (HBO) Dark Water, 2005 (HBO) Darkness Falls, 2003 (HBO) Demolition Man, 1993 Dirty Work, 1998 (HBO) Disturbia, 2007 (HBO) Doctor Who Holiday 2020 Special: Revolution of the Daleks, 2020 Duplex, 2003 (HBO) Escape from the Planet of the Apes, 1971 (HBO) Eve’s Bayou, 1997 Firestarter, 1984 (HBO) First, 2012 For Colored Girls, 2010 (HBO) For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada, 2012 (HBO) Full Bloom, Max Original Season 2 Finale Ghost in the Machine, 1993 (HBO) The Good Lie, 2014 (HBO) Gun Crazy, 1950 House on Haunted Hill, 1999 Identity Thief, 2013 (Extended Version) (HBO) Ira & Abby, 2007 (HBO) Joe Versus the Volcano, 1990 Judas and the Black Messiah, 2021 (HBO) Laws Of Attraction, 2004 (HBO) Lucky, 2017 (HBO) Maid in Manhattan, 2002 Married to the Mob, 1988 (HBO) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, 1997 Mississippi Burning, 1988 (HBO) Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mousehunt, 1997 (HBO) My Brother Luca (HBO) No Sudden Move Pleasantville, 1998 The Prince of Tides, 1991 Project X, 1987 (HBO) The Punisher, 2017 (HBO) Punisher: War Zone, 2008 (HBO) Rambo, 2008 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Reds, 1981 (HBO) Reservoir Dogs, 1992 (HBO) The Return of the Living Dead, 1985 (HBO) Return of the Living Dead III, 1993 (Extended Version) (HBO) Rounders, 1998 (HBO) Saturday Night Fever, 1977 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Scream, 1996 Scream 2, 1997 Scream 3, 2000 Semi-Tough, 1977 (HBO) The Sessions, 2012 (HBO) Set Up, 2012 (HBO) Snake Eyes, 1998 (HBO) Staying Alive, 1983 (HBO) Stuart Little, 1999 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 2003 Tom and Jerry in New York, Max Original Series Premiere Trick ‘R Treat, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Daddy’s Little Girls, 2007 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman, 2005 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All by Myself, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes To Jail, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Big Happy Family, 2011 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Family Reunion, 2006 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Too, 2010 (HBO) The Watcher, 2016 (HBO) The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep, 2007 (HBO) Westworld (Movie), 1973 White Chicks (Unrated & Uncut Version), 2004 The White Stadium, 1928 Won’t Back Down, 2012 (HBO) Zero Days, 2016 (HBO)

July 2 Lo Que Siento por Ti (aka What I Feel for You) (HBO)

July 3 Let Him Go, 2020 (HBO) Nancy Drew, Season 2

July 7 Dr. STONE, Seasons 1 and 2 (Subtitled) (Crunchyroll Collection) Shiva Baby, 2021 (HBO)

July 8 The Dog House: UK, Max Original Season 2 Premiere Gossip Girl, Max Original Series Premiere Human Capital, 2020 (HBO) The Hunt, 2020 (HBO) Looney Tunes Cartoons, Max Original Season 2 Premiere

July 9 Frankie Quinones: Superhomies (HBO)

July 11 The White Lotus, Limited Series Premiere (HBO)

July 12 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 15 Tom & Jerry, 2021 (HBO)

July 16 Betty, Season 2 Finale (HBO) Space Jam: A New Legacy, Warner Bros. Film Premiere, 2021  Un Disfraz Para Nicolas (aka A Costume for Nicolas) (HBO)

July 17 The Empty Man, 2020 (HBO)

July 18 100 Foot Wave, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 22 Through Our Eyes, Max Original Documentary Series Premiere

July 23 Corazon De Mezquite (aka Mezquite’s Heart) (HBO)

July 24 Freaky, 2020 (HBO)

July 26 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Finale (HBO)

July 27 Batwoman, Season 2 Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel (HBO)

July 30 Uno Para Todos (aka One for All) (HBO)

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Leaving HBO Max – July 2021  

July 3 The ABC’s Of Covid-19: A CNN/Sesame Street Town Hall for Kids and Parents Part 2, 2020

July 4 Annabelle, 2014 Annabelle Comes Home, 2019 (HBO) The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It, 2021 The Curse of La Llorona, 2019 The Nun, 2018

July 5 Lost And Delirious, 2001

July 8 Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015

July 10 It: Chapter 2, 2019 (HBO)

July 11 An Elephant’s Journey, 2018 In the Heights, 2021 Thanks for Sharing, 2013

July 15 Burlesque, 2010

July 17 The Notebook, 2004

July 26 The King’s Speech, 2010

July 31 17 Again, 2009 A Clockwork Orange, 1971 A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, 1985 A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 1988 A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, 1989 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 2010 Adam’s Rib, 1949 America’s Sweethearts, 2001 Anaconda, 1997 The Apparition, 2012 (HBO) Are We There Yet?, 2005 Argo, 2012 (Alternate Version) (HBO) AVP: Alien vs. Predator, 2004 (Alternate Version) (HBO) Badlands, 1973 Beau Brummel, 1954 The Benchwarmers, 2006 Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2, 2011 (HBO) Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta!, 2012 (HBO) Billy Madison, 1995 (HBO) The Book Of Eli, 2010 (HBO) Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992 Bringing Up Baby, 1938 The City of Lost Children, 1995 The Color Purple, 1985 The Comebacks, 2007 (Alternate Version) (HBO) The Conjuring 2, 2016 The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, 2002 (HBO) Don’t Let Go, 2019 (HBO) Downton Abbey, 2019 (HBO) El Angel (aka The Angel), 2018 (HBO) Eyes Wide Shut, 1999 Fool’s Gold, 2008 Fort Tilden, 2015 (HBO) The Four Feathers, 2002 (HBO) The Gay Divorcee, 1934 Get A Job, 2016 (HBO) The Goonies, 1985 Grand Canyon, 1991 (HBO) Hairspray, 1988 Happy Gilmore, 1996 (HBO) Hellboy Animated Collection, 2006, 2007 The Hurricane, 1999 (HBO) I Know What You Did Last Summer, 1997 Iniciales SG (aka Initials S.G.), 2019 (HBO) J. Edgar, 2011 Jackie Chan’s First Strike, 1997 Jacob’s Ladder, 1990 (HBO) Jeremiah Johnson, 1972 Keeper Of The Flame, 1943 Kill Bill: Vol. 1, 2003 (HBO) Kill Bill: Vol. 2, 2004 (HBO) Kung Fu Hustle, 2005 The Lego Ninjago Movie, 2014 Less Than Zero, 1987 (HBO) Life Stinks, 1991 (HBO) Lincoln, 2012 (HBO) Little Children, 2006 (HBO) Little Man Tate, 1991 (HBO) Lovely & Amazing, 2002 The Lucky One, 2012(HBO) The Madness of King George, 1994 (HBO) Marisol, 2019 (HBO) Me 3.769, 2019 (HBO) Michael Clayton, 2007 Mickey Blue Eyes, 1999 Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mulholland Dr., 2001 Muralla (aka Muralla, The Goalkeeper), 2018 (HBO) Murder on the Orient Express, 1974 (HBO) Music and Lyrics, 2007 My Dream Is Yours, 1949 My Girl 2, 1994 My Girl, 1991 My Sister’s Keeper, 2009 Now, Voyager, 1942 Old Dogs, 2009 (HBO) The Opposite Sex, 1956 The Pledge, 2001 (HBO) Precious, 2009 (HBO) The Producers, 1968 The Prophecy, 1995 (HBO) The Prophecy II, 1998 (HBO) The Prophecy III: The Ascent, 2000 (HBO) Prophecy IV: The Uprising, 2005 (HBO) Prophecy V: The Forsaken, 2005 (HBO) Pulp Fiction, 1994 Rachel and The Stranger, 1948 Radio Days, 1987 (HBO) The Reluctant Debutante, 1958 Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds IV: Nerds in Love, 2005 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds, 1984 (HBO) Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, 1991 Roger & Me, 1989 Rollerball, 2002 (HBO) Romance on the High Seas, 1948 Rumble in the Bronx, 1996 Safe House, 2012 (HBO) Salvador, 1986 (HBO) Shall We Dance?, 2004 Shallow Hal, 2001 (HBO) Shocker, 1989 (HBO) Sinbad of the Seven Seas, 1989 (HBO) Sprung, 1997 (HBO) Stop-Loss, 2008 (HBO) Sunshine Cleaning, 2009 (HBO) Swing Time, 1936 Tea for Two, 1950 Thief, 1981 (HBO) This Is Spinal Tap, 1984 (HBO) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 2011 (HBO) Top Hat, 1935 Trapped in Paradise, 1994 (HBO) Troll 2, 1990 (HBO) Troll, 1986 (HBO) Two Minutes of Fame, 2020 (HBO) Underdog, 2007 (HBO) Untamed Heart, 1993 (HBO) Up in the Air, 2009 (HBO) The Visitor, 2008 Waiting for Guffman, 1997 The Wedding Singer, 1998 Wendy, 2020 (HBO) Wildcats, 1986 (HBO) The Wings of Eagles, 1957 Without Love, 1945 Woman of the Year, 1942 Worth Winning, 1989 (HBO) Young Man with a Horn, 1949

The post HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021 appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3jwDnnp

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Sun., Jan. 24, 2021

Commemorated on January 11by the New calendar. 

The Monk Theodosios the Great (529)

     The Monk Theodosios the Great lived during the V-VI Centuries, and was the initiator of common-life (coenobitic) monasteries. He was born in Cappadocia of pious parents. Endowed with a splendid voice, he zealously toiled at church reading and singing. And the Monk Theodosios prayed fervently, that the Lord would guide him on the way to salvation. In his early years he visited the Holy Land and met with the Monk Simeon the Stylite ("Pillar-Dweller",  + 459, Comm. 1 September), who blessed him and predicted future pastoral service for him. Yearning for the solitary life, Saint Theodosios settled in Palestine into a desolate cave, – in which by tradition, the three Magi had spent the night, having come to worship at the Nativity of the Saviour of the world. In it he dwelt for 30 years in great abstinence and unceasing prayer. Steadily there began to throng to the ascetic those wanting to live under his guidance. When the cave could no more hold all the gathered monks, the Monk Theodosios began to pray, that the Lord Himself would point out the place for the monks. Taking with him a censer with cold unlit coals, the monk went into the wilderness. At a certain spot the coals fired up and set the incense smoke to rising. Here also the monk founded the first common-life monastery, or Lavra [Greek "Laura" meaning "broad" or populous"; in Russia were four such: Trinity-Sergeev, Kievo-Pechersk, Alexander-Nevsk and Pochaev], under the ustav-rule of Saint Basil the Great (+ 379, Comm. 1 January). Soon the Lavra of the Monk Theodosios became reknown, and up to 700 monks gathered at it. According to the final testament of the Monk Theodosios, the Lavra rendered service to neighbour, giving aid to all the poor and providing shelter for wanderers.

The Monk Theodosios was extremely compassionate. One time when there was a famine in Palestine and a multitude of people gathered at the monastery, the monk gave orders to allow everyone into the monastery enclosure. His disciples were annoyed, knowing, that the monastery did not have the means to feed all those who had come. But when they went into the bakery, they saw that then through the prayers of the abba, that it was filled with bread. And suchlike a miracle was repeated every time, when the Monk Theodosios wanted to give help to the destitute.      At the monastery the Monk Theodosios built an home for taking in strangers, separate infirmaries for monks and laymen, and also a shelter for the dying. Seeing that at the Lavra were gathered people from various lands, the monk arranged for Divine-services in the various languages – Greek, Gruzian (Georgian) and Armenian. For communing the Holy Mysteries all gathered in the large church, where Divine-services were done in Greek.      During the reign of the Constantinople emperor Anastasias (491-518) there arose the heresy of Eutykhios and Severus, which recognised neither the sacraments nor the clergy. The emperor joined in with the false-teaching, and the Orthodox began to suffer persecution. The Monk Theodosios stood firmly in defense of Orthodoxy and on behalf of the wilderness monks wrote a missive to the emperor, in which they denounced him and refuted the condemned heresy with the teachings of the OEcumenical Councils. He affirmed moreover, that the wilderness-dwellers and monks would firmly support the Orthodox confession. The emperor showed restraint for a short while, but then he renewed persecution of the Orthodox. The holy elder then manifest great zeal for the truth. Leaving the monastery, he came to Jerusalem and in the "Great" church, stood at the high place and cried out for all to hear: "Whoever honoureth not the four OEcumenical Councils, let them be anathema!". For this bold deed the monk was sent to prison, but soon returned after the death of the emperor.      The Monk Theodosios during his life accomplished many healings and other miracles, coming to the aid of the needy. One time by prayer he destroyed locusts that were devastating the fields in Palestine; also by his intercession, soldiers were kept from perishing, and he saved both those perishing in shipwreck and those lost in the desert.      One time the monk gave orders to strike the signal, so that the brethren would gather at prayer, and said: "The wrath of God draweth near the Eastern land". After several days it became known, that a strong earthquake had destroyed the city of Antioch at that very hour, when the monk had summoned the brethren to prayer. Before his death, the Monk Theodosios summoned to him three beloved bishops and revealed to them, that he would soon expire to the Lord. After three days he died at the age of 105, in the year 529. The body of the saint was buried with reverence in the cave, in which he lived at the beginning of his ascetic deeds.

The Monk Michael of Klopsk (452)

     The Monk Michael of Klopsk was descended of boyar (noble) lineage, and he was a kinsman of GreatPrince Dimitrii Donskoi (1363-1389). He took upon himself the exploit of Fool-for-Christ: he left Moscow and in rags he arrived at the Klopsk monastery, near Novgorod. No one knew, how he got into the locked cell of the priest-monk Makarii, who then was making a censing at the 9th Ode of the Canon and was going round the cell censing. But there sat a man in monastic garb and beneath a candle he wrote copying from the Acts of the holy Apostles. After the finish of matins the hegumen with brethren came and started to ask the stranger: who is he and of what name? But he answered only by a repeating of the questions and did not reveal his origin. In church the saint sang in the choir and read the Epistle, and at meals he read the Saint-Lives. All who listened were moved by the beauty and spirituality of his reading. On the feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, the Klopsk monastery was visited by prince Konstantin Dimitrievich (son of GreatPrince Dimitrii Donskoi). After Communion he together with the princess was at the refectory, during the time of which the unknown stranger read from the Book of Job. Hearing the reading, the prince approached the reader and, having looked him over, he bowed down to him, calling him by name his kinsman Mikhail Maksimovich. The fool remarked: "The One Only Creator knoweth of me, who I be", but confirmed that his name was Michael. The Monk Michael soon set example for the brethren in all the monastic efforts. He lived at the Klopsk monastery for 44 years, exhausting his body in work, vigils and various deprivations, and he received from the Lord the gift of perspicacity. He denounced the vices of people, not fearing the powerful of this world. He predicted the birth on 22 January 1440 of GreatPrince Ivan III (1462-1505), and the taking of Novgorod by him. He denounced prince Dimitrii Shemyaka for blinding his brother the GreatPrince Vasilii the Dark (1425-1462).

All texts©1996-2001 by translator Fr. S. Janos.

Matthew 4:12-17 

12Now when Jesus heard that John had been put in prison, He departed to Galilee.13 And leaving Nazareth, He came and dwelt in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the regions of Zebulun and Naphtali,14 that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying: 15 The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, By the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles: 16 The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, And upon those who sat in the region and shadow of death Light has dawned." 17 From that time Jesus began to preach and to say, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."

2 Corinthians 4:6-15 

6 For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.7 But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. 8 We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed- 10 always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.11 For we who live are always delivered to death for Jesus' sake, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. 12 So then death is working in us, but life in you. 13 And since we have the same spirit of faith, according to what is written, "I believed and therefore I spoke," we also believe and therefore speak, 14 knowing that He who raised up the Lord Jesus will also raise us up with Jesus, and will present us with you. 15 For all things are for your sakes, that grace, having spread through the many, may cause thanksgiving to abound to the glory of God.

[marshmallowprotection]

Anemonastrum

Inspired by that Anon that wanted to see what would happen if Lila woke up in Bad Ending 3. Forsaken Dreams.

Something wasn't right. 

She awoke with a start in bed as if something was amiss and wrong. 

Her breathing heavy as the faintest memory of a nightmare lingered on her lips, sweat lined her brow, and her brown eyes felt unfocused in the dark. She was used to the sun pouring into the room but now there was no sun to be seen. She didn't close the curtains, nor did she remember closing them the night before. 

Lila rubbed her eyes. It wore off some of the exhaustion but it didn't do much in the way of making her feel like she was alright. Her stomach felt uneasy. Her bed was empty. Her fingers searched through the sheets in hunt of the warmth of her partner and she found nothing. 

No trace of Saeran and no sign of him. 

He never got out of bed in the morning unless she was awake. He never left her side just as she never left his. "Where…?" 

She could feel her nerves start to rise. She looked down at her lap, and that started another uneasy feeling as she couldn't recognize the bed or the sheets on it. She then looked around the room as she saw and took notice of the decorations. This wasn't the room they shared in the bunker that belonged to Saeyoung. 

This didn't look like any of the rooms in the bunker. 

It looked like it had been styled by someone who was tastefully trying to pay homage to the Addams Family and the occult. It was dark, it was dreary, and it reminded her of what she had been drawn to when she was younger before she let herself embrace pink and ribbons as she always wanted. It felt more like something that someone else would design rather than herself. 

Okay. She thought, I'm in a room I don't know. What did I do? Okay. Start from what you remember last and piece it together. We were working on hunting Saeyoung but we hit another dead end once we got to the location and Saeran had to stop. Then what happened? I can't remember… did we even get home last night? 

Lila had no choice but to leave the bed and try to figure out where she was and how she got there. She couldn't feel her phone in her pockets nor did she know where it was. She would have to investigate the room to see if it had been left somewhere or if someone had taken it. Her fingers touched black paint on the dresser and found nothing. 

She paused, her eyes flickering to a vase by the end table. It held black roses of all things. Her fingers brushed against the petals and found that they were real, not fake, not dyed. They seemed to be alive despite the lack of sunlight in this sullen room. Who lived in such a place and how did they fare without the sun shining upon them? 

She couldn't imagine not having the sun to greet her in the morning. 

Lila had spent too many years in the dark to deny herself the light. Saeran agreed with that sentiment and that was why they both often awoke to the birdsong and sun kissing their cheeks. She smiled as she thought of the way his lips brushed against her cheeks as he tried to kiss every freckle, letting her know that she was an angel kissed by the sun. 

Her heart clenched. 

She needed to find him. 

She narrowed her brows, "What is this place?" 

Where even was this? Why was she here? She came to pause on the opposing side of the room as she rested near a mirror, about to look at her reflection but she was stopped by the door opening and light pouring in from the hallway. She rubbed her eyes as the light dug into her retinas and scolded her for being in such a dark place. 

The figure was illuminated by the light, and she couldn't make out their features. They were short in stature so she knew that it wouldn't have been a man, not from the way the curls tucked around their face and shoulders that wasn't tucked away by a ponytail. They were wearing a black dress and she soon realized those curls were blonde. 

The dress was embroidered with gold and silver patterns in the stitching around her neck and had the smallest hint of her chest as the cut opened around it. She knew that dress just as well as she knew those blonde curls. They belonged to someone that she hadn't seen in a few months and someone that she'd tried to forget but never could. 

Lila's breath caught in her throat. 

It was Rika. 

Rika was standing in front of her and she had her cornered in a room. God, was it her room? She took a step back and tried not to trip and fall on her ass. She pressed her fingers to the wall as she watched and waited with bated breath to see what the woman would do. Lila could never forget Rika nor was she sure she ever would. 

She sank to the ground, voice failing her as she stared helplessly at the woman who once held her life in her hands. 

How could anyone forget someone that struck unease into your heart? How could she forget when Saeran would never forget? She was there at his side when he woke up from nightmares and tried to help him understand that they weren't in Mint Eye and that she was safe, and that he was safe. So many nights haunted by this devil, and so many nights spent fearing that she could never help Saeran move past his fear. 

How was she with Rika? What happened? Did she get drugged or knocked out? God, if that was the case she needed to find Saeran and get them out fast. She wasn't a hacker but she knew how to run and she could run fast. Suddenly, it felt like no matter what the answer was, it didn't matter, all she knew was she was with Rika now and that was the last place that she ever wanted to be. 

The fear must have been obvious because Rika chuckled at the pathetic look in Lila's eyes. 

"Nightmares, again?" Rika questioned, her face looking far more friendly than she remembered ever receiving. "Was it about your sister, dear? I've told you many times… you're stronger than she ever will be and you don't need to concern yourself with those begotten people. You've earned your place as my precious sister." 

Lila blinked, utterly perplexed. She opened her mouth to question how she knew that but was cut off when Rika walked forward. Her high heels clicked against the ground until she came to a halt in front of Lila. She held out a hand for the brunette and Lila just looked at it. 

What game was she trying to play here? 

They weren't sisters, they never would be sisters. 

"It's cute to see this side of you come out," Rika took a hold of her hands anyway. She helped her stand up without even a second thought. "You command with beauty and grace with your devil to all those that need your stern hand. Yet, a simple nightmare will make you so skittish. That's why I'm happy to share my guidance with you. Your reign only grows stronger, as does mine, when we learn to use those feelings of fear and anxiety as righteous justice." 

Lila felt too caught up in her emotions to say anything. Rika always had this power to make you question yourself and she didn't want to incur her anger or wrath when she didn't have a good sense of what was happening. She was acting like Lila was her family, her friend, or something, and all she knew was nothing was connecting. 

What was she talking about? 

She sat down at the desk next to the mirror and kept quiet, trying not to make matters worse. If she wasn’t playing the cruel leader of a cult yet, so, she wanted to keep it that way until she knew for sure where she was trapped with Rika. She and Saeran had tried to look back into Mint Eye after they had settled down to see what had happened when they left. 

There had been no sign of Rika… or any of the believers. It wasn’t a good sign but there was nothing that they could do about it. It was bad enough they were dealing with the Prime Minister, but they didn’t have the time to tell Jumin and the others about that. Saeran didn’t think they went to any of the hideouts that she had been putting together. 

So, they quietly both assumed that everyone had just… left. Rika would’ve lost all her power and the last that Saeran saw, she had collapsed and seemingly given up on everything. It was possible that she wasn’t going to keep things going. There was no sign of V, either, but there was no proof that he had gone to see her. 

So, how had she found Saeran and Lila and why did she take them? 

Lila had to keep her cool as Rika began to brush out her hair, a hum behind her lips. That was when she took a moment to glance in the direction of the mirror and see her reflection. It didn’t look right. It didn’t look like… herself.

She had to bite back a gasp as she saw herself, but it didn’t look like herself in the slightest. Her eyes looked tired, and they’d lost their luster. Her curls were all but gone, her hair straightened and bangs falling in front of her eyes. It was like she was a different person entirely. Rika didn’t seem bothered by the look in her eyes. 

“You’re not usually late to our meetings,” Rika commented, idly. “I wondered what had gotten you so distracted. I suppose I was right to come and check on you. Here I thought you were spending your time scolding your little prince. I was worried for nothing.” 

“Uh,” Lila managed to get one word out edgewise. “Forgive me for asking, but what’s on the schedule for today?” 

Rika paused, “Tsk, tsk. We must do something about you today, shouldn’t we? You’re out of sorts. Today is the anniversary of our ascension, my dear. It’s been six months since you joined us and you’ve made such wonderful progress. It would be wrong to not celebrate our growing plans. After all, you’re the one that’s given me the guaranteed success of our paradise.” 

Lila watched as the blonde set down the brush on the table and clasped her hands together. She nodded in approval of her looks and looked in the direction of the closet. “Do get dressed and meet me in the throne room when you are prepared for the day. Reflect on your despair and channel it into your rage. I can’t wait to see what the day brings us.” 

Shared power? 

What in the world was happening? 

There was no choice for her but to do what she was told to do. Looking out the window only rewarded her the view of a mountain that she hadn’t seen in months. Her blood ran cold as she walked into the closet and stared at the fabric. She got dressed methodically and quickly out of her nightgown and just paused in front of the mirror once more. 

She was seeing a woman who looked… to be filled with contempt. She raised a hand to her face and frowned. This dress didn’t feel like something that she would wear, either. It was black, and while the headpiece was ornate and covered in colors, it didn’t feel right. She hadn’t worn something gothic since she had been a preteen.

Where was the pink and red that she had allowed herself to become accustomed to? She would have been alright with Saeran’s sweater over her shoulders too, but nothing like this. Rika was talking as if Lila had never left Mint Eye and as if she had… willingly started working with them. She never would have done that.  

She had done everything she could to leave this place until Saeran made it possible. So, why was she in the mountains again? Why was Rika here? Where was Saeran? What was happening and why did it feel like she was missing something? 

Lila left that dark and lonely room as soon as she could, finding herself walking the halls that she had once known and learned for her safety. There were believers throughout the building and they bowed their heads and quickly hurriedly out of her sight whenever she made eye contact. It was like they were scared of her or something. 

The believers had never thought much of her, not as far as she knew, many of them had been angry that she had been allowed to stay without drinking the elixir for so long but that was all she knew of many of them. They all obeyed their queen and since Lila was against their queen, it only made sense for them not to like her too. 

She didn’t like that feeling that ran down her spine as people saw her and looked away. 

Lila was just a girl that barely stood taller than five feet tall. She was timid, shy, and too quiet for her good. Nobody could have been scared of her in her eyes. She was about as frightening as a pink cupcake. Then again, she thought back to what Rika had said to her about them sharing power, and suddenly, those dangerous words felt like they had weight to them. 

If everyone was scared of her, then she had done something… or something had changed to make people think she wasn’t weak. She pushed open the doors to the main chamber and walked inside to find that Rika was indeed waiting for her at the head of the room. There were two chairs where there was once one chair. 

It implied that Rika wasn’t ruling Mint Eye alone. 

Her fingers trembled at her side as she approached the woman, feeling like she was having an out of body experience as the believers bowed their heads and ducked out of the room. She paused right as she stood in front of Rika, but the blonde beckoned the forward. Lila had no choice but to stand at her side as someone appeared from the shadows. 

“Good of you to join us on time, Saeran,” Rika spoke with a simple smile on her face. “I expect that you’ve learned your lesson from last time?” 

Lila’s eyes widened and she stood there frozen as Saeran came from the shadows, his eyes exhausted and his shoulders slugged as he sank to his knees in front of them and bowed his head to them, to the both of them.  “Yes, I have learned my lesson, my queen, forgive me.” 

Lila didn’t see it, but Rika’s lips had curled into an amused smirk. “It’s not me that you should beg for forgiveness from, Saeran. You should direct your blatant acts of disrespect and idiocy to her, given you were the one that upset her in the first place. Maybe she’ll humor you, you know she’s always just a bit too soft on you.” 

Her heart started to race wildly, and Lila began to think: No, no, no, don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me. 

Saeran lifted his head and despite her internal protests, he looked right at her, and her crumbled into pieces as if she was living her worst nightmare. He looked as if someone had crushed his heart and soul into pieces and stomped on the pieces so they could never connect again. His eyes were worn with rings of purple and his skin white as a sheet. 

He looked tired and that was all she could allow herself to think without the bile in her throat growing any stronger. He was barely holding himself together and all she could think about was how she could not stand the sight of his agony. He looked… she wanted to shut her eyes but she couldn’t, it was her world was running slowly and her mind was running too fast. 

It was too much. 

Saeran hadn’t looked this worn down when they were trapped at the end. This was a different kind of exhaustion. This was worse. He was barely holding himself together and yet, no matter how tired he was, he kept his body upright. She had known that he would do anything… anything for the people that made him feel wanted and at that moment—

It felt like she was the source of his suffering. 

A hand brushed against Lila’s shoulder and she didn’t even notice until Rika leaned in next to her ear and whispered so softly, “Have some fun. Reclaim your inner devil and join me once you’ve collected your thoughts. I’ll let no one disturb you… no matter how much he begs.” 

“...!” 

The laughter that followed those words left Lila too stunned to responded. 

They were left alone rather quickly, and Lila shook the shock from her face and rushed to his side, sinking down to her knees in front of him, fingers brushing against his cheeks to get him to look at her directly. He nearly recoiled from her touch and a gasp left his lips as he was waiting for a slap or worse, but he didn’t get it. 

“Saeran,” her voice cracked in her throat. “What happened to you?” 

Saeran’s mint eyes widened briefly but then they settled back into a line.

He bit his lower lip and sucked it underneath his front row of teeth before he tore his gaze from hers. There was no response at first from him, just silence. "..."

Lila's fingers were still trembling against his skin, scared to let him go on the off chance that he would disappear and shrivel away from the rest of the world. "Saeran, my darling, please. I need to understand what's happening."

"Haven't we played this game enough?" was the whisper that came escaped him.

"...What?"

Saeran didn't lift his head but he did continue, "I can't play this game, my queen. I can't. Please, I am sorry I upset you but don't... don't do this to me. I will do anything you ask. Just... don't make me hope for something that can never be."

She was no queen.

She didn't want this.

Lila shook her head, incredulous. "I don't... I don't understand. I'm not playing a game... I promise. Saeran, why are we here? I'm really lost. What on earth happened? Why are you doing this?"

He looked at her, really looked at her, as if she was his sun, his moon, and his stars, but not in a true way. It was purely from fear and she could see it. She had only seen him look at Rika in that way and to see him regard her with such unease made her feel sick.

Pieces of the puzzle had started to connected and she wanted to scream.

"Please," his voice was desperate. His hands trembled as he lifted them to hover over her own but he didn't touch her hands. "Don't do this to me. I deserve it. I know. I hurt you by playing this game with you. Punish me if it makes you happy but don't make me think you're.. you're... you're not the princess anymore. You're my queen, you made your choice. Let me make you happy, let me make you happy forever by servicing you, but do not make me relive those moments of the past."

Lila recoiled, "No, no, no, no, this isn't... this isn't our life. This isn't us. We were free, free from this place, living together on the outside and building a life out there together-"

Lila could feel her eyes welling up with tears as he begged and pleaded with her as if she owned his life. Her breathing started to accelerate in its stead and the hum of static started to swell in her panic. She questioned everything she had ever done.

Had she dreamed the past six months?

Did she really agree to join Rika?

Had she broken the only person she ever loved for power?

Was she truly a monster?

Had she deluded herself in a dream? Her hands fell from his face and she stared at him, the bile in her throat biting like a wildfire that would never die.

"This is our life, I'm not allowed to imagine such things outside of this." Saeran's broken voice said against her dread. His tired eyes haunting her like a ghost. "So, let me make it perfect for you now, my queen, let me make you happy here in your paradise so you may know peace. It's all I'm good for. There was never any future for me on the outside and you knew it. So, you've given me a purpose... and I will fulfill it until the day I die. I only ask you... to not give me hope and crush it away."

She was a monster.

And the only thing Lila could do in that moment was scream.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty Seven: Retribution

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Seven: Retribution

Notes: Ah yes. I’ve been waiting for two damn weeks for you all to get to read this one. This is going to be a wild time. Buck up and get ready for turbulence!

(-~-)

The air in the open cavern was practically statically charged as the three descendants of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda navigated their way through the dense underbrush, their coats catching on every conceivable obstacle and slowing them down slightly. The eldest of the twins was clearly in a hurry for some sudden and unidentified reason, and seemed to be just shy of an actual panic fueled sprint, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by his youngest son and his younger identical twin. Considering Vergil’s generally calm and collected demeanor that bordered on cold dismissal at times, this sudden uptake in barely concealed panic was actually extremely unnerving to his compatriots, especially Nero.

Although he had not spent his entire life around his father, Nero was keen enough to realize that Vergil shouldn’t be walking at what could be charitably described as a light sprint through an area that they had no familiarity with and that was inhabited by a sinister death cult that apparently served a particularly worrisome demon. He had warned both Nero and V against doing that very thing just before V had explained enough of his plan to them to get them to go along with it. If only they could go back to that more innocent time before all of this had happened. But perhaps it was better this way. At least they knew what they were up against now. That had been V’s intention in the first place.

Nero could practically still see the look on Vergil’s face when V had confidently advised the two of them that he planned to be captured so that he might learn more about the inner-workings of the cult that stalked him so relentlessly. Vergil had immediately objected, something that V seemed to anticipate. But he’d reminded his father that both he and Nero had made it into adulthood by going off of their gut instinct and doing what they thought was right. He’d rightly concluded that learning about their opponents could be invaluable, especially when it came to light that they might be more numerous than they had originally anticipated just a short while ago. And when V had reminded his father that they had agreed to work together in regards to solving this issue, Vergil had hesitantly caved, clearly regretting the statement.

Trusting both of his sons was something that he generally didn’t have too much of an issue with. They both came off to him as honest and deserving of his confidence in their capabilities. But when it came to plans that could get them severely injured or even killed Vergil was much less flexible. Nero could only guess that the eldest Son of Sparda had agreed to do so in the hopes that it might instill something in V. Perhaps to show that he had confidence in his ability to think things through in light of the stern talking to that he’d just give them both about wandering off into unknown situations and areas without a plan? That was all that Nero could glean from it. But regardless, he himself had been willing to do what V thought was right. He’d seen his intellect in action before in Redgrave City, and anyone who could stealth his way thought that forsaken hellscape by themselves with summons that he now knew he’d only just acquired was capable of making an infallible plan.

But how could any of them have planned for the eventuality that a super powerful demon might be bankrolling a den of somewhat capable summoners?

Nero certainly wouldn’t have. He’d never even heard of that type of demon before. A demon prince? Why was there more than one of them? Were they all related to one another, or was it a ranking that they had earned through power and intimidation or something of the like? Nero had no way of knowing outside of asking one of his companions, so he intended to do just that. But he got the distinct feeling that Vergil was in no mood to discuss the finer points of underworld leadership with him at a time like this.

“So this demon… Is he a friend of yours or something? You seem like you’ve met him before.” Nero said as he approached Vergil from behind. The devil slayer had halted his ceaseless march through the thick underbrush in favor of simply cutting through the section they were facing. Why go the long way around when you could go through, especially when so much was at risk and they were seemingly so far from their destination?

Vergil swung the blade once, at least from what Nero could tell. A moment later, the tall pine tree in front of them toppled over noisy and crushed a nearby boulder, cracking it down the middle. One could only assume that the element of surprise was no longer his father’s main concern. That fact alone was enough to put Nero on edge, but the fact that Dante seemed to be waiting for a reply didn’t help. The youngest of the three normally looked to the two oldest members of his family for assistance with matters he didn’t know about. This was one of those matters. The realization that Dante didn’t seem to know either startled him. Having to possibly go up against a demon that only one of them knew anything about wasn’t the kind of bet he liked to take these days, especially after how spectacularly bad things had gone just two months prior.

“... We’ve had occasion to interact with one another. He’s a rare breed, both cunning and capable, with the patience to sit and wait for an opportunity for as long as he deems necessary. But when he decides to strike…” Vergil stopped talking for a moment, seemingly considering something. His lack of comfort with the situation at hand only grew stronger the longer he had to acknowledge the fact that things had come to this.” When I returned from the Underworld, I was in a considerably weakened state. Belial helped put me there. Doing battle against him at that point would’ve been foolish. The wounds he dealt me part of the reason I was so eager to reclaim Yamato upon returning to the human world.”

Dante let out a long, deep sigh, taking in the gravity of his older brother’s sentiment. It was not every day that he had to go up against the kind of demon that could give Vergil a run for his money, even if he was in a vulnerable state. Even at his lowest, the oldest Son of Sparda was far above the pay grade of the vast majority of Hell’s denizens. And the fact that he’d managed to actually wound Vergil to the point where he had to basically make a tactical retreat to the human world to escape him didn’t bode well.

“What do you think he wants with V? Did you throw some of those fancy insults his way and manage to rile him up or something? Because if he holds grudges anything like Mundus did...” Dante started and then trailed off, not even slightly interested in revisiting that chapter of his life. He had enough things to worry about at present without adding his past transgressions to them.

Nero gave them both a sideways look, internally questioning himself as to what the hell they were both talking about. “Who’s Mundus?”

The younger member of the group could practically feel Vergil die inside at the mention of that name. For a moment, he seemed to visibly recoil in discomfort at the prospect of talking about it. That alone was enough of an answer for Nero, at least for the time being. After all, they were going against this Belial and his right hand man Agreus, right? This wasn’t the time to have things get bogged down in the details. All he needed to know for the time being was who to put a bullet in, and how many it would take to put them down for good so that they could leave this place and it’s problems behind them. V didn’t need to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder in anticipation of another attack, and they didn’t need to be constantly worried about him.

“You know what? Nevermind. I have a better question.” Nero said as Dante turned towards him, seemingly about to answer in his older twin’s stead. The demon hunter in red nodded as if to ask him to continue.” How would this demon even know about V? I mean, you said you fought him before, but you didn’t even know about us back then. How could he know V existed without you knowing first?”

Vergil stayed quiet for another moment, felling another thick section of the almost maze-like section of woods that they found themselves in at the end of his razor sharp blade. He looked just about ready to simply fly over the area and search for V that way, but he hadn’t made the decision to do so just yet.

“I knew about him. I didn’t know about you. And I have no theories as to how he found out.” Vergil said in an almost resigned tone. With the revelation that Belial was their opponent, ever passing second felt like an eternity. He needed to know that V was safe, and that was not something that he could achieve from this distance. ”As for a reason for him to do this... I don’t have one. Belial is above things as petty as grudges. He cares little for minor infractions. He only surfaces when he wants something from-”

As if he’d been hit head on in the face by something, Vergil stopped dead in his tracks. In that instant, he figured out what it was that the cult might be after. And the very idea of it was enough to send him into a frantic roulette of negative possibilities, reducing his mind to little more than a revolving door of nightmare scenarios. As if to compliment the hopeless atmosphere, the conduit suddenly let off another shockwave of energy, this one considerable stronger than the last. The trees bend backwards far enough to touch the ground and the cavern shook violently as parts of the cave shook violently in response to the blast, sending the three devil hunters backwards onto the ground with a thud. An audible screech somewhat akin to the sounds that Gilgamesh had made during Nero’s battle with it in Redgrave City rattled the air around them, irritating their ears somewhat.

Just a second later, a second, decidedly different shockwave erupted across the landscape, not so much shaking things as much as it seemed to bathe them in a dark energy. It was thick and fleeting, only lasting a moment before dissipating. The major difference was the effect it had on the descendants of the Dark Knight Sparda. For a brief moment, the three of them triggered before reverting back to their more human forms and leaving the trio as startled as they were disoriented.

Before any of them could climb all the way to their feet, the sound of metal bending against its will followed by a loud, blood curdling scream echoed through the space between them and the conduit, earning a startled look from Nero as he took a moment to consider what might have just happened. Vergil seemed literally frozen in place, be it from disbelief or terror he couldn’t say. His father’s face was literally unreadable. But Dante’s reaction was a bit easier to gauge. The devil hunter in red practically burst into laughter, shaking his head in what had to be disbelief as he clambered to his feet and adjusted his posture before summoning his blade and walking in the direction of the commotion. Vergil slowly adjusted his posture and joined him, although still with a certain degree of hesitation that Nero found unsettling and hard to quantify.

“... What the fuck was that?” Nero asked as he followed along after them, the group now speeding up their pace in silent acknowledgement of the situation and it's possible consequences. The youngest of the three could swear he’d felt something like that before, but couldn't pinpoint the precise moment when he’d experienced it. But regardless, he couldn’t help but notice it. There was a certain uncanny familiarity to it that he’d be remiss to overlook. And he had a feeling he was about to find out what it was.

(-~-)

For a moment, V’s entire brain seemed to lack the ability to process the gravity of the injury that had been dealt to him. He blinked slowly, not so much feeling his heartbeat as he was hearing it. The same went for his breath as he drew in slow, deliberate drags of air in a desperate attempt to not teeter over the edge into unconsciousness. His sight was crystal clear for the first time since he’d been brought down there, and that was mostly due to the fact that he was in such an astounding amount of pain that he was probably staring straight up in the air with an exasperated look on his face that would honestly be quite funny if it wasn’t due to the fact that he had a knife stuck between his trapezius and his clavicle.

And he absolutely did despite every wish that he had otherwise.

In all honesty, he’d expected of the deranged madman to stab him in the chest or cut his throat, but the idea of being stabbed downward in the space between his shoulder blade and his throat had never crossed his mind. And he was now positive that it was his least favorite place to be stabbed, because to say it was excruciating would’ve been an undeniable understatement. His entire chest and throat area on his left side felt like it was on fire, and he was pouring blood from the severed artery that had been severely punctured by the blade. V wouldn’t have been shocked to find out that the blade had narrowly missed his heart or the top of one of his lungs due to the angle and the length of the blade involved, especially since it was still stuck in his shoulder. Should he consider himself lucky or cursed?

Content with his handiwork, Agreus had simply dropped him onto the ground after he’d stabbed him, the aura of pleasure that radiated off of him at the sight of V so near death unmistakable even through a featureless mask. And as he laid there, not entirely sure how he was going to get out of that situation, a low, barreling, and entirely inhuman voice came from within the conduit behind him. And it seemed thoroughly displeased.

“You are entirely too eager to please me, servant. I told you I needed him alive!”

Agreus backpedaled slightly at the statement, clearly rattled. “And he shall be, Master. I simply had to be sure. What are a few wounds to one with the blood of a devil coursing through their veins? Even one as weak as this boy?”

V would’ve vocalized his feelings about such a statement, but he couldn’t find the mental energy to. The only thing he could feel aside from the lethargy that came with the massive blood loss he’d suffered through was the sensation of something powerful welling up from within him. The latent power that he’d felt activate when he’d first been brought near the conduit seemed to trickle down through the rest of his body, and now it was spreading like a wildfire. As Agreus and the disembodied voice spoke to one another, V teetered ever closer to the edge, but what that edge was, he couldn’t say. The murky depths beckoned, and he was tempted to give in to that call if only to quench the all consuming fire that burned within him. And to fulfill his desire for revenge.

“Do not assume to know how my kind function, servant. You are not one of us. Now give me what I came here for and leave before you prematurely deprive me of what little usefulness you still possess.”

The young summoner could practically feel Agreus flinch at his master’s order before he bowed and turned to face him again. V was actually somewhat surprised to see that the demon that the cultist served seemed to actually think less of him than he did. In truth, he didn’t know how that could even be possible. “As you wish, Master. It shall be done.”

V wasn’t sure what caused it to happen, but the moment that cultist in white stepped towards him, something inside of him shifted. The thin line that he’d walked for the last little while practically snapped and crumbled beneath him, sending him plummeting into the darkness that he felt welling up from within him. For a brief moment, V closed his eyes. And as he reopened them, he caught a glimpse of Agreus as he stopped dead in his tracks in stunned terror. And then all hell broke loose.

With a sudden cascade of power that he couldn’t honestly believe had originated from him, a shockwave of black and green energy erupted from within him and shot out across the entire area on a collision path with everything in sight as he was overtaken by the overwhelming force of nature that was his initial transformation. The metal loop that had previously bound him suddenly felt like a cheap toy in comparison to the  rush of strength and adrenaline that he’d been hit with. He had no idea what he was capable of doing in that moment, but one thing was for certain: he knew he could break free of his restraints and give Agreus a taste of his own medicine.

And he planned to do just that.

It took basically no effort for him to snap free from the restraints. The metal pulley strained against his resolve and crumbled shortly after. It had only been strong enough to hold him when he was in a more vulnerable state, but in that moment, it lost the battle and toppled over against the ground, slamming onto the stone surface of the altar with a powerful thud that sent the cultist toppling over. Since V was already on the ground, it took very little effort for him to grab a hold of his aggressor and pin him down with his right arm. Unfortunately, the muscles in his left arm still burned painfully.

As if instinctively, it occurred to V in that moment that he still owed Agreus a parting gift. He had made the decision to give as good as he'd gotten, and he intended to make good on that promise. In an act born purely of his desire to help educate his captor as to what it felt like to be stabbed in the leg with a ceremonial dagger, V used his right hand to grip the handle of the bladed instrument and pulled it from his neck in one swift, painful moment. Regardless of his extreme discomfort with the action, it had to come out one way or another. He then immediately turned the blade on Agreus and stabbed him in the upper thigh in precisely the same spot that he'd inflicted his wound and withdrew the blade, keeping a grip on it. Although he now possessed a set of razor sharp claws and fangs, he was aware that possessing a knife was an advantageous strategy, even if he was far from proficient with one.

The cultist cried out in pain and jumped to his feet, stumbling back towards the edge of the conduit as it split down the middle, black energy still radiating from it. V somehow managed to drag himself to his feet, but found that he was far from steady as he stumbled forward and fell over to one side, making impact with the ground again. He winced at the unwanted contact and attempted to stand back up, intent on finishing off Agreus before he could make his escape. Just as his long, needle-like nails made contact with the cult leader’s exposed neck, the man in white stumbled back and crashed through the rift in the conduit. The collision triggered some sort of adverse reaction that caused the rift to crumble as it sent forth another powerful shockwave, sending V flying backwards into the shallow black waters of the corrupted pool.

Upon landing in the cursed black water, V gasped and jumped back out of it, his strength and triggered state rapidly regressing as he dragged himself over to the edge of the stone tablet and towards what he assumed to be the exit. As he went, he pocketed the blade and caught sight of the book that the cultist had been carrying. Unwilling to pass up an opportunity to examine it if he made it out of the collapsing cavern alive, he slumped over and picked it up, tucking it away for later. He had entrusted his own book to Vergil back at the entrance before they'd enacted the plan, so he had more than enough room to store it on his person.

The cavern crumbled around him in small sections as the conduit continued to shudder and buckle, breaking off into pieces and falling in the pool of water below. V gradually slowed as he went, despite the fact that he was attempting to move quicker in order to escape. Where was everyone? Had they been led astray by the vast network of tunnels that snaked through the earth to reach this place? One could only hope that wasn’t the case. And even if they were with him, would they see him in the pitch black darkness of the cave? He was soaked head to toe in a mixture of the black liquid from the conduit and his own blood, much to the dismay of the non-sentient white shirt Kyrie had talked him into wearing. At least it was now a color more to his liking.

Every cloud.

His injured leg and neck burned as he limped along, more or less unsure as to where he was actually going. Despite the fact that more light was being let in from the holes in the roof of the cavern, his own vision was dimming. Without the extra dose of adrenaline in his system from his involuntary trigger, he was hopelessly low on blood and the energy to carry on much longer. The only upside was that his injuries had ceased bleeding during his transformation, the rush of demonic power more or less acting as a band-aid during the process. His body had patched itself up as much as it possibly could given the circumstances, but he knew that he was still wounded and weak. He couldn't last much longer in such a state, especially lost and alone with nowhere to go.

What he wouldn’t have done for Griffon to be by his side.

Or his cane...

Or for the energy and know how to trigger a second time.

He was almost certain that he’d possessed wings for a moment.

Just as he reached a small open patch in the underbrush, a familiar voice called out to him. V glanced up from the ground he’d been too weak to look up from and shuttered slightly at the sight before him. Standing across the clearing from him were Dante, Vergil, and Nero, more than likely just as surprised to see him as he was to see them. Upon catching sight of the sorry state that he was in, they rushed forward to meet him, and not a moment too soon. Vergil managed to get within an arm's reach of him before he crumbled like wet cardboard in a storm and his legs buckled, sending him crashing face first into his bewildered parent.

Vergil kneeled down to make eye contact with the young summoner, allowing him to simply slump over on him as he caught his breath. Although he was not unconscious, it didn’t take a particularly keen eye to realize that there was no way he was walking out of there. V had long since reached his breaking point, and there was no going any further. The devil slayer in blue took a moment to quietly take in the sight before him, the gravity of the situation not lost on him. Although he didn’t say it (or anything at all) as Vergil quietly placed his hand on the back of V’s injured shoulder to covertly assess the damage, he was quite proud of him for making it as far as he had with so little still left in him. Anyone present could tell that he'd struggled considerably to arrive at the location that he had in such short order, especially without the assistance of his family. V’s true strength came from his willpower and refusal to lay down and die at the hands of his enemies, and Vergil couldn’t help but respect that. It was a similar sentiment.

“... You should rest. Do not try to get up.” Vergil said almost breathlessly, relief settling over him and he turned towards Dante and Nero. The two of them had been standing a few feet behind him, giving them the space that they clearly needed. “Take him for a moment.”

Nero stepped forward without any form of hesitation, no consideration for the heart attack all the blood he'd be soaked in as a result would probably cause Kyrie when they next met passing through his mind. He would worry about that when they were out of there. Dante hovered around the three of them, trying and mostly succeeding in his attempts to hide his concern. His body language gave it away more than anything else. The devil hunter in red was simply relieved to see that V was still breathing, especially considering how bad he looked. There really was something to him, wasn’t there? While he had no idea what had transpired down there, he knew what had just happened to V. All of them did, though the younger of the twin Sons of Sparda wasn't entirely sure if Nero had clued into it just yet. That kind of power was unmistakable.

Vergil took the opportunity to unsheath Yamato and open up a portal to another location before turning towards Nero and Dante. “Go. I’ll take him.”

The two shared a curious look before wordlessly following his lead. This wasn’t the time for questions, and wherever the gate led had to be better than where they were, if only for the fact that it probably wasn't a collapsing cave. As soon as they’d passed through, Vergil kneeled over and brushed off the breathless attempt that V made to offer to stand and simply scooped him up, carrying him bridal style through the portal. The young summoner attempted to protest for a moment before caving to his father's silent demands. V closed his eyes and finally allowed exhaustion to settle over him in earnest, letting out a sigh of relief and discomfort. There was no point in trying to accomplish anything else, not with the state he was in.

As Vergil approached the portal, he paused for a moment. The desire to go and do a quick check of the area to try and assess what they'd been up to was almost overwhelming, but he knew that V couldn't spare that kind of time. He would have to return after he'd seen to it that both of his troublemaking spawn were somewhere less hazardous. A quick glance down confirmed that V was still conscious, though less so than he had been moment's prior. And in that moment, it seemed that the cold irony of the situation settled over the Darkslayer. Vergil had followed through on his prior threat back at the hotel after all.

He’d found something to carry after all.

(-~-)

Oh, boy, this is going to be one hell of a comment section. I’m excited and scared to see what everyone is going to say all at once. It took me so long to write this chapter that I can’t even put it into words. Thanks again for all of you awesome support, and I’ll see you next Wednesday! I’ll keep you posted on my possible upcoming work hours. I’ve been off work since before Soliloquy started, but I’m going to try my hardest to keep the same upload schedule. Wish I could just get paid to stay at home and write for you all!

[kattegat-kittycat]

Fates Entwined, part V: On the Way to Lose It All

After your former clan was brutally murdered, you agree to an arranged marriage with Ivar to keep your social status. You may not always see eye to eye and sometimes even find yourself on different sides of one war or the other, but somehow you can never escape each other no matter how much you try to forget, deny and run. Somehow you always end up in each other’s faces. Sometimes quite literally.

A/N: Well, this chapter got longer than I expected. This story also started to develope its own flow while I was writing. I like when that happens and suddenly your story starts to drag you with it if you want to or not :D Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.  

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Beautiful morning is breaking

Leaving us all behind

All of the gloomy faces

And all the truths we hide

Entwine – Out of You

  I had forgotten, how cathartic training could be. Purging your built up anger and frustration and channeling it into movement. I hadn’t known the shield maidens before, and I knew when I arrived at their practice that they thought me a spoiled princess, maybe a lousy fighter, but most of all, they didn’t think that I would get down and dirty with them. But I did.

They had paired me up wit one of their weakest fighters in the beginning and I could see that right away. Her stance was unbalanced, the grip on her sword loose. The shield felt like a burden to her, it wasn’t an extension of her like it was with me.

I quickly moved up through the variously skilled fighters until I was welcomed to their elite. By then, I felt like my old self again. I was good, a skilled sword fighter and they could use me in their ranks. It felt good to be accepted for myself, even though I still felt some of the shield maidens eyeing me warily. And I knew why, as I could feel a familiar pair of eyes on me toward the end of the training session. I smiled as I turned to look up the small rise of the ring wall, where Ivar was sitting in the soft grass, watching us. He smiled as I walked toward him and opened his arms.

“My Sif, you are a true wonder to behold. You are as swift with your blade as you are with your tongue. And that comes from a place of awe. But tell me, how well are your skills in archery?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Not bad, but I could use a good teacher. So, if you happen to know one, send him my way.”

Ivar patted the ground next to him and I just plunked down and let myself sprawl across the grass nothing like the lady I was supposed to be. He grinned, as his hand touched my cheek.

“You happen to talk to the best of them.”

I turned my head and squinted against the sun, as I looked up to him. Margarete was right, you could mistake him for a fairy prince, he was so beautiful.

“Do I, now? That is interesting.”

“I could also teach you how to properly throw a knife.” His voice had a suggestive tone and somehow I liked that his way of flirting was telling me of all the ways he could teach me how to kill a man.

“We are a funny pair.” I grinned.

He weighed his head from side to side, then nodded. “You are probably right. But this will be what makes us successful. We are extraordinary, we are unpredictable.”

I hummed in silent agreement and closed my eyes, when he said:

“Father returned today, you missed the commotion back in the town.”

I sat up instantly. “What? What are you doing, now he is back?”

“Nothing. He is a loser. They say the Gods turned their back on him and they are probably right. And he smelled funny. The great Ragnar Lothbrok…he didn’t look that great to me.”

 *

 The people of Kattegat didn’t treat Ragnar too kindly. I could see that. Most of them were ready to follow Björn to discover the Mediterranean, but after Ragnar had kept the truth of what happened to the settlers in England from them, nobody trusted him and instead everybody was quick to believe that the Gods had forsaken him. When I met him, he seemed distraught, he was a man haunted by his own past. I felt pity for him, but I also understood that this was the man my husband wanted to make proud of him. This was the man, all the stories were about. And as always, the stories had become greater than the man himself. He asked his old friends for forgiveness, thanked his wife and ex-wife, he seemed to be a man determined to clear his conscience before he died, which made me nervous. I didn’t now why, but I felt like something was about to happen. Which was, why I was almost relieved when he left for Hedeby to ask Lagertha for her help in fighting the English. But then, he came back and what happened then was what had kept me on edge. I could feel the need to prove himself in Ivar. He had barely slept since his father had come to town.

Then, one night, just before the new day was dawning, I heard him crawl into our bed chamber. When I sat up, startled by the noise, he looked at me with gleeming eyes, bluer than usual. He looked so happy, so beautiful, it hurt not to be the reason for his happiness.

“Father is taking me on his raid to England.” He said and he grinned proudly.

I looked at him for a moment, my mouth agape, until I felt a tear running down my cheek. And another. I shook my head.

His eyes widened only for a moment, as he realised his mistake.

I hated to feel like this, I didn’t even know why I felt the need to cry. I had never felt the need to cry about anyone. His face became soft and he looked like he was going to cry, too.

“You promised…” I whispered.

Ivar gave a solemn nod. “I…I know. But this is it, Sif. I have to go. It is…”

I took a deep breath. “This is where our destiny is going to be decided. This is what it comes down to.”

He crawled over to me and heaved himself onto the bed and I let him. I knew I should be raging mad, I knew, I should tell him what a fool he was for following his father, but I did not have the energy to do so. Instead, I took his face in my hands.

“I should hate you for this, but I don’t. You are important to me, Ivar, I hope you know that. You might break my heart, but I love you.”

He shook off my hands only to grip my shoulders and pull me into a hard hug. I felt him shudder a few times. Then I heard his broken voice:

“I know. It is a pity our hearts break just as easily as my bones, but this is what I have to do. All my life, I wanted my father to be there and now that he is here, now that I finally get the chance to get to know him, I have to seize it.”

And I knew he was right. I could feel it like a shift in the air. The tides were turning, we were hurdling toward the great unknown. We sat there holding each other until it became light out. Ivar told me of his father’s plans, all the while I was making my own. As soon as Ivar left, I would see to my revenge. He would be gone quite awhile, I knew that. I knew that their travels would not go smoothly. It didn’t need a seer to know that, seeing the rowdy bunch Ragnar was recruiting and the ships they were supposed to be sailing on. But I also knew, he would survive. I couldn’t say how I knew, only that I knew. Maybe it was only hope. But I knew.

While Ivar was preparing to go to England, I made some preparations of my own. I did them in secret, because I knew Ivar still did not approve of me going to fight for what was mine. I was his now and he had to be enough for me. Our opinions on some matters differed greatly, and while it hadn’t posed a problem until now, it did on this one. His wife should not be stronger than him. And he hadn’t yet proven himself.

I followed them sometimes, watched them prepare, gather warriors, and dig up the treasures, Ragnar intended to bribe his men into going with him. Like a common thief, I found one of the chests Ragnar had hidden. I took enough to further my cause, but not enough for it to be noticed.

A few of my uncle’s men had arrived in Kattegat, to follow Björn to the Mediterranea, but I had managed to avoid them most of the time. When they held a sacrifice, which I would usually have to attend, I told Ivar that I was feeling unwell. He believed me, his griefstricken wife and for a moment, I felt bad for lying to him. He caressed my cheek and whispered, he’d be home as soon as he could. I hoped so, because I actually did treausure the moments I had left with him.

It was a couple of days later and I had just started on a new patterned cloth I was weaving, when Aslaug almost stumbled into the room. She looked distressed and close to tears. As she came closer, I could see that she actually had been crying.

“I had a vision, Y/N. I saw Ivar die in a storm after he left with Ragnar! I told Ivar he had to stay home, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Can you…”

When our eyes met, I could see her vision. It hurt me deeply, but I saw something in it, she didn’t see. This was not about Ivar’s literal death, the vision was about the death of the Ivar we knew. He had already started becoming who the Gods needed him to be. He channeled his strong head in ways to be more efficient in battle. He had tried to bribe a blacksmith into forging crutches for him, so he could walk. He was finding ways around his limitations. Ivar the Boneless wouldn’t be boneless much longer and this journey was one step on his path. I did not know which version of Ivar would be coming back to me, but as I touched Aslaug, I knew that I would be the only one of us who would be here to greet him. I quickly pulled back my fingers like I had been burned and as I looked at her with a frown on my face, Aslaug suddenly turned.

“I know! I won’t be around much longer. Don’t you dare tell anyone! I am still trying to find a way to get my head out of the noose.”

I took a step toward her and embraced her softly. “For all that it is worth, I am thankful I have met you, Queen Aslaug. And Ivar will live. He won’t be the same, but he will live. Sometimes our emotions just cloud the vision.”

Her cold eyes turned warm for a short moment, so short I almost missed it. “And I am thankful for the smile you put on my son’s face. He needs that.”

I gave a nod. “I will try to take care of him as best I can.”

She kissed my forehead. “It will be a long and hard journey for the two of you, but good luck.” And with that, she left.

 I stood beside Aslaug on the day Ragnar and his men left. Ivar made his way to me on his new crutches and even though I had seen him practice with them a few times, the effect of my husband standing tall in front of me never ceased to amaze me. He looked down at me and smiled.

“You know, I hate to leave you here, but I want you to have this.” And with that, he gave me a kiss and let a small bracelet fall into my hands. I looked up into his eyes and smiled.

“Then part of you will stay with me.”

He sighed. “How did the Gods find you for me?”

I shrugged. “That’s why they are the Gods and we mere mortals.”

And with these words, I watched my husband try to board a ship headed for England. As so often, he stumbled, he fell, but he got back up again. I closed my eyes and took Aslaug’s hand in mine. She squeezed it once, never even looking at me.

 The first nights without Ivar were cold and unsettling. Once again, I was alone in between half strangers. Also, I had dreams and visions, only I still wasn’t able to tell them apart. I saw the wide open sea before me, I was violently sick to my stomach, then a storm, the shores of a green island. Ragnar’s face, close to mine, the face of a baby, my family, me and my brother on our old estate. Then I saw the inside of a dungeon, a cage. I heard a language I did not understand. Then I was back in Kattegat, standing at the harbour, seeing a great fleet coming in. There would be lots of battles being fought over this city. It was time for me to go and fight my own.

A week after he was gone, I decided to see the Seer. But first I managed to set up a meeting with Margarete later in the day.

When I arrived at the small hut of the Seer at the outskirts of the town, I hesitated a moment before I went inside. Took a deep breath, gathered my courage. Then I went in.

He puffed out a breath. “Took you long enough to see me, though I suppose you don’t need my help to see the future.”

“No. I don’t.” I confirmed. I sat down in front of him. “But I still need guidance. I need… I need someone to help me with this…gift.”

He inhaled deeply. Then he sighed. “You may call it by its name; a curse. When I was younger, I thought it was a blessing. I thought I was being chosen by the Gods and it was a sign of their favour and therefore I was blessed. But, as it turns out, the chosen ones are the ones who have to suffer the most. Just ask your husband. He never asked to be chosen. And neither did you. But still, here you are.”

“So, it is true? Ivar will tear the world as we know it apart?”

“He will try to. But you know that already. He will achieve greatness. And he will bring on terrible times. But he will lead our people into a new era. How it ends, I don’t know. It lies in your hands.”

“In my hands? But what is my role in all of this? Why was I dragged into this?”

The Seer was quiet for a while. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. I cannot see you or your path. It might be because your fate is still undecided. It might be because you are not a part of this, only a guide for those who are navigating these dark waters. But it might also be, because you do not come into play for a long time. There is a veil of darkness I cannot cross, a veil I do not dare to lift. It is so dark beyond that I do not wish to see any further. If this is where you take over, I do not envy you. But you will have time, all the time you need to learn to trust your skills.”

“And until then?”

“Trust the Gods and the path they laid out in front of you. Walk it. The further you go, the quicker it will take you home.”

“I don’t understand…”

“And neither do I. So go. You make me uncomfortable, you feel like the end to me.”

I hung my head in silent tribute then left his house. It was weird to enter from the twilight of the Seer’s home into the bright light of day, but I knew I had other things to take care of. First, I had promised the fishermen to help them with their nets. In my hometown, fishing had a long tradition and the women had been in charge when it came to the equipment and its upkeep, so I had started to help the fishermen in Kattegat with their nets, showed them new tricks how to fix them faster or how to make sure they wouldn’t tear as easily. It helped me to think of other things and integrate myself into the society here. Aslaug didn’t like me mixing with the common people, but then again, she had never been the kind of woman to work with her hands. She had never needed to be.

Afterwards, I made my way to the place where I was supposed to meet Margarete. She was already waiting for me at the beach a safe distance away from the town center, away from prying eyes and curious ears. It was close to the training area, but as there were only a few men left in Kattegat to protect the city, the training grounds were mostly empty. There was a reason most of the men left weren’t on one of the two raids. Ubbe and Sigurd had stayed behind, but right now they were fixing the roof of the great hall. When they weren’t out raiding, the domestic tasks caught up even to the two princes.

Still, when I arrived, Margarete was already there, looking slightly on edge. She seemed pretty nervous these days, which made me wonder what she was going through. I knew, before I had arrived, Ivar had put her through a lot, which was why there was no love left between the two of them, but I had thought she would maybe calm down once he was safely away at sea.

“Y/N! There you are. I had already begun to wonder if you’d come.”

I smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I had to help the men fix their fishing nets first. They know how to bribe me into it.” I laughed.

“Seems like you fit right in here. You are no longer the strange outsider girl you were when you arrived.” I wasn’t sure if I imagined the bitter edge to her voice.

“No, instead I am now the weird girl happily married to Ivar. Isn’t life strange?”

She chuckled. “You really like him, don’t you? Who would have thought that someone could actually like Ivar the Boneless.”

“I… I do. He can be…difficult at times, but when you get to know him, he is a kind soul that has been through bad things. He can be friendly and loving. If he wants to. And if his defenses are down. He doesn’t trust people.”

Margarete looked at me slightly amused. “You look like you love him. There is this strange sparkle in your eyes when you talk of him. But I guess this is not why we are here.”

She might act like she was a little daft sometimes, but you should never let yourself fool into thinking Margarete was stupid. She knew how to play the survival game and she knew it well, which was why I had asked her here. If you had ambitions, she knew who to ask if you wanted to further them.

“And right you are. I have to ask you for your help and advice.”

She acted surprised. “Me? How can a simple slave like me help you in any way?”

“Margarete, you know people. You know their relationships and connections. You know who to ask if you wanted to…let’s say, gather a few good warriors.”

Margarete looked like she was thinking about something. Then she just asked:

“And what would you need a few good warriors for?”

I drew closer to her and then fiercly whispered: “Reclaim what is rightfully mine.”

Her eyes went wide. “Do you have designs of Kattegat?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know how Kattegat would be rightfully mine. I have no designs when it comes to this town. But I want to free my home town from the reign of my uncle. I know that he sent his best warriors with Björn to the Mediterranean. So this is the best opportunity to strike. This is my time.”

“You sound more like a man than a woman.” Margarete said, a little insecure. “And you are not supposed to leave Kattegat, Ubbe told me so. Ivar specifically told Ubbe to have an eye on you while he is away.”

I gave a nod. “First of all, I don’t care if I sound like a man. If my brother had lived, it might have been him to reclaim the seat as the Earl of Ripa, but my uncle killed him. As he killed my whole family in cold blood. I want my revenge. I want his head on the Headmeadow of Ripa. Secondly, Ivar almost drowned in a storm and stranded in England. He won’t be back for a while. And lastly, then you just can’t tell Ubbe until I am far enough away to be back before he can stop me.”

Margarete looked at me with a sly smile. “So, it is true. You can see the future. You do have visions?”

I shrugged. “I guess so. I still cannot control them, but sometimes I see bits and pieces of Ivar’s journey. Of his future, of Kattegat’s future.”

Her face turned soft. “Do you know how Hvitserk is doing? Is he alive?”

I noticed something. “I cannot see him or Björn directly. But I know that they are going to… they will be alive later on, so I guess they are doing well enough.” I was only able to see Ivar’s future. There were only few things I had seen that did not have to do with Ivar. What a nice twist of fate. But Margarete was relieved. Knowing that Hvitserk would return was enough for her.

“There are no men left in Kattegat. Those ready to fight are guarding the town. They will not leave now. Even the elderly and the injured have gone with Ragnar. You will not have any luck in Kattegat.”

“Is there anybody else I could ask?”

Margarete’s eyes turned dark. “There’s always Lagertha. But you don’t want to cross her. She’d have you dead within minutes. Also, there is no love left between her and Aslaug. Lagertha resents her for taking away her husband and her home. And then Queen Aslaug wounded her pride by doing the sacrifice for the departing warriors alone. Lagertha was furious.”

I sighed, but I also had an idea forming in my head. Lagertha probably understood my wish for revenge. I started to think it over, when I heard Margarete.

“But, Y/N, Ivar dislikes Lagertha. He won’t be too happy.”

“Well… as I said before, he doesn’t have to know.”

Margarete looked at me like I was crazy. “If there is one thing, I’ve learned, it’s that Ivar always knows. He just knows things, he sees things. I don’t know how he does it, but Ivar always finds out.”

I smiled. “Calm down, Margarete, I know how he does it. He listens to people. He watches people. He knows things because nobody ever heeds the cripple. Nobody cares enough about him to see him. Unless he seeks their attention, people don’t pay attention to him. Ivar has his eyes and ears everywhere. He trusts in people’s need to talk about others. And you, scared as you are, would tell Ubbe about this. And Ubbe would tell Ivar. But if you don’t tell Ubbe, Ivar will never know.”

Margarete smiled slightly. “What makes you think I only tell Ubbe things because I am scared? Knowledge is an underrated currency. People don’t pay it enough mind.”

“Well, you wouldn’t rat me out to Ubbe, if you didn’t have to.”

“What makes you think that?” Margarete seemed genuinely interested.

“I am your only friend here. The other slaves, they hate you because you are sleeping with the princes. They are jealous. The viking women will never see anything but a slave in you, even if you should become a free woman, they would never see you as their equal. Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd adore you, but there are a lot of things you cannot discuss with them. That leaves me. The other outsider.”

“But as you just said, you are an outsider as well. Some people fear you, others just dislike you. Many even loath you, because you are Ivar’s wife.”

“So, we need each other, don’t we?” I asked Margarete.

She seemed to think about it for a moment. Then she gave a small nod and smiled.

“It could be worse. At least you are not trying to get onto the throne of Kattegat.” There was something in her eyes in that moment that I did not like, but I decided to brush it away for the moment.

I smirked. “No, I got my own thrown to worry about. But tell me, how do I convince Lagertha to agree to something downright foolish?”

Margarete shook her head. “You don’t. She has to believe it is worth it.”

“So, how do I approach her? What is the best way to get in contact with her?”

“Well, probably Torvi. She is still in contact with her, because of Björn. I am meeting Torvi tonight, maybe you would like to come?”

I gave a nod. “Thank you Margarete. But remember, neither Ubbe, nor Sigurd can know about this.”

She smiled at me. “And they won’t.”

 *

 Torvi brought me and Margarete to Lagertha that same evening. They had urgent matters to discuss with Margarete, but I was not allowed inside to hear what it was all about, even though Margarete had asked for me to be present. Afterwards, as Margarete was led into a small house by Astrid, I was called into Lagertha’s home by Torvi. The two of them had been talking about private matters, but Torvi had probably told Lagertha that I had a request for her.

As I entered the room, Lagertha eyed me closely, she did not seem to trust me, that much was clear from the beginning.

“You are Ivar’s wife, aren’t you?” she asked, straightforward.

“I am. I was married to him after my family died. My mother had been a friend of Queen Aslaug once and she accepted me into their family.”

“So, you are indebted to Aslaug?” Lagertha asked.

“I would not call it that. She has made it abundantly clear that she had her own motives and reasons to get her crippled son married to me.”

“So, do you resent her for marrying you off to her crippled son?” Lagertha tried to understand how I felt about Aslaug, I realised.

“I do not. I do resent the way she did it, but I still have to be thankful for her taking me into her family.”

“Then tell me one thing: why are you here?” Lagertha asked directly.

“I wanted to ask you for a favour. I have been driven out of my home by my own uncle. He has killed my whole family and usurped my throne. I want to take back, what is rightfully mine. And right now, Ripa’s best warriors are in the Mediterranean with your son, leaving the city vulnerable to an attack. I am pretty sure the people of Ripa would welcome me back. All I need is a small force of warriors to kill my uncles and his fellow traitors who are left within the town.”

Lagertha had started to smile at some point. Her eyes glinted in the light of the fire place. “I have heard of that. I also thought they had killed each and every member of your family including you, little Ripa girl. But apparently you are harder to kill than they say.” She moved closer to me and looked deep into my eyes. It made me a little nervous, but I remained quiet as she continued: “You  remind me a little of myself. We are in the same position, you and I. So I feel your pain. I do believe your home belongs to you. And I would really like to help you, but what can I expect from you in return?”

“What do you expect from me in return?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Y/N, is your loyalty too much to ask? Once you are Earl of Ripa, you would make a formidable ally and I could use your support.”

I looked at her for a long time. If Lagertha decided to take Kattegat, I had to be on her side. I could not choose Ivar’s side and I could not stay neutral, I would have to fight with Lagertha. She knew all too well what she was asking, but then again, Ivar’s chances on the throne were pretty slim seeing that he was Ragnar’s youngest son and hadn’t I just told Margarete that I had no ambitions of taking Kattegat’s throne? I took a deep breath and quickly pleaded for a sign. Something to help me decide. Then I remembered one of the parts of my vision from our wedding. Ivar in an English city sitting in front of a chariot. Ivar would not come back to Kattegat to stay. Ivar would go back to England. I had known that all along. And if he was selfish enough to go back to England, I could be selfish enough to take back my hometown while he was away. I would be in Kattegat when he returned.

I answered Lagertha with a decisive nod. “I will be at your service if you ever need me. You can count on my support.”

It was the most selfish decision I had ever made, but I had to take what she had to offer. And I knew, were the roles reversed, Ivar would have done the same.

 *

 Ivar woke up in the middle of the night, screaming. He quickly looked around, but his environment had changed completely. He was no longer sitting in a longhouse at the coast of Denmark, but in a dungeon somewhere in England. His heart was racing and he felt like he had been fighting himself, but as his hand touched his left shoulder, it came away dry, not drenched in blood as he had anticipated. What had that been? It had felt like he had been there, riding toward the town, fighting off the small number of guards who were trying to hold him and the shield maidens at his side back. They were only ten, but they were good fighters. He looked at the shields they were carrying and saw that they were Lagertha’s warriors. It gave him a start. Why would he ride with Lagertha? He recognised two of the men they killed. They were his…no, not his cousins, but they were the cousins of the person he was riding…with, for a lack of a better term. It was as she had thought, all their best warriors had gone with Björn and there were only a few men actually resisting her ride into the city as they recognised her. When they arrived at the gates, they could hear a commotion, there were people fighting against each other between the people guarding the city, but not for long. The gate opened and they advanced up to the Earl’s estate with little to no defense. Only as they tried to enter the house, they had to fight for their lives. There weren’t many men guarding the Earl, but they were the best and the most loyal. He fought and he moved forward and as he finally locked eyes with his… no, her uncle, he could see the fear in his eyes. An arrow hit him, no, her, in the back of her left shoulder and as he looked down, he could see the tip pointing out of the front of her shoulder. She did not pay it any mind, instead raised her right hand and beheaded the man who had taken everything from her. As soon as he was dead, the fighting ceased. There was no point in fighting any more. She still turned around to kill the man who had shot her. After that, she sat down on the table, because it was the closest piece of furniture and she was exhausted, and broke off the tip of the arrow, trying to pull it out of the back of her shoulder. Then, a familiar face entered the room. Her old teacher. She broke into a smile, as she saw his friendly face.

“By the Gods, it’s little Y/N! She has returned!” he took her hand in his and led her out onto the market square, where he presented her to the people of Ripa. Many of them had already heard the news and cheered for her. Her old teacher raised her hand to the sky and spoke to the people:

“Greet your new Earl of Ripa, daughter of our former rightful Earl, Y/N!”

As he looked over the crowd, Ivar could feel something like vertigo. Her hand touched the wound in her shoulder and came away bloody. And then everything went black.

And Ivar had awoken screaming. He was screaming again, he was furious. How could she have done this? How could she have broken her promise?! He slammed his fist into the wall next to him and let out another frustrated scream. His wife was now the Earl of Ripa. Somewhere deep inside him, he was proud of her. But he was mostly furious that she hadn’t stayed in Kattegat with his mother as he had made her promise. Then again, he had promised her to stay in Kattegat as well, came the afterthought. Ivar acted self-righteous most of the time, but he knew that he had no right to be as furious as he was. But still, he was and he didn’t really know what to do with that emotion. Then he had to smirk. A broken promise for a broken promise, how poetic. He also knew, had it been him, he would have done the exact same thing. And suddenly he realised something else: he had just had a vision. He knew everything he had seen to be true. It excited him a little, but it scared him a lot. This was not supposed to happen, even if you were married, was it? He looked down at his shoulder and while it was not bloody, he could see that there was an angry red scar that hadn’t been there before. This was definitely not supposed to happen. He screamed again, but this time it was in confusion and fear.

Ragnar threw something at him across the room. “Why don’t you just stop with the screaming?” he murmurmed sleepily as he sat up and blinked into Ivar’s direction. Ivar could see the lines of age in his father’s face as he had never seen them before. Ragnar seemed wary and tired to the bone. It made Ivar worry. But then he shook off the thought.

“Sorry father, it is just…have you ever had a vision?”

Ragnar’s eyes grew sharper as he closely studied Ivar’s face. “Yes, a couple times. But you should ask your mother about that, she’s the seer.”

Ivar lowered his eyes and studied the floor. “I just had a vision of Y/N.”

“You mean a dream.” Ragnar smiled a patronizing smile that made Ivar slightly angry.

“No, a vision. She fought for the throne of her home town that had been taken by her uncle. She won.”

Ragnar made a face. “Good for her. I’d still say it was a dream.”

“Do dreams leave scars?”

“Do dreams…”, Ragnar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Do I really have to tell you at this age that dreams cannot hurt you?”

Ivar crawled over to his father. “Then what is this?” he pulled his tunic collar low enough for Ragnar to see the scar.

“That is a scar.” Ragnar answered simply.

“A scar I did not have when I fell asleep. Y/N was wounded during the fight for Ripa, she was pierced through the shoulder by an arrow. Exactly where this scar just appeared.”

Ragnar frowned. “That is... I have heard of it, but it was a myth. A legend Floki once told me. It was…” Ragnar closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What is it?”

“What has your mother done?” Ragnar asked slightly irritated.

“Nothing, it was a normal wedding ceremony. There was nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Only the two people who got married. Gods, Ivar! She bound your lives together.”

“Isn’t that what a wedding is supposed to be? A lifelong bond between to people?” Ivar asked, mostly to annoy his father.

“Yes, but not that literally! Your mother, she knew exactly who to choose. Ivar, you have no idea what this means. Not even I know what this exactly means. But your lives, they are entwined. You are two people living one life.”

Ivar laughed lightly, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do, how to react. “But surely there is a way to take this back?”

Ragnar shook his head solemnly. “The Gods have plans with the two of you. You will not be able to escape that truth.”

Ivar sighed. He had to talk to his mother, he needed to know if she knew what she had done and how to reverse it if need be. But for that, he had to get out of this filthy dungeon first.

[alteredphoenix]

cannibal demons (WIP)(Devos-centric)(WoW)

A/N: So I guess in the Altered Phoenix Time Zone, a few hours “on the backlog” equates to about three weeks lol sorry :V

Anyway, here’s a quick preview for what is, surprisingly, a short drabble, before I leave for work (new job!) and take the PC in to get serviced and, hopefully, repaired within a reasonable cost (damn thing can’t make up its mind between imitating a hamster wheel or a diesel truck). I’m hoping the problem with whatever’s making that sound gets resolved pretty quickly because I still need to finish this off, but I can afford to wait a little longer if it means I can concentrate in peace :V

-

In the moment it takes for Uther to loosen his grip on the agent’s throat and let his body tumble into the abyss, Devos almost considers reminding him of all the suffering that had been wrought with the power of the Maw and in the title of the dark master whose name was purged from the Shadowlands eons ago. That man had once been his student, his prince, a son he could call his own...but that was all he had been, and all that he was, until the day he took up that accursed sword and kicked off a campaign of cruelty and senseless bloodshed that caused a kingdom to fall and its ruler—the bastard’s own father—to be the first of countless casualties the blade would taste.

Who would find forgiveness in any of that?

No one, Devos thinks, wings twitching irritably. No one should.

You shouldn’t, Uther.

Remember what he did to you, she had said to him. Remember, and claim your vengeance. For what else could it be? Justice was Revendreth’s station; it’s their sacred duty to be impartial, rehabilitate, and determine where those stubborn souls would go next.

(Did it?)

Where those souls went was never really for her to question. Perhaps they would join the ranks of the venthyr to continue the cycle, or maybe they proved too evil and were sent to the Maw to languish for eternity. Perhaps they would return to the Arbiter to be judged properly and delivered to Ardenweald to be sleep and be reborn back to the world of the living, or join the Night Fae and profligate the routine. Maybe they would even go to Maldraxxus and pledge their loyalty to one of its five Houses—endlessly fighting, endlessly waking, as if they had never died at all.

(Like cogs in the wheel: spin, spin, spin, spin, spin.)

Perhaps these souls would be pressed into joining the Kyrian Covenant, and ascend as she did, following the Path set before them and the Purpose ascribed to all.

To forget everything they would know.

To be free.

(Of sin.)

Uther lets go—but not before correcting her. This isn’t vengeance he’s committing; this is justice. You needn’t a jury to conclude that there is no such justification to be found in genocide whatsoever.

So they watch the agent fall into the Maw., where the only sound to be heard in this Light-forsaken region of the Shadowlands is the black anima that slowly churns in a whirlpool like the eye of a storm. Face slack, arms dragged forward by gravity to reach out, he almost looks as if he’s flying.

At peace.

The air goes out of Devos’s lungs. Her wings cease their spasms and catch the thermal updraft, keeping her aloft.

There could be others, she realizes. Then: No. There are others—just like Uther...and him.

[doctorporkchop02]

PIGSTER'S UNDERSWAP BACKSTORY (V.1)

DISCLAIMER! This is the backstory for Pigster’s Underswap Take and Contains Undertale Spoilers… If you don’t want to be Spoiled, I suggest you finish Undertale First! Also Know that this is a ROUGH DRAFT of the story so It’s not perfect and can only be Improved from here.

Also I am Aware that Chara is acting a bit... Off... here but that's my mistake honestly, I'll try to improve the Dialouge for Chara and Asriel later...

And Again keep in mind that this backstory is kinda long but, yeah...

Anyway, without further ado, let’s get started…

UNDERSWAP

----------

Once upon a time… 

There were two races that ruled over the earth, Humans and Monster…

One day, war broke out between the two races and Monsters were sealed underground by a Magic Spell.

The Monster started to give up hope…

The King and Queen then had a child named, ASRIEL…

Seven… Seven Human Souls and one Monster Soul was needed to shatter the Barrier and break all Monster Free!!

MT. Ebott  20XX

And One Day, and Human Child fell down and managed to befriend the prince of monsters…

They became “Best Friends” and tried to think of a plan to free all monsters…

So the Fallen Child had an idea…

The tried to poison themselves with Buttercups and have ASRIEL absorb their SOUL. cross the barrier keeping them Underground with their fused Human and Monster Soul…

AND KILL MORE HUMANS TO GET MORE SOULS!!!

Well… That and the Fallen Child had one last request…

They wanted ASRIEL to leave their body in a field of Golden Flowers located in their old Village…

But this wasn’t good…

The Villagers started to panic and attacked ASRIEL due to them thinking that ASRIEL had murdered the Fallen Child…

ASRIEL being a GOD, could have easily fought back and killed those AWFUL HUMANS…

...But… He didn’t… the young prince refused to FIGHT…

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” “ATTACK YOU IDIOT!!” “HURRY UP AND START ATTACKING YOU TRAITOR!!” “KILL THEM… KILL THEM ALL!!! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE ASRIEL!!!”Said The Fallen Child…

But ASRIEL Refused and returned home and was fatally wounded…

“YOU REALLY ARE AN IDIOT, ASRIEL… YOU TRAITOR….”

So the dying Prince returned to the Castle he calls, “Home”, and the KING and QUEEN came rushing towards ASRIEL…

BUT THEN HE DIED AND HIS DUST SCATTERED ON THE GROUND AND ON ONE TINY GOLDEN FLOWER…

THE KING AND QUEEN HAD LOST TWO CHILDREN IN THE SPAN OF ONE DAY…

Grieving and Mourning over the Death of the Young PRINCE who was believed to be the angel that’ll break the barrier, The Monsters lost what little hope they had left…

The KING, not really thinking and in a blind rage…

PLEDGED WAR ON HUMANITY…

One by One, Every Human who Falls into the Underground would BE KILLED BY THE KING HIMSELF!!!

...SEVERAL YEARS LATER…

The Final Human Child fell into the Underground…

AND KILLED EVERYONE!!!

MERCILESSLY SLAUGHTERING ALL OF THEM…

ONE BY ONE THEY FELL…

Maybe it was for self defense…

Maybe out of them believing Monsters are MURDERERS…

OR MAYBE OUT OF BOREDOM…

The SOUL trait this Human had was DETERMINATION…

Their DETERMINATION Somehow Managed to reawaken the first Fallen Child’s Spirit and it also gives them the power to rewind Time or…

...RESET IF YOU WILL… 

...None of the Monster will remember them being being Murdered endlessly…

NO ONE!!! *Insert an Image of Sans here*

All except for Three people… The Murderous Fallen Child, The Original Fallen Child, and a TINY GOLDEN FLOWER, NAMED…

 F L O W E Y   T H E    F L O W E R ! ! !

After many RESETS and Endless Murder… The Killer corrupted The Ghost of the First Fallen Human and gave them an idea…

To Kill every Monster in their path and ERASE THIS POINTLESS WORLD!!

So they did… Multiple Times… in order to achieve a “PERFECT WORLD!!”

They Teamed up to Try and Get what The Fallen Human wanted...

But Flowey couldn’t stand it any longer…

Mercilessly getting murdered just for time RESET just so he could Die again…

-----RESET #10212015-----

It was THE END of another Timeline? Universe? Another World that was going to be ERASED!!

XXXXXX, finally made it to THE END… Everyone was dead… again…

“Now… LET’S ERASE THIS POINTLESS WORLD AND MOVE ON TO THE NEXT, PARTNER...”

But the Last Fallen Child refused…

“No? What do you mean ‘NO!?” This left XXXXXXX incredibly confused…

After all this random killing they did... 

After all these Worlds being ERASED without them refusing…

They decided they would refuse this offer NOW!?

“SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL!?”

XXXXXXX was about to hit the Literal ERASE Button but...

Until Out of Nowhere…

“XXXXXXX, I… I’m not going to just stand here anymore and just let you ERASE Worlds and make everyone Suffer!!!”

“And… W... Why… Do you keep murdering all the Monster’s in this God Forsaken World!?”

“I thought to myself, ‘No… this can’t be XXXXXXX doing this… they would never Kill people and try to ERASE the World…’ But…”

“When you kept saying ‘SINCE WHEN WERE YOU THE ONE IN CONTROL!?’ I knew who it was… I knew it was you, XXXXXXX…”

“...And I kept asking myself… ‘Why’... ‘Why would XXXXXXX Do this?”

“It didn’t make sense..”

“...and Now I question to myself…”

“Do… Do you even care about us at all XXXXXXX!?”

“You don’t have to Kill Everyone and ERASE this world if you’re trying to get something!!” Exclaimed Flowey…

“HEH HEH HEH...” said XXXXXXX.

“What’s so funny!?” Exclaimed Flowey.

“Heh heh… It’s just funny… hearing THAT… FROM A HYPOCRITICAL TRAITOR LIKE YOU FLOWEY… Or should I SAY… A S R I E L . . .”

“. . . . . . . . . . .” 

*Flowey went Silent…*

“Good, I thought you would never stop talking… now… IT’S TIME TO ERASE THIS POINTLESS WORLD ONCE AND FOR ALL!!”

“NO!!” SCREAMED FLOWEY!!!

Flowey pushed Chara away from the Button and the two formally Best Friends started fighting over the button…

… But something happened…

...The Two Managed to hit the Button at the Same Time and there was a Giant Glow of Light…

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO ASRIEL!?”

“Me!? I didn’t do anything!!!” Screamed Flowey.

“Oh! GREAT JOB IDIOT!!! YOU BROKE IT!!”

“YOU MESSED IT UP LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO YOU IDIOT!!”

“You know what? I Don’t even know why I wanted to be friends with you in the first place XXXXXXX, You excused me of doing stuff I didn’t even do, you threatened and murdered me… I…”

“I HATE YOU XXXXXXX, I’ll stop you from erasing this World, NO MATTER WHAT!!!”

“I’ll keep coming back and I won’t stop until I stop you for good!!!” 

“I don’t know how but I will, I’ll become the Savior of this world!!!”

“Even if it means I have to make some sacrifices, I’LL BE SURE TO STOP YOU AND SEAL YOU AWAY!!!”

“I   P R O M I S E ! ! !”

*The world was engulfed in light… But Something Happened…*

ASRIEL Woke up in his bed back at the Castle he was raised in…

He went downstairs and saw the QUEEN there…

How perplexing…

Everything in this world was different…

It seems that XXXXXXX and ASRIEL had accidently created a NEW WORLD… But except… everything was different… It seemed like… Everything was Swapped?

Everyone has lived Completely Different Lives…

The World was entirely different!!!

But How..?

...THE FALLEN HUMAN…

ASRIEL went out into this New world and search through many history books to find out if… “THEY"... were still alive…

It seems that… they were... 

The Final Fallen Human hasn’t fallen down yet…

. . .

“I must prepare for this.. I have to get ready…”

“I have to stop them…” said ASRIEL...

“IT’S TIME TO END THIS!!”

-----Mt. Ebott 21XX-----

The Final Human fell into the Underground…

And thus the Beginning of End…

Starts Now...

[verumcordibus]

@fclsusrex​

“Indeed, seems he doesn’t trust you from what you’re telling me. Not sure why he sees you this way as I don’t see anything wrong with you, you know me, someone’s gotta stand up for what is right and yeah, missed seeing you and Aegis also. 

Glad to see you’re doing well, keep on surviving Magia.”

Yozora replied as he smiled, glad to see his allies once again after some time as passed since they last chatted.

“Hmm, that’s right guess I didn’t really find the moment to tell you...” He muttered with a sigh, hoping that Yozora wouldn’t see him any differently once he knew.

“Apparently the main reason why my parents had me was to see if they could artificially create a mage. Clearly it worked...” Electricity sparked between his fingers for a few moments as it was his most mastered spell that he merely played with in his hands for a few moments.

“So here I am, a test tube baby born out of wedlock for the sake of science. Can’t get more shameful as far as he’s concerned.”