#the feasts of roses book | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

See No Evil, Hear No Evil {1}

Aemond One-Eye x deaf!fem!reader Summary: Love blossoms when you get to know the sweet man and not the cocky Prince. Warnings: fluff, Aegon being a predator, more fluff. I know lip reading is not easy or infallible but for this the reader is able to read lips almost perfectly. WC: 4.9k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

Couples were dancing around the space that had earlier been occupied by long tables for the feast, their joyous smiles twisting your gut with jealousy. No one would ask you to join them, not when you could not hear the very music that set the pace.

Returning your attention to the table that you were seated at, you watched the men and women intently. Some glared at you when they caught your eyes on them, waving their hand as if it could blow you out of sight and out of mind. Moving on to the next, you found a single blue eye staring back.

Prince Aemond. He was another social outcast, though his personality was as much to blame as the jagged scar that ran through his left eye. There was always a taunting smirk on his lips and a cold gleam in his eye, it sent the courtiers vying for the hand of anyone but him. Not even the power hungry, attention seekers dared to subject themselves to his viperous nature.

His brother captured his attention and whatever spell had kept you enthralled with his stare broke. The two Targaryen princes leaned together and Aemond’s lips pursed as Aegon spoke with nervous mannerisms that warned you they would have been whispering, but you could read his lips.

“There is something desirable about a silent woman,” Aegon said as his eyes flickered your way. “But I would do anything to make her scream.”

Aemond’s lips pulled back with a sneer before he answered, “I can only imagine the depravities that fill your mind.”

“I do not think you have the creativity needed to imagine them, little brother.”

“Thank the gods for that blessing,” Aemond said as he leant back. “She is too intelligent for you anyhow.”

“Intelligent?” Aegon rocked back with a laugh that drew the others’ attention to him. “She cannot hear and does not speak.”

Aemond turned his eye back to you. “Then she must see a great deal, for there is definitely intelligence behind those eyes.”

“Then I would face her down when I bed her.”

You looked away and wrapped your fingers around the silver goblet so they were occupied and the trembling was hopefully unnoticeable. You had expected no better of the eldest son of the King, he was known to stick his fingers in many pies - though sometimes he didn’t stop at his fingers.

You might have been deaf to the tales the maids spoke of as they prepared you but you saw everything from the tears in their eyes to the bruises barely hidden by their uniforms. Just the thought of Aegon even noticing you had a knot twisting in your stomach.

Pushing the velvet-lined chair back, you rose from the table and nodded silently to the sickly Viserys. He gave a weak dismal wave of his hand that rested on the arm of his chair and you pressed your fingertips to your chin in return, thanking him for permitting your leave. After flattening the layers of skirts that had creased beneath the table, you laced your fingers together and ignored the two stares that watched your retreat from the dining room.

The feeling of spiders dancing down your spine didn’t ease, even after you had snaked your way through Red Keep to the atheneum. There would normally be a maester wandering the quiet halls full of books, organising the rows into alphabetical fashion and finding requested pieces for others, but with the late hour it was empty.

The scent of dust and beeswax greeted you as you closed the door behind you. Someone had been waxing a leather bound book cover and the yellow bar had been left beside a half shiny cover as if they might return at any moment. Walking over to the small table, you opened the cover to see what the book was and found it to be a personal journal of Aegon the Conqueror.

Warmth touched your nape and your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath as you spun around, your legs tangling in the skirts and your hip hitting the table with a sharp jolt of pain. Aemond stepped back with a smirk, his hands raised in innocence that was betrayed by the amusement in his eye.

“Apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

You rubbed your palm over the bruise that would no doubt be forming and narrowed your eyes at the blatant lie. “I shall rephrase, I did not mean for you to get hurt.” Aemond’s smirk grew until his lips parted and his shoulders bounced with a laugh. “I know you can understand me.”

He reached for you and you froze at the closeness, and his scent that washed over you as his hair nearly brushed your cheek. He smelt of the woods you had run through as a child, pine and earth, fresh and rich. Then there was the fruity yet tarty hint of wine that followed as he exhaled slowly, as if he had taken an equally long inhale of the floral perfume you wore.

As quick as he had come for you, he was gone, Aegon’s journal with him and you let out a shuddering breath as you realised you were not the object he had been reaching for. He seemed to take pleasure in the confusion on your face as he smirked once again and tucked the novel under his arm with a mocking bow.

His eye lingered on your hip as he straightened. “Take care, milady.”

You could not breathe again until the door sealed shut but you no longer felt the calm that you usually found in the athenium, the books no longer welcoming as the tall shelves towered above you with their dark shadows. Angered by the effect Aemond had in your place of sanctuary, you swiped a book from the closest shelf and made for your chambers and the thick lock bolt that you could hide behind.

The courtyard was busier than usual as you took a seat on a stool against the Keep walls. The airy space had become a favourite place to sit since you were not allowed to leave the high red brick walls without an escort. Since this was not your House territory you had to rely upon King Viserys’ white cloaked guards but you did not wish to make a fuss so you had not utilised the soldiers.

The sky was blue and the clouds that had blanketed the city at dawn were quickly evaporated by the heat and it enticed many others to step into the sunshine. Pulling your small bound notebook from the pocket in your skirt, you unwrapped a stick of coal and looked around for something to catch your eyes. The twin guards, Arryk and Erryk, were huddled close as they entered through the gates and your hand moved across the page.

E: She paid another maid to leave last night in the cover of darkness. That is the fourth this month. A: What did you expect? Bastards don’t belong in the Keep. E: Someone needs to stop him. A: Careful, brother, what you speak could be considered treason.

They disappeared deeper into the Keep and you read over the dialogue trying to understand what they had been talking of when a shadow passed over the page. You slammed the book closed and looked up, momentarily blinded by the bright sun reflecting off the head of long silvery white hair.

The stick of coal had fallen to the dirt in your rush to hide the page and Aemond crouched before you to gather it, holding it out in his palm. Your eyes lingered on the calluses from hours of training and the thin scars that littered the skin that peeked out from under his tunic.

You had not seen him since the incident in the atheneum and you had forgotten the connection that had seemed palpable in the days gone by but now you were once again caught by his eye. You had failed to notice the flecks of violet in the pale blue iris when you last saw them but that was in a dimly lit room, in the sun they were almost iridescent.

It wasn’t until he took your hand and unfurled your fingers that you realised how long you had stared, breaking away with embarrassment as he placed the coal into your palm. The hairs on your nape rose under the intensity of the moment and you curled your fingers around the coal gently so as not to crush your writing tool. You slipped the coal back into your pocket and pressed your fingers to your chin.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a small smile. He reached for your face and your breath froze in your lungs as he ran his thumb softly across jaw. “Can’t have a smudge of coal hiding your beauty.”

You were certain you read his lips wrong but the flutter in your chest betrayed your common sense and a smile tugged at your lips. His eye followed the curve of your smile and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts before rising to his feet.

“Care to walk with me, milady?”

You could feel eyes on you as the crowd snooped to see why the One Eyed Prince would be talking to you. You had long ago learned to ignore the stares but for some reason that seemed a harder task today. Tucking your notebook away, you accepted his offer with a nod and let him lead the way to the Royal gardens that were usually off limits.

“I must admit, you intrigue me,” Aemond said after stopping beneath the weirwood tree and facing you. “You and your notebook that you carry everywhere.”

You automatically pressed your hand to the reassuring weight and frowned, wondering where this was leading to.

“May I see it?”

Your fingers tightened around it and you shook your head adamantly. A heat flared across your skin at the thought of him reading your notes and looking at the drawings that you attempted. He appeared within the pages far too often for your own liking.

“As prince, I could demand it of you,” he said as he stepped closer. The wind changed and caught his hair, flicking wayward strands over his shoulder and the scent of lemon verbena shampoo drifted your way along with the purely masculine musk of sweat from training.

You walked away, needing to clear your senses that he overpowered much like his very presence in the garden. The notebook suddenly seemed like an anchor and each step was heavy as you took a seat on the edge of a long bench in the shade. From the corner of your vision you saw Aemond sit at the other end, the entire length separating him from you.

Tap, tap, tap.

Your fingers tingled with the vibrations as they rested atop the bench beside your legs.

Tap, tap, tap.

You turned to face Aemond and found his smirk growing as he used his fingernail to tap and scratch the wood.

“You can feel that, can’t you?”

You nodded your head and his smile grew, transforming his face and erasing the harsh lines that were usually shaped with a scowl. You startled with the realisation that you found him handsome and your palms grew warm as you wiped them on your dress that was suddenly too heavy for the spring weather.

Tap, tap, tap.

You were pulled from your thoughts and looked back at the prince, hoping he could not see the effect he had on you but the intensity to his stare made you feel naked, as if every thought you ever had was laid bare for him to read.

His lips parted with a sharp intake and he leant closer, though he was still far from reach as he mouthed the word, “Beautiful.”

There was something therapeutic in being around the horses and you often found yourself wandering into the stables. The servants and stableboys no longer sent you odd looks as they grew used to your presence most days and you were grateful to be left in solitude as you combed the black and grey haired stallion that had caught your eye.

You had just placed the comb back on the hook that hung beside the gate when you felt vibrations in the wood beneath your hand.

Tap, tap, tap.

Stunned, you turned to find Aemond resting against the gate with a lazy smile on his face.

“I hope you aren’t planning on stealing my horse, gorgeous.”

You rolled your eyes and didn't dignify him with an answer as you reached into your skirt pockets and found the carrot you had stolen from dinner the night before. Aemond’s shadow followed you as he opened the gate and stepped inside the stall, his hand landing gently on your shoulder so you were aware of where he was, as if you hadn’t been keeping track.

“No wonder Storm was slow to gallop,” Aemond said as he faced you from the other side of his horse, his hand petting down the long mane. “You have been spoiling him.”

You kept your palm flat as you Storm’s lips pulled back and he greedily took the carrot. The name suited the horse with his colourings of the turbulent stormy skies and you scratched his ear while he finished his snack.

“As much as I enjoy hearing my own voice, there must be another way for us to communicate.” Aemond stepped around the front of Storm and you frowned as you no longer felt the urge to back away from him as you had in the past. “Teach me the signs I have seen you do.”

You were shocked by his request even though you knew him to be an intellect and a scholar, the fact that he spent so many mornings training to be a warrior seemed to fill you with the idea that he was more brute than student. Your nursemaid had been the one to help you create the secret language but it had never really expanded past what a child might need to convey. You had relied upon written communication but that was only useful with the highborns who were educated, unfortunately most of the servants were illiterate.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the notebook you were never without and tore out a blank page before he could see what secrets the book held. He watched as your handwriting sprawled across the page and you could see his chest bouncing with a laugh before he took it from you.

He slipped the note into the folds of his cloak with an amused smile, not at all offended by the message you had given him. You smell. Bathe first, then I will teach you.

“I shall meet you in the library, milady, after bathing of course.” He bowed at the waist though his eye never left you and you didn’t see the mocking smile he had given you the last time he had made the gesture. The pale blue orb seemed to zero in on the pulse at your neck, as if he could see how rapidly it raced in his intense presence. “I shall see you soon.”

Three Months Later

You had seen neither hide nor hair of Aemond as you strolled the halls of the Keep, the tourney for his brother’s name day was about to begin and you did not wish to enter the highborn box alone. Giving up hope on finding him, you followed the few other ladies who were late and slipped into the back row in the hopes your presence would go unnoticed.

The bench seat kept shifting as ladies rose with their garlands, tossing the favours to the lords who asked in hopes they might win their challenge with the luck. Each time they moved you cursed inwardly and settled your heart that pounded erratically, wishing the entire event be over with.

You were tracing the embroidered floral design on your skirts when a hand waved in front of your face and you nearly fell back in fright. The only person you knew it wasn’t was Aemond, he knew to touch your shoulder to get your attention so as not to give you a heart attack. Peering up as you clutched your chest, you found Lady Reyne looking apologetic as she pointed to the front where the jousting course was set.

Aemond sat atop his horse, patiently waiting with a smile as he caught your eyes. A thousand questions ran through your head as you rose from the bench and clutched the favour of woven asters and budding chrysanthemums to your breast. You could feel the eyes of the entire crowd following your steps down to the front of the highborn box and past King Viserys, but there was only one that held you captive.

“May I ask for your favour, milady?”

You nodded with a smile, grateful that you had taken his advice to make the flower crown. When he said that someone may ask one of you, your head had fallen back with a silent laugh before you shook your head, but he had insisted and you could not deny him.

Casting the favour out, it twirled down the length of his jousting pole until it reached his hand. His smile was brighter than the sun as he pulled at the reins of his stallion and made his way to the lists. His mother caught your hand with a gentle smile as you passed by and she patted the space beside her in invitation.

You ringed your fingers nervously as you watched Aemond’s armour shimmer in the sunlight while his horse paced, awaiting the drop of the flag to begin the match. Alicent placed her hand over yours, unclenching them and lacing them with hers as she fretted over her son. You could tell she liked the idea of seeing her son facing a jousting opponent as much as you did. You had seen the heinous injuries one could get in the sport.

Alicent patted your hand and you tore your eyes away from Aemond to look at her as she said, “He will be fine, dear. Aemond is one of the best.”

You nodded and hoped it looked reassuring before you noticed the flag drop. Aemond kicked his boots in the stirrups and his horse took off, kicking a spray of sand up behind him. You barely breathed as he raced along the fence and levelled out his pole, his opponent doing the same. Time seemed to slow as the poles crossed each other and crashed wood against armour, shattering into splinters.

The air in your lungs exploded from you as you jumped to your feet and rushed to the rail to see Aemond still atop his horse. His opponent was sprawled across the sand but Aemond paid him no mind as he circled back to the rail where you waited and pulled his helmet from his head before shaking out his long hair that was mussed up.

“Is your heart still in your chest?” Aemond asked as he looked up at you, amusement teasing a smirk on his lips.

You pointed to yourself and curled your fingers over your face before pointing to him, his lips parting with a laugh that shook his shoulders.

“Why are you mad at me? I won.”

Waving him off, you noticed the next opponents were arriving to request their favours and he shot them a dirty look as they interrupted you.

“Meet me in the library.”

You nodded and moved away as two ladies reached the railing, missing the smile Alicent had after watching the interaction.

The tourney would continue all day so it was no surprise to find the athenium empty when you arrived and took a seat on the plush settee. The stained glass windows cast a colourful shadow across the stone floor and you reached into your pocket for your notebook and coal to capture the image.

You were just finishing with the shading and smudging the shadows onto the parchment with your fingertip when you felt the air shift around your face. A smile was already pulling on your lips when you looked up to find Aemond dressed once more in his finery and his hair still damp from bathing. The citrus tart of his soap teased your nose and you reached for him as you closed your book.

He let you pull him onto the cushioned seat beside you and chuckled to himself as you ran your hands over his fitted shirt before he caught your hands. “I am unharmed.”

You narrowed your eyes at him until he released your hands to continue to make their own assessment. When you were satisfied that he was not just trying to placate you, you shuffled closer and slipped under his arm that he opened for you in invitation.

While waiting for his arrival you had been wondering how you could return the gesture he had made for you in front of the entire city and he could sense your unrest as you shifted in your seat. Unable to look him in the eye, you grabbed your notebook and placed it on his lap.

His fingers traced your jaw and turned you to face him so you could see what he had to say. “Are you sure?”

You nodded before you lost your courage and he carefully opened the bound covering as if it were an invaluable, fragile piece of history. He treated it knowing how you cherished it.

You did not look to see what pages he perused, some drawings and some snippets of passing conversations, but instead watched his reactions. With each turn of the page you knew what he would find and your nervousness grew. The drawings of Red Keep and the Royal Gardens would soon change and he would see himself through your eyes.

It had not taken long for him to become your muse, in fact in the last few months it had become an addiction. There was not a day that passed where you didn’t want to capture his likeness, sometimes it was when the sunlight caught his hair or the smile that he reserved just for you.

His lips parted with surprise and you knew he had reached the moment you had first given in to your desire and drawn him content in the gardens. Your palms turned clammy and your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest as he turned each page until he reached the last and closed it.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he turned to you and you saw his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Of all the reactions, that was not one that you could have expected. Aemond was always so collected and cool until you had peeled back the layers of his self-protection but this was the last mask to fall away.

You reached for his cheek, cupping the warm skin as you wiped away the single tear that escaped before he closed his eye and leaned into the touch.

“Thank you,” he said as he opened his eye again, blinking away the rest of the tears before they could fall. “No one draws my eyes.”

You frowned at the statement and he sighed from the heavy breath of air that brushed over your skin. “The artists who take our portraits do so from my right, this,” he tapped his leather eye patch, “makes them uncomfortable.”

Tears welled in your own eyes as you saw the pain he still felt though the wound had long healed. Though it was compromising, you rose to your knees and straddled his legs, shock flitting across his face before fear seeped in as you reached for the leather patch.

“It is not pretty, milady.”

You circled your palm over your chest and you thought he would deny your plea for permission as he pursed his lips but then he bowed his head with a nod.

His eye stared intently at you as you traced your finger over the leather that had been warmed by his body heat. The smooth material was softer than you thought it would be as you eased it from his head and bared his scar for the first time. Your breath rushed through your parted lips as you saw the crude line that had carved through his eyebrow, down his eye and across his cheek.

He turned away and your heart clenched as he hid himself from you but he had to know, it wasn’t the scar that caused your reaction, you were horrified at how he had been hurt so badly. Cradling his cheeks in your hands, you gently guided him back to you but still he refused eye contact.

There was only one way you could show him how you felt and your stomach fluttered at the thought as you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his cheek, just below the scar. His breath warmed your shoulder as he shuddered beneath your touch and you kissed him a little higher, grazing the skin that changed from smooth to raised. The tension in his shoulders relaxed with each soft kiss and when you pulled back you were able to admire the sapphire that replaced his missing eye without him turning away.

“Are you not repulsed?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you shook your head and stood up, instantly missing the warmth of his hands where they had rested on your hips. He watched curiously as you grabbed your notebook from where he had placed it and fished your pockets for the coal. Though you wanted to sit close to him it was not the right place for what you wanted to do and so you took a seat on the settee opposite.

Not liking how far you were away either, he tried to stand and join you but the stern finger you pointed at him had him sinking back into the cushions while you found a blank page. He remained still as you captured his likeness on the page and the colourful shadows of the stained glass window reached his hair.

You knew of merchants that could recreate colours with ochre and malachite collected from Essos but even with your family’s wealth the rare minerals remained out of reach. You were left with the common sticks of coal and on your name day you often received the finer illustrator of graphite.

Satisfied by the portrayal, from the long strands of hair that were now dry to the strong jawline that had felt better than imagined in your hands, you rose from the chair. Aemond welcomed you back into his arms and eagerly looked at the page that was still open. His throat bounced with the swallow he took and you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited with bated breath.

He turned slowly so you could see his lips before he spoke, “This is how you see me?”

You looked at the picture and smiled at the face of a confident, handsome young man as he faced the world without having to hide. Looking back at Aemond, you placed your hand over his heart and nodded.

His arms pulled you closer as he dipped his head and your body trembled in anticipation. Every nerve ending flared to life when his lips caressed yours ever so softly and your hands tangled in his hair as you returned the kiss with more force. You could feel his smile against you before he gave you what you needed and deepened the kiss, stealing your breath until you broke away feeling lightheaded.

His thumb traced your tingling lips as you slipped back into the seat, tucked under his arm, and you saw his kiss-swollen lips. You imagined yours looked the same and heat flooded you with the thought of being caught in the compromising state. A sliver of panic grew in your chest, if rumours spread then you would be shamed from your family so you scampered from the chair and brushed your hands over your skirts.

Alarm erupted from Aemond at the sudden change and he watched you right yourself, hurt haunting his blue eye before he too rose. “Please do not regret what we shared.”

You froze, your jaw dropping at what he had mistaken your fear as and against your better judgement, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his narrow waist as you shook your head. He curled himself around you until you felt entirely enveloped by his arms and his scent as he buried his face in your neck.

Pulling away reluctantly, he took your hand and placed it on his chest so you could feel the thunderous beat of his heart as it raced. “This belongs to you and I am yours if you will have me.”

His face blurred as tears welled in your eyes, the fierce nod of your head sending them cascading down your cheeks until he wiped them away with a proud smile.

“I thought of another sign,” he said as he lifted his right hand up so his palm faced you before tucking his middle and ring finger back down. “When you see this, know that I love you.”

You raised your own hand and watched his tremble as you admitted what had been growing with each passing day since that first walk in the gardens. I love you.

Click here for part two.

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond fluff #deaf!reader #aemond fic #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic

4K notes · View notes

aemondavenue · 1 year

Text

desolate {aemond targaryen x reader}

word count: 1.3k

parts: one | two

warnings: 18+. mentions of dub-con sex. toxic/unhealthy dynamics. angst. proceed with caution.

note: all grammar mistakes are my own. this ended up going differently than planned because i didn't want it to feel rushed. + part 2 is up!!!

Once a week, Aemond would bed you.

Ever since your wedding, now only a couple months ago, Aemond would come to your chambers when the hour was late and take you on your bed. Only to leave once the deed was done.

His orgasm would overtake him as if he hadn’t been chasing it in the first place. He had sex with you- no. He would fuck. This was somehow separated from you. This was his duty. His burden as your husband to plant you with his heirs. Your place as his wife was to take it and you did. This must be the truth of most marriage alliances, you thought. This was not the story that lied between the pages of the books on your bookshelf. This was your life. This was the order of things.

You didn’t know if you felt disappointed, you didn’t know if you were allowed to. You had married into a house more noble than your own. Every other perk of being married to a prince had fallen in your lap. People tending to you. Intricately tailored dresses. Glorious feasts. You could not have it all. You felt it was out of your place to complain.

One night you were called into Aemond’s chambers for the first time ever. He had never asked you to be brought to him, he had only ever come to you. You were getting ready for bed. You were dressed in your silk nightgown and your hair was released from the braids and pins from the day.

“Aemond,” you called out to him as the door closed behind you.

“Wife,” he sat in his usual seat facing the fire, back turned to you.

You padded over to him.

“You sent for me?”

“I did.”

You shrug at him and your eyes find a letter in his hand.

“Do your eyes wonder, wife?”

You grimace, “I’m sorry?”

He reads off the paper, “My mother’s garden is far from lacking, still, I do miss the smell of roses.”

You furrow your brows at him and at the mention of your preferred scent.

“Now . . . have you been seeking the company of other men?” he looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes,” you lie. What were you doing?

His eyebrows raised, he let out a dry laugh, and looked into the flames of the fireplace, “Hm . . .”

He shakes his head and says, “Get out.”

“Do you want to know what me and this man would do in each other’s company?” What were you doing?

“Get out,” he was looking at you now.

“Depraved things,” you whispered, eyes locked on him, feet planted to the ground.

“Get. Out.”

“And he would . . .,” you reached for the straps on your nightgown, the loose fit allowing the straps to come off your shoulders causing the silk to fall from your body to a pool at your feet, “touch me here-“ you channeled the best you knew from the novels tucked tightly into your shelves. You hand moved at a snail's pace towards your lower navel-

“That’s enough!” Aemond rose from his seat and took long strides towards you. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. His eyes burned into yours, seemingly unphased by the sight of you completely bare before him. Blinded by his rage.

You didn’t know what you were thinking. You weren’t. However, you knew you liked seeing him like this.

“Your lover’s head will be delivered on a spike to his family due morning. Do you understand me?”

You look up at him, jaw clenched, smile bright on your face.

“And I myself will deal with you.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” you tilt your head at him.

“What has gotten into you?!” he implored.

“I’m lying!”

He takes a step back from you, disgusted and obviously not buying it.

“I have lain with no other man, husband.” you shook your head.

He moves to pick up the letter, the paper crinkling in his fingers.

“On my mother, I haven't, you must believe me!”

He looks up at you then, eyelids heavy. He moves to throw the letter into the flames of the fire, watches as the parchment is engulfed by the flames, then turns to walk back to you. He grabs a firm hold of your jaw and pulls your face to look up at him.

“On your mother?” he knew you held such sayings with high reverence.

“On my mother, on everything. I am not aware of why he remembers my scent” you say with a now shattered veneer.

“Why do you forget yourself?”

“I liked for a moment that the idea of someone else claiming me would make you upset. I liked the idea of you fighting for me. I liked seeing you angry and that it was because of my doing. It makes me feel-”

“What? Amused?” he furrows his brows at you.

“Wanted. Aemond, it makes me feel wanted. Men writing letters to me is more indicative of your character than of mine,” you moved your arms to cover your body now, somehow feeling more naked, “does it not bother you, not that they want me, but that they see a gap in our marriage wide enough to prod at?”

After a moment you wait for him to respond, but there’s silence and you shake your head. You bend down to grab the nightgown at your feet and pull the straps back over your shoulders. You take one more glance at him before walking to the door.

“Wait,” he reaches for your arm. You turn to him.

“Sleep in my bed with me tonight,” he says.

When you don’t answer, he sweeps you up from your feet and carries you bridal style to his bed. After setting you down, he slings his trousers and tunic to his chair and crawls in with you. He lays his head on the pillow next to yours, facing you. You lay flat on your back staring at the ceiling. You could feel his eye scanning your face.

You thought about how silly it would sound if you explained to your closest friend that after this amount of time into your marriage, though short, you were just now laying in your husband's bed. You also thought about how he only did this after being threatened with the idea of another man wanting you. How you were only worth fighting for because another man deemed you worthy of doing so. You began to cry.

Aemond sat up and pulled you into his arms. He cradled you close to his chest as you sobbed. The only sound filling the room was your muffled weeps into his chest. He rocked you back and forth and pulled you tighter to him.

“I have wronged you,” he says.

You say nothing.

“I told myself that I was doing you a favor by distancing myself from you as we are not bound by love,” he said, “I created a sequence in my head: a marriage before the septon then a baby as consummation. My job as a second son, a pawn. My favor to you after our wedding was to make this process as stealthy as possible. My way of coping with that was to take the human aspect out of it. Remove the fluff. Make it impersonal. That was my mistake.”

“You don’t know how lonely it’s been,” you responded, voice quiet.

“I want to make it up to you,” he sounded desperate, “how do I make it up to you?”

“Time.”

“That’s all I need.”

“Effort.”

“Of course.”

“I would like you, for the time being, to make love to me instead of fuck me and it will be when I say,” you look at him.

“Okay,” he responds in a hushed tone, eyes darkening.

“Not now, another time,” you sigh, “but tonight you will hold me as we sleep and I hope not to wake up to an empty bed in the morning.”

He nods and lifts you to lay you back on your side of the bed again. You fall asleep with your back to his chest. This would be the new order of things.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd aemond

2K notes · View notes

greenwitchcrafts · 3 days

Text

May 2024 witch guide

Full moon: May 23rd

New moon: May 7th

Sabbats: Beltane-May1st

May Flower Moon

Known as: Bright Moon, Budding Moon, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Frog Moon, Hare Moon, Leaf Budding Moon, Merry Moon, Moon of the Shedding Ponies, Planting Moon, Sproutkale, Thrimilcmonath & Winnemanoth

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Taurus & Gemini

Nature spirits: Elves & Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Artemis, Bast, Cernunnos, Diana, Frigga, Flora, Horned God, Kali, Maia, Pan, Priapus & Venus

Animals: Cat, leopard & lynx

Birds: Dove, Swallow & Swan

Trees: Hawthorne & rowan

Herbs: Cinnamon, dittany of Crete, Elder, mint, mugwort & thyme

Flowers: Foxglove, lily of the valley & rose

Scents: Rose & sandalwood

Stones: Amber, Apache tear, carnelian, emerald, garnet, malachite, rose quartz, ruby, tourmaline & tsavorite

Colors: Brown, green, orange, pink & yellow

Energy: Abundance, creative energy, faerie & spirit contact, fertility, intuition, love, marriage, material gains, money, propagation, prosperity, real-estate dealings, relationships & tenacity

May’s Flower Moon name should be no surprise; flowers spring forth across North America in abundance this month!

• “Flower Moon” has been attributed to Algonquin peoples, as confirmed by Christina Ruddy of The Algonquin Way Cultural Centre in Pikwakanagan, Ontario.

May’s Moon was also referred to as the “Month of Flowers” by Jonathan Carver in his 1798 publication, Travels Through the Interior Parts of North America: 1766, 1767, 1768 (pp. 250-252), as a likely Dakota name. Carver stayed with the Naudowessie (Dakota) over a period of time; his expedition covered the Great Lakes region, including the Wisconsin and Minnesota areas.

Beltane

Known as: Beltaine, May day, Roodmas & Cethsamhain

Season: Spring

Symbols: Eggs, faeries, fire, flowers & maypoles

Colors: Blue, dark yellow, green, light pink, orange, red, white yellow & rainbow spectrum

Oils/Incense: Frankincense, lilac, passion flower, rose, tuberose & vanilla

Animals: Bee, cattle, goat & rabbit

Mythical: Faeries

Stones: Bloodstone, emerald, lapis lazuli, orange carnelian, rose quartz & sapphire

Food: Beltane cakes, cherries, dairy foods, farls, green herbal salads, honey, meade, nuts, oat cakes, oats, strawberries & sweets

Herbs/Plants: Almond, ash tree, birch, bramble, cinquefoil, damiana, frankincense, hawthorn, ivy, meadowsweet, mushroom, rosemary, saffron, satyrion root, St.John's wort & woodruff

Flowers: Angelica, bluebell, daisy, hibiscus, honeysuckle, lilac, marigold, primrose, rose, rose hips & yellow cowslips

Trees: Ash, cedar, elder, fir, hawthorn, juniper, linden, mesquite, oak, pine, poplar, rowan & willow

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Areil, Artemis, Cybele, Danu, Diana, Dôn, Eiru, Elen, Eostre, Fand, Flidais, Flora, Freya, Frigga, Maia, Niwalen, Rhea, Rhiannon, Var, Venus & Xochiquetzal

Gods: Baal, Bacchnalia, Balder, Belanos, Belenus, Beli, Beltene, Cernunnos, Cupid, Faunus, Freyr, Grannus, The Green Man, Lares, Lugh, Manawyddan, Odin, Pan, Puck & Taranis

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, creativity, fertility, lust, marriage, the otherworld/Underworld, pleasure, psychic ability, purification, sensuality, sex/uality, visions, warmth & youth

Spellwork: Birth, Earth magick, healing, health & pregnancy

Activities:

• Create a daisy chain or floral decorations

• Decorate & dance around a Maypole

• Set up an outdoor altar & leave offerings to faeries

• Prepare a ritual bath with fresh flowers

• Light a bonfire or candles & dance around them

• Set aside time for self care

• Gather flowers & use them to decorate your home or altar

• Prepare a feast to celebrate with friends/family

• Make flower crowns

• Bake bannocks, oat cakes or cookies

• Hang wreaths decorated with ribbons & flowers

• Plant flowers in your garden

• Start a wish book/box/journal

• Go on a walk & gice thanks to nature⁸

• Cast fertility or a bunch spells

• Fill small baskets of flowers & small goodies, then leave them on your friends/neighbors doorstep as a gesture of goodwill & friendship

Beltane is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature and is associated with important events in Irish mythology. Also known as Cétshamhain ('first of summer'), it marked the beginning of summer & was when cattle were driven out to the summer pastures. Rituals were performed to protect cattle, people & crops, and to encourage growth. (Today, Witches who observe the Wheel of the Year celebrate Beltane as the height of Spring.)

Special bonfires were kindled, whose flames, smoke & ashes were deemed to have protective powers. The people and their cattle would walk around or between bonfires & sometimes leap over the flames or embers. All household fires would be doused & then re-lit from the Beltane bonfire.

These gatherings would be accompanied by a feast, and some of the food and drink would be offered to the aos sí. Doors, windows, byres and livestock would be decorated with yellow May flowers, perhaps because they evoked fire.

In parts of Ireland, people would make a May Bush: typically a thorn bush or branch decorated with flowers, ribbons, bright shells & rushlights. Holy wells were also visited, while Beltane dew was thought to bring beauty & maintain youthfulness.

• The aos sí (often referred to as spirits or fairies) were thought to be especially active at Beltane. Like Samhain, which lies directly opposite from Beltane on the Wheel of the Year, this was seen as a time when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. At Samhain the veil between the worlds of the living & the dead is thin enough that we can connect & convene with our beloved dead, here at Beltane it’s the veil between the human world, and the world of faeries & nature spirits that has grown thin. Offerings would be left at the ancient faerie forts, the wells and in other sacred places in an effort to appease these nature spirits to ensure a successful growing season.

Some believe this is when The Goddess is now the Mother & the God is seen as the Green Man or the wild stag. It celebrates the symbolic union, mating or marriage of the Goddess & God & heralds in the coming summer months. It represents life rather than Samhain on the opposite side of the Wheel of the Year.

Other Celebrations:

• Rosealia- May 23rd

Rosalia or Rosaria was a festival of roses celebrated on various dates, primarily in May, but scattered through mid-July. The observance is sometimes called a rosatio ("rose-adornment") or the dies rosationis, "day of rose-adornment," & could be celebrated also with violets. As a commemoration of the dead, the rosatio developed from the custom of placing flowers at burial sites. It was among the extensive private religious practices by means of which the Romans cared for their dead, reflecting the value placed on tradition (mos maiorum, "the way of the ancestors"), family lineage & memorials ranging from simple inscriptions to grand public works. Several dates on the Roman calendar were set aside as public holidays or memorial days devoted to the dead.

Roses had funerary significance in Greece, but were particularly associated with death & entombment among the Romans. In Greece, roses appear on funerary steles & in epitaphs most often of girls. Flowers were traditional symbols of rejuvenation, rebirth &memory, with the red & purple of roses & violets felt to evoke the color of blood as a form of propitiation

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

252 notes · View notes

mrscarmenbearzatto · 3 months

Note

Imagine you and Spencer not knowing how to celebrate your first Valentine's together! He just shows up with roses like "I think this is what I'm supposed to do??"

oh my gosh yes!! hope this is good my love ʚɞ - wc: 357 | nav post - request guidelines

The knock on your front door was unexpected, to say the least.

You'd been getting ready for work that morning, preparing yourself for the FBI office to been decorated with the same string of hearts hanging from pillar to pillar, Penelope spoiling everyone with flowers and wearing her favorite heart patterned dress, forcing you to wear the silly heart headband she adored seeing you in. It was tradition, after all.

But, this year was different. This year, you and Spencer Reid were an official couple. That meant something, apparently, and Valentine's Day was apparently supposed to be different for couples. Which is probably why Spencer was now at your door with roses. Lots of roses.

"Hi." You greet hesitantely after opening the door to say hi to him, when he pulled the roses out from behind his back. "Hi. I texted Garcia since she's the one who told me about couples and Valentine's Day which didn't even start as a celebration of love- actually it started as a celebration of the Feast of Saint Valentine which fell on February 14 after the pope declared it so.." He stops himself. ".. I got you these." He holds the flowers out.

You give a small smile, taking them. "Thank you, Spence, they're.. they're gorgeous." You grab a vase and quickly fill it to water, setting the roses in them and placing it on your dining room table as you grab your bag and a box. "I got you a gift, too. They're not flowers but, I thought of you."

He opens the lid, laughing, holding up a heart tie first then the book: "The History of Valentine's Day."

He smiles, pressing his lips against yours for a quick yet still sweet kiss. "Happy first Valentine's Day." He whispers against your lips. You grin. "Happy first Valentine's Day to you, Spence. You did good." You say softly back, as he laughs again.

He takes your hand in his, waiting for you to close and lock your front door, before he walks with you to the car. "Garcia's really gonna love the tie." He says, making you giggle (which makes him smile).

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! shine on, shine on!

- mae:)

#maeberzatto #mae writes!#mae writes: criminal minds #mae has mail! 💌#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

319 notes · View notes

teabutmakeitazure · 25 days

Text

Roll A Die, Roll A Poison - Evocation and Provocation

>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader

>Word count: ~2.4k

>a/n: before anyone asks, no this isn't a series. I'm just writing a drabble from the same universe this is not an established series. very subtle yandere themes. just wholesome in general. the backstory of this in my mind is not so wholesome

Part 1

Intrusive thoughts typically pop in uninvited and leave just as so. You do not let them stay for long lest they marinate and tempt you to cook them to feast on the ‘delicious’ outcome. However… however, this one has been festering in your mind ever since it made itself known. It has started rotting and mould is certainly growing on it, yet you are still allowing it to decay in your mind, waiting for the opportunity to let it seduce you into throwing it onto the grill.

You shamelessly pin the blame on Aventurine. After all, he was the one who said he’d like to experiment hairstyles on your hair, even going as far as to open video tutorials and search appropriate hairstyles for your hair texture. Unfortunately for him, the moment the blond took off his gloves, you had grabbed your hair protectively and uttered something about not trusting anyone with your hair.

Conveniently ignoring the fact that you were invested in which video tutorial he should follow, you declined his offer with a plethora of silly excuses (seriously, why did you say you’re afraid he might end up tangling it horribly? he treats his hair like his first born child he is obviously not so stupid as to do so). Having been let off the hook graciously by your captor unwilling living partner, you had carried on your merry day completely oblivious to the thoughts silently crawling from the dark in your mind.

Now you are here. Side eyeing him as he sheds off his fur lined coat followed by his hat. He turns around, looking at you as he discards his rose coloured sunglasses. The former two are placed onto a chair while the latter is placed on top of them. Irises more vibrant than those glasses remain fixed on you, and you grimace at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile.

That never happens outside these four walls. He never smiles like that outside.

Though you are lying on the bed with a book lying open over your chest, he makes no move to turn the situation into something intimate. Perhaps all his previous failed attempts have finally taught him something. Or maybe he’s just enjoying the view of you on his bed. He’s a simple minded creature after all.

Aventurine chuckles when you continue giving him a weird look. “You look relaxed.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Ouch.” He turns to the dressing table. First he takes off his wristwatch then his rings. The other accessories follow, and you strike when he least expects it.

“Aventurine,” you call, “I need something.”

He turns to face you instantly instead of looking at your reflection in the mirror like he usually does. At first he searches your face for any hints of what your request could be, yet his gaze drops to the cover of the open book lying on your chest. You close it and place it beside you face down promptly, cheeks burning because it’s one of those smutty romance books that he absolutely does not need to get access to.

Aventurine raises a brow at your antics, but humours you nonetheless. “This is rare. What would a beautiful woman like you need? I hope I’m not lacking in taking care of you.”

“I do agree that your knowledge is lacking in regards to women, but my request is… well, not something typical of me.”

He grows more curious, moving to the foot of the bed as he undoes his thigh garter before moving onto his belt. The two are placed onto the bed before he urges you to continue.

A nervous gulp precedes you voicing your request. The edges of your lips are stopped from scowling at yourself. “I need… I wish to have some time with your hair. There’s something I wish to try out.”

The reaction you receive is him unbelievingly blinking at you. His hands remain over the buttons over his waistcoat, frozen with twitching fingers. “My hair…?”

You sit up, nodding. He recovers quickly, clearing his throat. “My, that’s forward of you. What do you wish to do with it? You aren’t planning to turn me bald, are you?”

“As hilarious as that would be, no.”

“Then?” The waistcoat is unbuttoned, and he is currently shrugging it off. “If I am going to give you some time alone with my hair, it’s only fair I know your intentions.”

You swallow your pride, cursing yourself for tossing such rotten food onto a skillet. “I… I just want to braid it.”

Aventurine looks at you.

You look at him.

Aventurine continues looking at you.

You look at his waistcoat halfway down his arms.

Aventurine blinks at you.

You do not blink back.

“Is that it…?”

You nod at his question, and he clearly looks like he’s holding in a laugh. “My my. You’re being bashful as though you’re asking me to marry you,” he grins.

“This is worse than marrying you.”

“I’m glad to hear you changed your mind on nothing being worse than being mine forever.”

A glare is directed his way. His ability to remember your words is downright disturbing. Nevertheless, he places his waistcoat on the bed before crossing his arms. That damned smile is back on Aventurine’s face. The smile he has when he’s brewing something in his mind. Something that you would definitely not want to ingest.

“On one condition,” he raises a finger. “I want something in return.”

You raise a curious brow. “What would that be?”

A response is not given right away. Instead he peels off his gloves, placing them next to the waistcoat on the bed. Then, he tilts his head at you before voicing his price. “I want a kiss. On the lips more specifically.”

To say you choked on your words would be an understatement.

He taps his lips with his bare hand, and you make a horrible cringing face. “With tongue would be preferable.”

You shake your head profusely at his demand. What does he take you for? “Absolutely not. Anywhere but your lips is fine. Don't make me regret trusting you enough to ask you for something.”

“Aw.” Aventurine visibly deflates, eyes falling to his discarded waistcoat on the bed. “We've kissed before. I didn't think… wait. You said anywhere but my lips.”

A different meaning of your words comes to mind, and you slap your palm over your mouth in horror. If that devious smile on his face is anything to go by, he's having ideas. “No. Don't get ideas. I do not mean what you think I mean.”

“Relax. So no kiss?”

“No.”

“Not even if I bat my eyelashes all pretty?”

“No.”

He sighs, loud and dramatic on purpose to rile you up. “I still remember the last time we kissed. It felt like you were eating my insides.”

“You had forced it upon me by kissing me first,” you accuse. “I know your games now.”

A finger points in your direction, accusing yet remindful. “I admit I kissed you first, but you kissed me back harder. You were the one who started using your tongue.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing! Don't compare that to now.”

Aventurine sighs wistfully, as though he’s remembering a fond memory. To him it is, but to you it is not. “Don’t be shy,” he coos. “I remember. We were alone, and you were absolutely into it.”

A phantom sensation of his hands all over you returns, the image of his eyes seemingly more vibrant before he closes them and kisses you again accompanying it. It heats your cheeks and renders you unable to hold eye contact with him. Regardless, you clear your throat and try to negotiate again.

After what seemed like forever, he finally settles with a kiss to the cheek as his payment (he declined your insistence to kiss his hand instead). Alas, Aventurine had another demand. To receive his payment after you’re done with his hair. Which brings you here.

He sits cross legged on the bed while you remain kneeled on the mattress behind him. It’s hard to braid his hair. The longer parts are uneven since it’s longer on his right, so you thought you would attempt a messy bun with whatever braid you could make. Unfortunately, that did not work out. The layers poked out and it was mostly just hair poking out and less braid.

A sigh and you try again. “You good back there?” Aventurine’s question is shut down with a harsh ‘shush’ and you return to your battle. Out of pure frustration, you grab the brush and brush back all his hair despite the tangles and the way his head gets pulled back with it.

“Hey, be gentle!”

You simply tut. “This is how mothers make their daughter’s hair in the morning before school. This is a core childhood experience recreation. Savour it while it lasts.”

The pout is evident in his voice. “You’re simply making excuses for being rough.”

All of his hair is grabbed into a half-assed ponytail. Bangs are still poking out and a lot of layers from the side are too short to even be grabbed into it. Seriously, how intricate is his hairstyle? How does the barber even maintain this?

You let go of all of it. Fingers shake the hair to let it settle according to his natural hair pattern, and when you’re satisfied, you pick up a small section from near his bangs. You don’t grab all his bangs, only incorporating some of them and leaving the rest to frame his face.

An idea pops into your head, a good one this time thankfully, and you start creating a dutch braid from there. When you reach the nape of his neck, you realise your mistake and undo the braid just an inch. Then, you try to incorporate the longer strands of his hair into it, yet when it simply pokes out instead of being tamed, you settle with ending the braid at his nape with a low ponytail.

The braid is loosened a little for volume, but you retract your hand when a few strands start poking out. He’s been surprisingly quiet, you note. However, one peek at his face and you see that his eyes are closed.

They instantly open, already side-eyeing you.

“What the hell!”

He chuckles. “What?”

“That’s creepy! Don’t do that again,” you grimace. Aventurine doesn’t seem to mind. He even seems amused.

“So,” he drawls, “may I see the finished product?”

You take a good look at your work. Honestly, his hair is so soft and pretty you’d ask if he could grow it out a bit just so you could braid it more freely. You wouldn’t of course, but it doesn’t hurt to think about it.

You dismiss him, “You’re free to look in a mirror.” As expected, he gets up right away, going to the dressing table and looking at himself with widened eyes. He inspects your work, fingertips gently running over the braid trailing from near his hairline to his nape. The hair in a ponytail is brought to drape over his right shoulder, and he smiles, satisfied.

More of his face is visible with the wispy bangs, but you have to admit. He looks gorgeous. It’s almost unfair that he’s pretty.

“Now then…” Aventurine turns to you, a smile on face as he continues. “My payment for allowing you to have your way with my precious hair.”

On the other hand, you sigh. “I make you pretty and work hard, yet I still get punished. Where’s the worker’s right’s association now?”

“Gone. Decimated. My kiss, dear. Now.”

Your curiosity has led you to this. As you slowly get off the bed and move closer to him, he watches you with attentive eyes. It is when you stand in front of him that he smiles, body language obviously impatient.

Out of simple desire to be generous, you first cup his face then dive in to kiss his left cheekbone. When you pull away after the quick peck, you’re surprised to see his cheeks slowly turning red.

You blink at him in disbelief. “Are you… are you blushing?”

Unfortunately, he recovers quickly as always, deflecting it to you despite his flustered face. “The woman I love just kissed me. Of course I’m going to blush.”

Now you are at the receiving end of embarrassment. It’s unfair. It’s so unfair how he’s still able to stir up feelings within you. It’s unfair how you still care about him. It’s unfair how you can’t let him leave the house without having a proper meal, and it’s unfair that you still send him the same “stay hydrated” sticker on his phone everyday when he’s not around you.

It’s unfair because you want to hate him so bad for what he has done, but you can never forget the questions he used to ask you whenever you both spent time together. They were hushed and quickly brushed off, deemed insignificant after you gave your answer and dubbed “just messing around”. You can never forget them because you know he meant them.

He meant every single one. He just didn’t want you to peel away the layers of his person.

“Woohoo. Aventurine to [Name]? Is there still a signal?”

You snap back, gaze rising from your feet to his face. “Wow, I really lost you there,” he says. “Come on. The kiss wasn’t that bad.��

“You’re right,” you breathe out. After a few seconds of thinking, you excuse yourself. However, as soon as you are out the door, Aventurine’s concern turns into curiosity as he promptly grabs the book you were reading earlier off the bed. A picture of its cover is snapped, and it is placed onto the nightstand.

Unbeknownst to you, Aventurine downloaded a pdf and started reading. Not without taking a picture of your master hairstyling skills of course. While you were regaining your bearings in a different room, he had been searching up summaries and key events of the book.

Perhaps you might be in for a different game next time.

#yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

356 notes · View notes

oldschoolfrp · 3 months

Text

For living ye olde lifestyle: To the King's Taste, Richard II's book of feasts and recipes adapted for modern cooking, Lorna J Sass, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1975. Most recipes are taken from the fourteenth-century Forme of Cury and include "a Brie and egg tart, a fruit and salmon pie, parsnip fritters, an elderflower cheesecake, stuffed loaves, spiced wine, rose hips in wine with almonds."

#cookbook #medieval #Lorna J Sass #food #SCA #food history #Lorna Sass #To the King's Taste #Richard II #14th century #Forme of Cury #medieval literature

209 notes · View notes

kohabielnin · 3 months

Text

Valentine Day Headcanons

I know it took me a while to do this, as classes make it a little difficult for me, this is another gift for someone very special to me, the @kaval0 💕

Norton Campbell

• Incredible as it may seem, he remembered the date and was prepared days before as he saw the children arranging things to give gifts to those they like,

• Everyone in the mansion was surprised when he handed you a flower and chocolates,

• Naib stole some chocolates just to tease Norton, as usual,

• His embarrassed look when he handed you the chocolates was really cute,

• Both Melly, Frederick and Alice wondered if he was actually sick,

• In general, no one in the mansion expected Norton to give you chocolates

Ronald of Ness

• He closed the theater so he could have time with just you,

• I always saw this skin as one of Norton's most romantic skins because he's an actor,

• This man is not very good at cooking, so the one who helped him with everything was Lady Truth,

• He compares you all the time to flowers, especially roses,

• For a whole day, you can wear his hat and mask,

• He called Mr. Inference to boast that he had company on Valentine's Day...

Naib Subedar

• You two ate the chocolates together, it was cute according to witnesses,

• He worked hard to make the chocolates and even harder not to eat them 💕

• Norton played little a with Naib, but he didn't care and ignored Norton,

• He was a little shy when it came to handing over the chocolate, as he had never done it before,

• Eli helped him have the courage to go talk to you and Brooke watched so Naib didn't give up halfway,

• Spending Valentine's Day with him was definitely a lot of fun

Morningstar

• He made his servants make a feast just for you,

• He just loves spoiling you, whether it's a holiday or just a regular day,

• There isn't a day that goes by that he doesn't say he loves you out of fear of losing you,

• He made you a crown similar to his as a gift,

• He himself searched the entire kingdom for the most beautiful rose so he could give it to you,

• In general, Morningstar is a sweet, beautiful, perfect and sweetheart

Orpheus

• This man simply wrote the most romantic poem you've ever seen in your life, along with flowers and chocolate,

• Guess who had a pinky in the middle of one of the letters you received? Exactly, Little Girl,

• You two had a great day together,

• He took the day to listen to you talk about the books you like while giving your opinion about them too,

• He is very good with words, so sometimes he would say something or other to embarrass you, like a compliment in French that he learned from Frederick,

• There was no shortage of tea and cookies in the afternoon for you two

Bonus due to our zap/discord ship in which I am Frederick

Frederick Kreiburg

• Ok... you woke up hearing him playing your favorite song on the piano,

• If you ask him about this, you will only hear: "I feel like playing this song", with an indifferent pose as always,

• On the coffee table, there is a plate with some strawberries covered in chocolate and a handmade letter from him,

• He has a slight difficulty being romantic, but his small acts show that he cares a lot about you,

• He won't mind spending the day playing the piano for you if you wish,

• If you don't want him to spend the day playing the piano for you, he won't mind taking you somewhere relaxing with few people

#identity v x reader #naib subedar x reader #norton campbell x reader #ithaqua morningstar #ithaqua x reader #orpheus idv x reader #norton campbell ronald of ness

188 notes · View notes

demonicbaby666 · 4 months

Text

The Couch

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Supercorp

Genre: Fluff and eventual smut

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, Kara being an absolute cutie ig, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation (it's unintentional)

Summary: Just two friends casually sleeping together far too regularly on a worn-out couch. What could go wrong?

A/n: She’s not perfect, but it’s been a month and I desperately needed to get something out there! Promise to be more on my writing game. Also a big thank you to my wife @hotchscvm for being my beta reader and hyping me up <3

The first time was an accident. After too many potstickers (on Kara's part) and too many pages read from her spell book (on Lena's part), they'd ended up on the couch, dozing side by side. In retrospect, it was late, and while staying up to spend more time with each other sounded like a good idea, it probably would have been a better idea to host the impromptu feast at one of their apartments. But that is neither here nor there because the fact still remained: they'd always feel so at home with each other that falling asleep on concrete would probably come as easy as it would a plump mattress.

Sometime in the night, Lena had managed to topple over on her side, taking her best friend down with her, and either Kara was too exhausted to care or too sleepy to notice because the half-arsed excuse of a cuddle was taken in kind with one muscled arm slipping around a curved waist. Kara had never shied away from intimacy, especially with Lena, but as she groggily slung her arm around her best friend, happily snuggling into her fragrant neck, the beginnings of something very not platonic began tampering away in her chest. It all felt daunting, yet wonderfully and irrefutably natural.

Everything was all well and good for a while. They both slept better than they had in weeks. That was until a few hours later, when the sun had just started to peak over neighbouring spires, and the pair rose from their sleep to discover the true meaning of back pain. Of course, neither pointed out that if they had gone home rather than finished the duration of their uncomfortable slumber in each other's embrace, the agony would have been much more manageable. Still, once again, this was never mentioned. Instead, Lena took to teasing Kara about the drool drying at the corner of her mouth, and Kara's rebuttal was to mention the bird's nest atop Lena's head.

The second time was a week later when Kara returned from a nightly patrol to find Lena snoozing alone. The brunette had taken advantage of the couch's full length; her legs bent to accommodate the sparse leg room, and she had a cushion wedged under her head that had definitely seen better days. Other than that, Kara was reasonably convinced Lena seemed comfortable. Kara did try not to stare, but after minutes spent wandering about and trying to find something to do, and there definitely was bound to be something if she was actually looking as hard as she had convinced herself she was, Kara relented and returned to Lena.

She watched as the brunette's chest rhythmically rose and fell, how her mouth was slightly parted to allow tiny sighs to tumble out, and couldn't help but smile as her chest warmed at the sight of the way Lena had her arm flung over her forehead, hand flying over the side of the couch. It was a sign, Kara recognised, that meant Lena was, for once, having a rested sleep rather than the usual - broken and fragmentary. That was why she told herself she didn't wake her or risk it by flying her home. There was nothing selfish about it. In fact, she was being selfless by relishing the notion she was probably one of the very few people who got to see Lena that way - open and bare, not always on guard or the look for any sign of danger. Of course, Kara saw glimpses of it when they were together, but it was rare. So, getting to truly see Lena when she was so unguarded was remarkable in Kara's eyes.

It felt right when she walked over and knelt beside the roughspun fabric of the couch to get a closer look, like there was some injustice to picking out the details of such a pretty picture from afar that had been corrected. Now, if it had been anyone else, Kara would have worried her behaviour was bordering on creepy. Still, it was Lena, her Lena, and simply listening to that strong, steady heartbeat warmed Kara's chest. It quieted all the clattering and commotion of National City. The conversations, the arguments, the music, the car engines, everything fell silent to Lena's familiar heartbeat, and Kara would be damned to ever apologise for finding calm in that, so she continued to watch. That, she could admit, was selfish.

As much as sleep may dull one's senses, Lena was becoming keenly aware she wasn't alone. Usually, her first instinct would be to fight, but when she blinked her eyes open and was met with the human version of a golden retriever, she couldn't help but smile sleepily.

"Hi," Kara whispered, placing both knuckles under her chin and continuing to stare with childlike wonder sparkling in her eyes.

"Hi," Lena replied weakly. Only she found she was not weak from sleep or the dull ache in her cramped legs. She was weak from the way Kara was staring. It made her feel naked and exposed like she was on trial for the crime of being known and still loved. She saw it in those blue eyes - pure adoration and devotion, and it terrified her how Kara could look at her like that when she'd seen her at her worst, when she'd hurt Kara in unforgivable ways and carried the same genes as people who damn near wanted her dead.

She was weak for losing herself in the blue whirls of her best friend's eyes, the golden flecks that circled her pupils - yet another thing that made her seem unreal. Her fingers twitched as she mentally traced the little scar by Kara's left eyebrow, wanting desperately to reach out and feel the mark of a distant memory from Krypton. Lena thought better of it, knowing the intimacy of the act would mean stepping into dangerous territory. Instead, she shuffled to the side, cramming herself against the back of the couch and extending a silent invitation, one Kara understood immediately, and if her joyous smile was anything to go by, she was more than happy to accept.

Kara lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think of how good it felt to have the warmth of Lena's body so close. After a few minutes in her log-like position, she cautiously raised an arm in question. The proximity between them was nil, so what was the damage in being a little closer? Her bravery was instantly rewarded with a weight falling on her chest and a slim finger tracing the raised fabric along her chest. And as many a time before, everything around her, except Lena, ceased to exist, and Kara found herself lulled by the steady thrum of a familiar heartbeat.

The third time, Kara told herself, it was completely and utterly necessary. Suppose she didn't comfort Lena when she felt like utter shit. It would quite literally be the end of the world. She was sure of it. Solely because of that, Kara hunted the brunette down, finding her in a dimly lit room, a set of fresh tears trickling slowly down her cheeks. A series of angry lines marked Lena's blanched cheeks rouge, the colour of heartbreaking remembrance. There was a distinct look in her eyes, resembling a wounded pup. Only Lena had never been helpless like one. She'd been alone the majority of her adult life, fighting. And she'd come out the other end stronger for it; that was undeniable, but what would always remain were the chronic wounds of her hardships.

Kara remained in the doorway, unsure her presence would be welcome. The more she saw, the heavier her chest felt. The details were the worst: the way Lena clasped her hands so tightly together, yet they still shook, the glossed-over sheen to her eyes, the way her jaw shook with each silent cry, and most of all, the raw hiccups that only Kara could pick up, wearing away at Lena's throat every time she tried to keep herself quiet.

Clearing her throat, Kara lightly padded over. The brunette's mind was so far away that by the time Kara was crouching down and delicately separating her woven hands, taking each within her own, she'd just about registered that she was no longer alone looking with puffy eyes. Kara tried to offer a sympathetic smile, but it was excruciatingly painful when the woman she adored radiated so much pain she felt within herself, too. She was helplessly searching her mind for something to say, anything that could encompass what Lena was feeling or take it all away, but she knew nothing in her vocabulary could.

Kara got to her feet, taking Lena with her. There was no complaint. Lena simply complied, no energy left in her to fight, no reason to fight someone wholly trusted. She let herself be taken from one room and led into another, her mind turned off and tuned only to how soft the hand guiding her forward felt - how it was already calming her racing pulse.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kara asked, sitting down on the far side of the couch, encouraging Lena to join her by keeping their hands clasped. Lena followed willingly, though she kept quiet, staring at the margin between the couch cushions, each frayed piece of string taking her interest individually.

Kara gave Lena a once over, this time honing into every detail as quickly as possible so Lena didn't feel uncomfortable. She noticed a handful of things: the shine to Lena's hair was no longer there, and her perfume was only vaguely present, but what Kara saw first was the darkened ring under Lena's swollen eyes, and that's when she gathered what had been happening.

"It's the nightmares again, isn't it?" Kara quietly asked, squeezing Lena's hand once, twice, and holding tight to show this was in no way an invasion of privacy but a rope for the brunette to take so Kara could help pull her out of the pit she'd fallen into. A tiny whimper confirmed her guess, and that's when Kara took action. She ignored Lena's creased brow when she untangled their hands, scootched closer, looped her arms around Lena's waist and hauled her onto her lap. It was a risky move, given that this was most definitely not the most platonic position. However, any fear and regret instantly faded when she heard a sigh and felt Lena's head nestle into her neck. She held her tight and let Lena take whatever she needed from the embrace. Gently, Kara used one hand to brush through chestnut hair, keeping one hand around a slim waist. Emboldened by Lena's willingness, Kara lowered her head, turned it to the side, and kissed her barely visible cheek.

"Can we stay here tonight?" Lena finally whispered, and Kara's whole body responded in kind, buzzing in anticipation.

"Of course," she replied into the silky softness of Lena's hair. She breathed in, knowing before the exact scents that would coax their way through her airways, only to erupt into a swarming storm in her stomach - herbal shampoo complemented by nodes of bittersweet honey tea, the kind you'd drink when trees began to lose their leaves and your body hadn't yet adjusted to the drop in temperature. "Whatever you need, Lee, I'll do it."

"You, Kara Zor-el, are my hero, not Supergirl, you," Lena pulled back to confess, her worn-out eyes glinting in low light as she stared intently, watching Kara's eyes gaze right back. They stayed staring for seconds, a minute; neither knew. They simply accepted that it didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel awkward, it felt safe and warm, like coming back home after a trainwreck of a day or seeing the sun finally peak from behind the rainclouds.

Finally, Lena ducked back down and allowed herself to let go, wetting Kara's neck with a fresh set of tears.

After that, it became a weekly occurrence, then bi-weekly, tri-weekly and well, then they didn't bother trying to count how many times a week they found excuses to fall asleep in each other's arms. The couch grew new additions that no one mentioned but thoroughly enjoyed: a luxuriously soft blanket folded neatly over the side, a kitschy cushion from Kara's apartment and new upholstery. Neither spoke of their shared nights, not even with each other. It became taboo, a dirty secret between two willing participants. They both knew that, for one reason or another, they were crossing boundaries, leading them into dangerous territory. However, not acknowledging it seemed enough to fend off the intrusive thoughts.

After a particularly long day at the tower, Kara and Lena found themselves in the same place they had always wound up in when everyone had left. Their limbs entangled, and their bodies so close Lena was essentially lying atop Kara, with her head comfortably nestled on the blonde's chest. Usually, the pair would find sleep quickly enough, but something was different that night. Sleep didn't come so easy, with the day's events weighing heavy.

"What are you thinking about," Kara asked, breaking the comfortable quietude.

Lena didn't have to think twice before answering, "How I never want to lose you."

There were a few bouts of silence. Kara let Lena's words sink in before speaking again, "What do you mean?"

"Every day, you go out and protect the people of this world, even if it means risking your own life." Lena mindlessly played with the collar of Kara's sweater, trying to casualise the severity of what she was saying. Kara could sense the tension brewing in Lena and began to draw soothing circles up and down her back.

"It's who I am, Lee. My powers mean I can help people; it's my duty to do so," Kara sighed, pressing her lips to Lena's head.

"I know. But I just worry I won't see you fly back through the tower doors, that I won't be able to do enough to help you, and I'll lose the only person that's ever seemed to," she paused, the l word anxiously sitting on her tongue. "That I'll lose the one person who has always stood by me. It's selfish, I know."

A tidal wave of emotions washed over Kara. She stayed motionless for at least a minute, processing all Lena had said, and failed to say.

"Lena, look at me," she ordered.

They were both helplessly reminding themselves that this is what friends do: they're allowed to cuddle, they're allowed to fall asleep together, and they're allowed to feel like they complete each other in a way no one else probably could. The pure definition of slumber parties is deep conversations where confessions are made, so of course, this is all normal and strictly platonic and nothing more. Except when their eyes met, the look they shot at one another was anything but friendly. It was desperate and demanding, taking all the oxygen out of the room and leaving them breathless. Kara could hear Lena's heartbeat, frantic, from anticipation, excitement, or fear, she didn't know.

"I will never leave you. I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't promise me that."

Kara cupped Lena's cheeks in her palms, gently holding her still, "You're right, I can't, but I can promise that I will always fight to come back home to the people I love– to come back to you." Her eyes flickered between Lena's eyes and lips. "I love you, Lena."

"You don't have to say that," Lena choked out.

"I meant it," she stated in a hushed voice, eyes firmly planted on soft lips. "Lena, come here."

"Kara," Lena pleaded in a weak whisper, battling the fuzzy feeling that was stirring beneath her fingertips. Lena could scarcely breathe, her throat constricting with each passing second because Kara was looking at her the same way she always did, and she was so very weak to stop herself from looking back and letting the air be stolen from her lungs. Kara pulled her closer until their lips were a hair's width away, and then she chose to wait. Her intentions were clear, but she knew it had to be Lena who would make the final move. And she did. Lena closed the minimal space between their lips, ignoring the rapid pace of her thudding heart. As expected, Kara's lips were perfect, acceptant to let Lena take the lead and demanding nothing in return.

Soon enough, both got lost in the delicacy of a slow makeup session. Kara made a great effort to reign in her zeal, only encouraging Lena with a slide of her hands down to a supple waist and aiding the brunette atop her when she heard no protest. The two found themselves upright, Lena's knees cocooning Kara's hips, their core pressed against one another enough to raise their body temperatures. With the slide of the super's tongue along a plump lip and the compliant opening of the brunette's mouth, their slow and tempered kiss tilted more towards eager and desperate. Kara had scarcely noticed her hands sliding down to grip Lena's ass. She wholly gave herself to instinct and desire, guiding Lena back and forth in a grinding motion.

"Kara," Lena moaned, throwing her head back and struggling to hold herself still when Kara instantly went to suckle at her neck. "Not here. Take me home."

The blonde didn't need to be told twice; she hauled herself up, taking Lena with her, and allowed the other woman's feet to briefly touch the ground before she picked her up bridal style and shot out the balcony doors. The city was bursting with life. Laughter echoed off every surface and bounced up into the night sky. The noise sought to pollute Kara's senses, yet the blonde didn't even have to try to fight off the background noise because all she was focused on was Lena's smile, and her residing bouts of childlike laughter. It was perfection - holding Lena close, feeling her body heat against the crisp evening wind.

All the withheld desire flooded their senses the moment they landed on Lena's balcony. Kara burst into the apartment, brain muddled with the ghostly feel of velvety lips all over her throat. She used her super speed to whisk them to the bedroom, gently placing Lena down and climbing atop her.

"Hi," Lena whispered, searching Kara's eyes for regret or hesitation.

"Hi." The super leaned down and pressed a small kiss to Lena's lips before pushing herself back up to hover and smile, ridding her best friend of any doubt.

"Can I?" Lena asked, her hands under Kara's sweater, bunching the material between her palms.

"Yes." But Kara didn't appear to have the patience for Lena's gentle touch as she yanked the offending garment over her head and ducked right back down to Lena's neck, lowering her lips to the birthmark that always looked so darn kissable and did just that.

They set their tasks to removing articles of clothing, revealing more and more of themselves to each other, taking turns to stare awestruck before returning to the matter at hand. Kara took her sweet time unclasping Lena's bra if only to charge to the impending reveal she'd been waiting years for.

"Beautiful," Kara whispered, eyes fixed on Lena. "You're perfect."

She didn't let the brunette get a word in, not that Lena stood a chance when lips had already surrounded her pert nipple and a tongue darted out to move in tight circles. Kara was ravenous. She moved from breast to breast at lightning speed, giving each the full treatment until Lena was mewling and cantering her hips. It was when she felt the slickness of need touch her stomach that Kara ventured south. With each methodical kiss, Kara shuffled lower and lower, finally arriving and comfortably settling herself between creamy thighs.

Contrary to Kara's expectations, Lena was not fighting to be in charge. She allowed Kara to play around and find what got the most promising reactions. However, it seemed to be less trial and error and more constantly hitting the nail on the head because after what must have only been half a minute, Lena was practically writhing, and Kara was all but lost in the rich, sharp tastes coating her tongue. She'd found her pace and her pattern, starting with slow, pointed licks to Lena's clit, occasionally running the stiff muscle down to drive into her sopping cunt before moving back up and taking the bundle of nerves into her mouth and lathering it with the flat of her tongue. Kara kept this up, falling in love with all the ways Lena would respond: her low-pitched moans, her bucking hips, the way her thighs would clamp around Kara’s head when she used the heel of her foot to urge the blonde closer. It was heaven, and Kara never wanted it to end.

She was vaguely aware Lena was reaching her peak, the hand in her hair tightening, fingers coiling locks of hair in a firm grip. It spurred her on. Kara only moved faster, messily lapping up every inch of Lena's pussy until the brunette sprung up from the bed and let out a cry. Kara was greedy, though; she slowed down, gently lapping up the mess left behind, only to devour Lena all over again. From the moment Kara heard the sounds Lena unleashed when she entered her with two fingers, she was a goner. All she knew was Lena's sweaty body, her accelerated heartbeat, the clamping around her fingers and the harmonious cries of pleasure. She kept going and going. Harder. Faster.

"Kara," Lena whimpered, her breathing heavily laboured and her heart pounding. She used her grip on Kara's hair to pry her away. "You've got to stop."

"Are you okay?" Kara reeled back to ask. She scanned Lena once over, fear evident in her eyes. "Did I hurt you?"

"No! No, of course not. You just made me cum four times in a row, darling. I think I may pass out if you keep going." Lena seemed dazed but happily so as she stared down lovingly at Kara. She used her remaining strength to guide the blonde back up and capture her lips in an appreciative kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on her best friend's tongue.

Lena bided her time. She waited to regain a steady heartbeat before she refocused her attention on the pressing matter that was the slick mess gathering on her thigh. Kara had - clearly - already begun working herself up. Whether or not the needy grinding was intentional, Lena didn't know, but she knew she wanted to be the one to give Kara her release, not have the blonde get off on her thigh. She guided Kara back and forth till she deemed her sufficiently distracted, and only then did she turn the tables, flipping the super on her back with surprising strength.

"My turn," Lena devilishly smirked.

She effortlessly slid three fingers into Kara and began thrusting in and out with reckless abandon. The blonde had no chance. Her head crashed back into soft pillows, her body burst to life, and her skin birthed a litany of pebbly goosebumps. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. Unlike previous times, this felt like it was finally for her. Kara didn't have to fake the appreciative sounds coming from her mouth. She didn't have to direct Lena on what to do. She was free to lie back and take all that was given. And Lena was more than happy to provide.

The brunette had her lips glued to Kara's neck, adamant about marking her impenetrable skin, and though she may have been failing miserably, there was no mistaking Kara's moans for anything but satisfaction. So she kept going. With her mission still in sight, Lena eased herself down on her elbow, alleviating some of the pressure from her hand and placed her thumb over Kara's clit. The position was awkward, but Lena did her best to trace figures of eight over and around Kara's sensitive bud - knowing she immensely enjoyed the action herself - and was rewarded instantly when she felt Kara's body tense up and shake.

"Lena," Kara moaned. Her hands were wound in the bedsheets, knuckles blanched from the force of her grip. She sounded so desperate, so fragile, that Lena had to bite her tongue to stop herself from moaning.

"I know," Lena replied, rising back on her palm to gaze at Kara's sheer beauty in this delirious state. She delicately brushed stray hairs off Kara's face, staring deep into her eyes, and ever so slightly smiled. "Let go, baby."

~~~

"You're staring," Lena sighed, turning over and using her palms to rub sleep from her eyes. She’d expected some sort of embarrassment to tint Kara's face. Instead, she was met with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

"I know," Kara said in a sure voice, her gaze unmoving, and suddenly, Lena felt like she was on fire all over again. The vivid events of the previous evening, still very fresh in her mind, were of no help.

"Oh." Her cheeks were burning, and there was no doubt with her pale skin Kara could see. So Lena did what she could; she hid her face in Kara's side. "If you maybe wanted to stop, I wouldn't be opposed."

She vaguely heard Kara's laugh, but she'd become one with the small between the blonde's side and her forearm that everything was muffled. That was rectified when she was swiftly slumped onto her back, and whisps of golden hair tickled her cheeks from above.

"I don't want to stop," Kara whispered. Innocence slowly vanished from the back-and-forth gaze, replaced with dark curiosity and dangerous intent. Soon, Lena found herself incapable of not glancing at Kara's pillowy lips that seemed to be inching closer. "Roa, I never want to stop staring at you."

Tags: @homo-oddity @camciel @lovelyy-moonlight | click here to be added to my taglist

#supercorp #supercorp fanfic #kara and lena #kara x lena #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl cw #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #Kara Danvers #Lena luthor #kara danvers x lena luthor

215 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 9 months

Text

Being in a relationship with Enki Ankarian...

Being born with the Enlightened Soul, Enki was cursed and blessed with a restless need to constantly seek for new knowledge and secrets hidden away from the massive community of common folk. Such a trait had started manifesting within him at a very young age, as he was chosen to become a Dark Priest upon his and his twin sister’s birth.

Despite their rather close relationship, they were pitted against each other, typical to such occult rites, and had to fight to death with ritual daggers. Unfortunately for him, Enki was born with a frail body, that only remained fragile due to his extensive overindulging in studying, and lack of going outside or doing any kind of physical activities - Thus, his sister easily overpowered him, her dagger on his neck, waiting for the final blow.

She, however, showed mercy that he was incapable of, and withdrew her dagger, stepping away, as the high priest masters glared gleefully at the ridiculously pitiful event unfolding before their very eyes.

Unable to accept defeat, Enki rose from the ground, as soon as his sister’s back was carelessly turned to him, and he stroke his dagger to her spine, watching with cold, empty eyes as she collapsed to the ground. The high priests seemed especially pleased with this and prepared for his ascension ceremony, where he resurrected his deceased sister into a ghoul, using the newly acquired skill of Necromancy.

The cold, blank corpse of his sister brought a smile of satisfaction and accomplishment on his otherwise emotionless, pale face.

After his ascension to Dark Priesthood, he left the temple grounds to learn occult on his own, in a dark pilgrimage. He began praying to Gro-Goroth as he began dedicating his studies to the knowledge of Old-Gods.

Enki travelled across the Western continent, learning about different Gods, deities, blood magic and all known sciences. His studies didn’t come without their merit, as he was rightfully acknowledged by the top scholars of modern times, being granted a pass to the great libraries of the Kingdom of Rondon, having the collection of all known history and science at his grasp.

During his intensive research, drowning in a copious amount of piles of books and paintings, swimming in an endless ocean of knowledge, when suddenly, he felt compelled to raise his head, for a single split second - But that was enough to feast his eyes on the radiant presence of a woman that seemed to glow with such an aura that was unfamiliar to Enki.

For some reason, this human made Enki want to approach her, to delight himself with that Sun-like warmth and gentleness, and never let go. His brain had gone hay-wire for that exact single second, and he imagined her Ascension, defeating even Alll-mer in influence and radiance, for she would be worthy of worship far and wide, a single Goddess above them all, be them New or Old alike.

Ha! What a fool he’s been, allowing himself to fall prey to a woman’s charm, as if he is alike any of those petty mundane wretches, much beneath them. Surely, there was nothing that she had, except for a pretty face, and long soft locks, and a dress so beautiful and embellished with rich ornaments and golden thread embroidery... And there he goes again, losing time with meaningless thoughts!

O, and how he wished she would stop living rent-free inside his head, just so he could return to his endless studying already... Alas, that woman was gracefully sitting on a velvety chair by the dimly lit window, adopting a relaxed yet incredibly elegant pose as she began reading some kind of large, dusty tome, so old that it was almost ripping apart at the seams.

Such negligence - She might her slender, delicate fingers, but surely, there was no way an uneducated idiot like herself would be able to handle such a frail book!

Fuming, he didn’t quite realise he came up with an unlikely scenario, just to have a reason to march up in front of the beauty and speak to her - Surely, if he was to approach her with his usual misanthropy, she would be compelled to hate him and would avoid him at all costs - What a brilliant plan!

“What do you think you’re doing, you brain dead vermin?! Books like this one are supposed to be handled with intensive care!” in his makeshift rage, he tried to look away from that adorably confused face of hers, or those glowing doe eyes, looking up into his dead eyes with such radiant vitality. He grabbed at her hands, and almost shivered lightly at how soft and soft they were, compared to his skeletal-like cold and clammy ones.

“Oh, forgive me, Sir, I meant no harm.” her voice was so princess-like, compared to his gruff voice, rough from lack of speaking, that he almost felt his whole body caressed with honeyed mead. “You see, I often come to these libraries and rehabilitate old tomes like this one. I either sew protective covers over them, or try to re-write them, so that more copies would be available for people to read. There have been numerous cases of books being destroyed or going missing, and there was no way of retrieving the lost knowledge.” that sweet smile applied some colour to his otherwise ghost-white face, and for the first time in his life, Enki felt his heart pounding in his chest, harder than that time when his sister almost killed him.

Slowly, Enki let go of her hands and peered down at the book’s covers - Indeed, the seaming was freshly done, and the gold thread was adequately holding together the hardboiled leather. Even the inscription of the title was masterfully done, so much so that he found no defect to complain about or scold her for. Which meant, he also had no other reason to keep in contact or speak with this woman - So what was he supposed to do?! He had no clue how to react in such a difficult social dilemma.

“I am glad that there are more attentive people like yourself, with a genuinely love for knowledge and books!” she chirped softly, radiating with kindness and warmth. “If there were more people like yourself, it would be so much easier to preserve all this precious fountain of knowledge and allow a wider range of people to access it.” “You’re delusional.” contrary to what he was truly thinking, Enki grumbled under his breath, the corner of his mouth turning upwards in a disgusted sneer. “You wouldn’t be the first to call me that!” her giggle seemed as tender as an angel’s embrace. “It’s quite alright though! I just do what I like to do, and if people can benefit from my work, then all the best!” he was speechless, from a variety of reasons. “Are you quite alright, Sir? You seem unusually pale. Are you feeling ill?” at the same time that the beauty reached out her hands to cup his cold face and feel him up, Enki’s eyes widened like a dead fish’s, and he violently retracted away from her touch, as though he was terrified of getting burnt by her Sun-like warmth. Not only that, but the tome from her lap fell to the ground with a thud and a large cloud of dust, which ultimately made them both cough. “I’m fine. Mind your own business, woman.” he grunted in between coughs, crouching down to get the book - Only to feel her hand underneath his own - Was it fate, that such a continuous string of intimate coincidences keep happening? Was he supposed to meet her? Was there truly a red string of destiny wrapped around them both, pulling them together? “Oh, forgive me, Sir.” she smiled softly at him, waiting for him to remove his larger hand from on top of hers. He didn’t, captivated and lost in her eyes. “You may take the book at home for studying, if you’d like. I can guarantee for you. You seem like a man who truly treasures knowledge and books.” “Stop calling me Sir, it’s annoying. Enki Ankarian.” he grumbled, snatching away his hand from over hers, before cradling the tome to his chest, as though it’s his most cherished possession. “It is lovely meeting you, Mr. Ankarian.” the glare she received made her offer a sheepish grin. “Uh... Mr. Enki?” the glare got harsher. “Enki...?” his glare dissipated, replaced once again by a blank stare, and a weird sense of relief and content washed over him. “My name is Y/N. You must be having an Enlightened Soul, right?” Enki rose a questioning eyebrow - Was it truly that evident, even to somehow he just met for the first time? Still, he grunted a positive answer. “No wonder - Then, I have all the more reason to trust you with borrowing books from our library.” Enki couldn’t help but pick up on the odd choice of a possessive pronoun. “Good to know.” he mumbled under his breath. “Whose library is it?” “Loosely speaking, it belongs to the Kingdom of Rondon, but it was my family who founded it, long ago, and we’ve kept taking care of it, having scholars, maesters and priests over, leaving imprints of their knowledge here and what not.” the way she was speaking of her family and the library seemed to make her exceedingly proud and happy. “Do you have a Radiating Soul or what?!” Enki found himself blurting out without as much as any bit of consideration or a normal, social filter. But the woman before him didn’t seem to mind it, nor was she seemingly bothered by it at all. For a delicate damsel like herself, she seemed to be tanking his brashness and rudeness with an impenetrable shield of white light. “Oh, yes, you are correct! As expected of someone bright like yourself!” she seemed to be bubbling over with glee. No wonder he was immediately attracted to her, from the second she entered the room. People like her were born to have tons of people flocking around her like moths to the flame. How annoying.

Enki couldn’t help but glare at the woman before him, smiling so brightly, as though she’s never even heard of the horrors of the world, let alone experience them; A creature so pure, that the glimmers of hope sparkle all around them. This woman was the perfect opposite of him, so much so that he almost felt afraid of being anywhere near her. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Such a situation went much over the parameters of his abilities and skills.

“Will I see you around tomorrow also?” Enki’s breath hitched in his throat and his heart stopped beating, as soon as he heard that God forsaken question. “I have to return the book, don’t I?” he found himself successfully grunting a satisfactory answer. “Wonderful!” she chimed happily. “Then, it is time for me to return home and bake some cookies!” with his eyes bulging out of his sockets, and his jaw slightly agape, Enki felt his throat dry, wondering - What the hell has he gotten himself into?

From then on, almost on a daily basis, Enki would spent day in and day out at the libraries of Rondon, accompanied by that annoyingly beautiful woman, who captured his dead heart in such a weird way.

You would bring over trays of snacks and cookies she made, along with tea, coffee, with small recipients with milk and honey for sweetening - Of course, you would drink the sweetest beverages, whilst he liked them black and bitter - And he has to admit, everything you made, was out of this world delicious.

His skin even started getting some colour, and his body wasn’t as skeletal-skinny, due to being unconsciously taken care of, to the point that you even invited him over at your rather lavish house, where he’d eventually move in, without much protest.

Years later, he still isn’t quite sure how the hell did he end up moving in so quickly and effortlessly - It all felt incredibly natural, and he didn’t even realise what had happened, until it was too late, and he had slept over in his own dormitory for over a month. It was a comfortable life he was living, with no restrictions about studying, nor the need to work ; Though, in a way, he did feel as though he was taking advantage of your kindness, which irked him enough into thinking of way to compensate you in some way.

Realising there was nothing that he owned, which he could offer you, he proposed to teach you offensive magic. He knew well enough that you were safe and sound in Rondon, and you were well versed in the healing arts to begin with, but there comes no harm in having ways to defend yourself, correct? His sister should have been taught that lesson sooner.

With unexpected patience, Enki would put you closer to him on the sofa, with a book on his lap and an arm around your waist, reading to you whatever he was interested in at that moment, and would explain everything in great detail, making sure you understand everything there is of interest about that said topic.

And when it comes to practicing blood magic of any kind, he will have you practicing, in a safe environment, on wooden dummies. Hell, he was impressed by how easily you picked up on his teachings, that he even muttered out a bit of praise! Wonderous achievement!

Enki finds great comfort in brushing your hair, and would take all the time in the world just playing with those soft locks, even idly braiding it or twisting it around, as a means of relaxing or de-stressing.

At some point, during the hotter times of the year, he would begrudgingly allow you to also braid his hair and style it in a bun - You wear the same hairstyles more often than not - Mostly at home though, where there’s no one else to see.

When he gets frustrated, he would absent-mindedly doodle random runes or symbols all over your hand or arm, before going out into the cold rain to cool himself and start over whatever he project he was working on.

Though he always hisses like a cat, he loves it when you kiss his cheeks or forehead whenever you pass by his study desk. He loves your touch more than he’d like to admit, and he loves the way your plump, soft lips feel against his own, capable of pulling him out of this world - But what he loves more than anything, is how small you feel in his embrace, as you cuddle or hug - There is no words being said, only swimming in the love and bliss, feeling each other’s heartbeat, reveling in each other’s warmth.

When you get intimate, he’ll always stay above you, cradling your head and peppering your face with tons of lingering kisses, going down to your jaw and neck. Every sound you make, every twitch of your body, only drive him crazy. He’ll take his time with you, slow and steady, long strokes, until you see stars before your eyes, and him in the center of your world. If you try to look away as you climax, he’ll lightly tug on your hair, inching your face to make you look at him and only him as you come undone in his arms.

He might not admit to it, and he’ll never ever admit to it, not even to himself, but he loves you as much as he loves studying. On the days you’re going out together, strolling through the busy cobbled streets of Rondon, he will keep his arm around your waist, glaring at anyone who’d dare look at you - And with your Radiant Soul, there were plenty of people attracted to you. No one could get anywhere close to his little angel.

Though he found himself happiest and most comfortable living with you, his studies were never neglected, to the point that he found himself despairing for having nothing more that he can learn - This empty husk, limited to the Earthly, can only get him so far. He had reached the limits of any human can achieve, and all because of his Enlightened Soul, he was unable to find any means of keeping himself under control. He was going crazy, and there was nothing even you could do, even suggesting going traveling abroad, that could calm him down from his insanity.

There was no satisfaction, nor fulfilment that he could get. He allowed the Dark Priests to crucify him on the statue, naked, in the middle of the city, ready to be taken to the other world by Alll-mer. There was no silver lining waiting at the end; The purpose of all humans was to liver under the cold sun that the Gods have set above them all.

Just as the Priests were ready to sacrifice him, Enki saw a vision - He wasn’t sure if it was your desperate visage that gave him new thirst for living, guilty of breaking your heart, or that mysterious thing flashing in the corner of his eyes - Whichever the case, he understood his new purpose, and was ready to start anew, to flip a new chapter in this agonising life.

Once the Priests brought him down, you immediately ran up to him, wrapping him up in a blanket to keep his cold, clammy skin warm. You were ready to bring him home, cook him a warm meal, bring him a hot tea - But he was far too excited about this new prophecy that he was shown, this revelation that foretold a man meant for greatness, who will begin a new era for mankind - Why would he share the spotlight of the Gods with any mortal man, anyway?

Prophecies are only for those who are weak enough to bend to their sorry fates. Enki was hell-bent on finding this man and learning more about him and this so-called destiny of his. As far as he’s aware, this man is imprisoned in the notorious dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

He knew this was it - The stairway to his Enlightenment, and he was dead set on discovering all the ancient secrets that this stronghold kept, all to reach the ultimate understanding of the greater scheme of things.

No matter how much he wished to keep you at home and promise you that he’ll return in time for dinner, he couldn’t. Not only was it impossible for him to lie to you like that, but he was also unable of stopping you from joining him, no matter how many times he warned you that he might not be able to keep you safe during this mess of a quest, or even as much as say with certainty that neither of you will die. Still, you were persistent, and though you felt your body shivering with fear as soon as you reached the courtyard to the two entrances, you still didn’t back down - You were going to stay by his side, through thick and thin.

From the very second that you got in front of the dungeons, he could see your body trembling softly with fear, from the sheer malevolent and suffocating pressure that it emanated. Enki was unable of reassuring you with words, but he held your hand, guiding you blindly through the intricate hallways of the labyrinthine dungeon, though he had no idea where exactly he had to go. The only thing he knew was that he had to find Le’Garde somewhere deep underneath the dungeons, in the prison levels... Probably.

As torches would go out far too quickly, leaving you to stumble blindly through the place, you used a simple magic spell to create a ball of light in your palm.

In a place as decrepit and plagued such as the Fear and Hunger dungeon, even your Radiating Soul seemed to be greying and fading tragically.

It was thanks to Enki’s level-headed and composed self that you could feel relatively safe. That, and his almost unsettling Necromancy skill, which aided him in creating a small army of ghouls and skeletons to aid your journey to success.

The two of you first encountered an enormous prison guard, with rather disproportionate genitals, ready to tackle you and destroy you entirely. You were absolutely terrified, stunned and rooted to the spot - Thankfully, the Dark Priest and his powerful dark magic were able to quickly massacre the foe.

To calm you down, Enki cupped your face and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering loving words until he could feel your bode relaxing under his touch, ready to go on with your long and perilous journey.

You scavenged various crates and barrels, finding food, armors and weapons useful for the future, though the two of you still relied on your own powerful magic, and the cannon fodder dead as meat shields.

You killed two dark priests, taking their soul stones and purifying talismans, sacrificing a man and raising affinity with Gro-Goroth, before unsealing the magic door using Counter-Magic and venturing inside where they found a Hexen and learnt Greater blood magic.

In one of the libraries, there weren’t all that many books of interest. Somewhere further along, you found a ritualistic circle painted on the ground with blood, over a carved up symbol of Gro-Goroth. You looked up at Enki, confused, as he studied the book on the pedestal closely.

“Gor-Goroth requires a sacrifice, doesn’t he? And Sylvian wants love. Alll-mer wants prayer, doesn’t he? What are we supposed to do?” you ask, looking down at the intricate circle. “Nothing. I’ll do a quick prayer for the God of Destruction, but nothing more. Get out of that circle right now, I don’t want to risk your safety.” he ushered you away quickly as he prayed, and took you out of that place immediately.

On a book shelf, somewhere up, beyond your reach, Enki found the renowned Necronomicon. With trembling hands and deep excitement, he dares to read the Black Book, and even learns the Black Orb spell. This new-found knowledge only seemed to further excite the Dark Priest, so much so that he smirked with deep triumph.

Probably one of the worst parts of the journey was traversing through the Blood-Flesh pit to get to the prisons and activate the elevator for the ground levels; Honestly, how in the world could such a disgusting thing exist, anyway? Everything was so fleshy, squishy, juicy and revolting, it made your skin crawl.

Out in the courtyard, you found a massive statue of Alll-mer, to which you begrudgingly prayed to, but funny enough, somewhere to the left of the courtyard, a huge orgy was taking place, with a bunch of naked people wearing only bunny masks. They were in a trance-like state, and the act seemed rather painful for the submissive one; It was absolutely terrifying to watch, especially as none were letting out a single noise. It seemed that love for the sake of Sylvian had completely gone corrupted. Seeing how uncomfortable it made you, Enki grabbed your wrist and took you away from there without another word. No Godly Affinity was worth your discomfort.

The next location you went to was the Mines, where you noticed a presence that didn’t seem to indicate any kind of malice. Though Enki was a little more weary, as he felt responsible for your well-being, you found yourself encouraged to step forward and introduce yourself. This man looked very similar to Enki, with long and well-kept hair, pale skin, and a dust-grey priest robe. There was something about his soul also, something familiar, that made you feel you could trust this man called Nosramus.

He, also, had an Enlightened Soul. No wonder you felt at ease in his presence. Enki, also, seemed to be feeling the same way. Nosramus revealed he is an alchemist and he lives in this God-Forsaken place. Unfortunately, he had to run away, as he had forgotten his kettle on. What a shame.

Stumbling around blindly through the mines, you had to battle a rather hostile Yellow Mage, though with some rather cunning talk from Enki, he retriever a rather interesting Talisman, before killing that ridiculous dancing foe.

After defeating the Salmonsnake and a ton of ghosts, passing by the cannibal orgy dedicated to Gro-Goroth, Enki summons a portal passage towards the bridge to Ma’habre, pulling you in with him along the ancient city. Somewhere up in the sky, you could see the ghostly silhouette of the four New Gods, who disappeared one by one, but not before a promise of reunion. You were sent back to the mines after that. What a peculiar manifestation of magic!

You went through a whole city of inoffensive yet rather creepy cave-dwellers before finding your way to attack a huge, armoured Knight and its phantasmal counterpart which blocked the path towards Nosramus’ laboratory. He seemed to greet you with open arms and a genuine smile on his face.

Enki asked him what his studies consisted in, and he claims he studies just about all fields of knowledge, like a true renaissance man would, like blood magic, deities, gods and what not, though now he’s most interested in nature and the heartbeat of the earth. Enki smirked a little, realising that such interest aligns with your own. He seemed rather light-hearted and jovial, joking around about having been around for an eternity, and that this dungeon is vital for his studies. Though, when asked about this particular man, he seemed vague, though he confirmed he must be a few floors below them, and they should hurry.

Emboldened by his affirmation, they returned to the Cave-Dwellers’ village and searched around for clues, until they found a rather intricate and particular artifact in the form of a cube. It was the Cube of the Depths. Unfortunately, as soon as they grabbed it, the otherwise peaceful Cave-Dwellers became hostile and started attacking them once spotted. What a shame.

Once escaped, they found themselves deep inside a rather terrifying thicket, chased around by poisoned mumblers, though here, they found a weird, large, bulbous thing like a chist, pulsating and throbbing. They destroyed it immediately, before going down a hole in the ground, reaching the Level 7 Catacombs and finding another such thing.

Unfortunately, just down that corridor, they found the prison cell where the Man of the Prophecy was being shackled. He was already long dead. They were much too late. They failed the task they set out to. How annoying.

Looking at each other, you and Enki exited the prison cell hand in hand, looking down in disappointment - There was no reason for you to be there anymore, was it? Alas, Enki’s path to Enlightenment was shattered in front of him. Mumbling a few curses, he was deaf to the sound of footsteps approaching. “Nosramus!” Enki was brought back to reality by your sweet voice gasping out the alchemist’s name.

The man seemed to have already guessed the one called Le’Garde was long dead. He must have thought he’d have had a much bigger role in the greater scheme of things, but apparently, not so much. Still, the seed of what he planted continues to grow and branch. Nosramus encouraged you to venture further into the darkness and figure out this enigmatic riddle for yourselves. With you thirst for success, Enki dragged you to a large stone gate, engraved with a variety of runes. He brought out the Cube, and the doors opened, to the Tomb of the Gods. Fantastic! This area looks to be from the distant past, how intriguing!

The Priest rushed with you through the many corridors of the Tomb, until you reached the outside; The darkness was hiding away the city, though with your magic, you could get a small glimpse of the odd architecture of this ancient city. It truly was a work of art and historical fountain.

A little unsure of what to do, you reach a Beacon, which seemed to react to the Cube. It grew taller by a few levels, glowing bright green, and suddenly, you and Enki were in Ma’Habre, now illuminated by the bright daylight. The two of you could only stare in shock and wonder at the sight before your eyes - Neither of you ever thought you would witness such a miracle. You were grateful to Nosramus for his guidance. That man knew so much more than he led on.

The Ancient City was wonderous to explore, and it felt almost as though you were sight-seeing, and you were just a newly-married couple enjoying their honeymoon vacation abroad; Though most of the time, you spent in the Grand Library was the most welcomed, as you found so many long-forgotten books to study. Of course, you found yourself stealing a few of them, eager to take them home, restore them, copy them and place them in your own Rondon Library, to benefit other scholars also.

When you were ready to leave the Library, you got attacked by something that you could only call a giant head with its brain out... And uh... An eye that looks awfully phallic.

After guarding from a headbutt and summoning a blood golem, Enki tries talking some sense to the God of Enlightenment... The great Enlightened Valeil became this weird, huge head. Bewildering. Though he didn’t seem to react to his words, a stream of ideas, concepts and questions fill your head.

“Among us... The new Gods... I am Valteil to the Enlightenment as Francois is to the Domination. Who is Torment...?” the voice inside your head asked. At once, Enki answered correctly, mentioning Chambara’s name. The boss took a good amount of damage. Whilst you kept using defensive and healing spells, the undead army kept attacking, allowing Enki safe space to speak and destroy the boss.

“The dark continent... Whence the darkness slowly leaks to the Western World... Where the day only shines... Eternal darkness and grey gloom... What is it called among the people of Europa?” Enki answered correct with his answer of Vinland, causing the Enlightened One a massive headache.

“We, the new Gods... Whilst still walking among men... Our fellowship, when did we embark on our journey to Ascension?” Year 809 was the correct answer, as expected of someone like your remarkable husband. Valteil’s right hemisphere and that ridiculous eye had been destroyed, and then his left hemisphere also. He remained a hallow skull.

“Alll-mer, the Ascended one... The last of the older Gods. What year marks the birth of his new self?” Year 0 was the right answer, of course, and with that, Valteil was defeated. The head of Valteil the Enlightened One falls down to the darkness from where it once rose. The millennia of wisdom and knowledge that is too much for a normal person to bear passes through your heads. You only get glimpses of what is waiting for you on the other side, but this information stream is too much for your mind to handle. Your head hurts, and you feel a little shaken up. You look at Enki, who’s clutching his head also, yet he seems completely ecstatic with the knowledge that something far greater has just started to change.

The cogs of Fear and Hunger have just began to rotate on a larger scale. You got the Enlightened Soul. Enki’s hand squeezed yours, and it was clear, he’s never been more thrilled than with this experience. For a brief second there, he wanted to regret embarking in such a dangerous adventure, yet now, he was pumped up and ready to learn more.

Traversing back through the intricate library, you found Valteil’s mortal body, strung up at the waist with a rope. He seemed absolutely depressed, saying that mankind has no hope, and that ascension was never the right path. Enki admitted he was also on the path of Enlightenment, to which he was warned not to be fooled by power or blinded by the golden throne. One must admit his own mistakes in order to grow, he said. There was, however, one amongst them who was right, though Valteil hadn’t expanded on that, leaving them with more questions than answers.

Enki found an empty scroll, on which he scribbled a request to Alll-mer, to be taught how to walk on water, so you could return back to where you killed the Salmonsnake and reach the other side of the mines. There, you were met with a menacing lizardman, and a bunch of humans strung upside down. They were skinned and mutilated. Seeing your horrified look, Enki held your hand and rushed through the mines, trying to shield your view from the atrocities.

You reached a sealed door, which Enki unlocked with the use of Counter-magic again, and inside, you found none other than Nosramus himself! What a coincidence! He asked about Valteil, somehow sensing they you met him. When Enki told him that he was regretting his past actions, the Alchemist seemed amused and intrigued. It was the first time he had heard about Valteil admitting his mistakes.

“Nosramus, forgive me for asking, but you were friends, weren’t you? You, and all the others.” Nosramus finds himself smiling a little wider hearing you speak. “Valteil mentioned one of his friends being on the correct path - That must have been you, right?” the Alchemist gave a nostalgic nod of his head, explaining that Valteil’s belief was that one could achieve Enlightenment with a snap of his fingers, if only he Ascended. Of course, a ridiculous idea, and Nosramus, to this day, is still bewildered to how easily his friend fell into that trap. The ultimate truth was just one, that there is no end to the path of Enlightenment. New information, new forms of science, new people, new worlds... The knowledge of the world keeps on increasing. How could you settle down thinking you are at the end of it all, he wondered rhetorically.

“We learn our whole life.” Enki found himself mumbling under his breath, his eyes wide with realisation. That quote made Nosramus smile with pride. Unknown to the alchemist, it was you who once told Enki that little thing, and now, to think some words could mean so much, could hold such value. Enki turned his head to you, and once again, amidst the darkness, he saw you radiating brightly - So bright, in fact, like a muse, like the Sun brightens up the whole world at once.

Nosramus then recommended that Enki sits on the golden throne to meet his reflection - Surely, there will be incredible insight and knowledge, especially of the New Gods, which he could learn. Still, he had to heed caution - If he truly was a scholar of sciences, he must only observe, not surrender to the lust of power, like those before him. Thus, the Alchemist offered him the Spirit Anchor.

Enki was a little too bewildered to speak, and could only watch as you embraced the Alchemist, thanking him for his kindness and benevolence is sharing such a gift with you. “Thank you for all of your help, Nosramus. Without you, I am sure, my husband would never truly be happy. It is through knowledge that he finds happiness - And I can only be happy, when seeing him like this. You have saved him from despair, and from himself. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.” the Forgotten One simply chuckled light-hearted, patting your head as though you were his little sister or daughter, reassuring you it wasn’t a big deal he was doing, before ushering you on your way.

Your radiating smile painted a little colour on Enki’s pale cheeks, and you excitedly grabbed both of his hands, dragging him back to the Blood Portal, so you could return to the Ancient City and continue your fantastic journey. You reached the back alleys of the city, and using a stone, you searched for a safe place to land. Clearly, you couldn’t trust the ghouls to hold a rope for you to descend, so you had to jump and land, albeit a little rough, on a small piece of safe land that reached inside an underground cave. Thankfully, Enki caught you, alleviating the pain of your legs.

This cave was filled to the brim with wooden mannequins and a weird machine which, when adding Enki’s blood, it... Created a human husk in his image. Now, you had a rather awkward Enki, looking with disgust and embarrassment at his naked clone, shamelessly prancing around the place. Your amused giggle only made him huff and look away, grabbing you to move along and exit the cave.

Climbing up a ladder, with the clone following you, you found yourselves inside the Temple of Torment. The atmosphere was so thick and heavy that you felt compelled to leave for the moment and explore a little more.

You reached the Tower of the Endless, where you found a bed. Weirdly enough, you felt rather safe in this place, as though you could rest a little. You have been running around for so long, that perhaps a little shut-eyes was welcomed. Enki agreed, laying down on the bed, making room for you to cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat lulling you into a deep, peaceful sleep.

However, weirdly enough, you met inside your joined dream, and you found yourselves in Rondon. Though confused, you found yourselves inside a brothel, seeing a mercenary speak to his prostitute wife about his future job and how he wants to provide for her - It was to rescue the very man they found dead. Next, you had to relieve the moment Enki tried to get himself sacrificed, to which the man in cause took you away, not wanting to have you experiencing such heartbreak a second time.

Walking further, you found yourselves deep inside the Oldegard forests, where you saw an Outlander mourning the death of his comrades who were massacred in a war with the Rondon knights who sought an artifact they found. The Outlander seemed to realise his wife and son were in danger, so he rushed to this barn, on a path soaked in blood and corpses. This man was defeated with the knowledge of his family’s death, and he swore revenge on the monster who did this.

Once the Outlander’s memory disappeared, you and Enki walked inside the barn, seeing a Skin Granny, which you had to fight and defeat through all of her phases - Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult a fight, thanks to your greater magic proficiency and the many undead fighters shielding you two. Once defeated, you excited the barn, seeing a vision of Le’Garde, the man of the prophecy, speaking to one of his female knights rather cryptically. She seemed completely blinded with love for him, but he was simply using her.

As this memory, too, ended, you were engulfed in nothing but a white light, and a woman, Nilvan the Endless, appeared before you. She caressed her swollen belly, begging you to take her child to the darkness, to save the child, and thus, she offered you the Endless Soul. How amusing though, considering neither of you even encountered a child to begin with, but her soul was more than welcomed.

Refreshed and feeling stronger, mentally and emotionally, you and Enki smoked a little and ate well before returning to the Temple of Torment, ready for an arduous fight. As soon as you enter the Temple, a loud, echoing scream, like that of a man deep in anguish and agony, resounded through the whole place, sending shivers down your neck. It was the most terrifying thing you’ve ever heard, and you instinctively clinged onto Enki’s arm for some comfort.

Somewhere inside a long room, you found a weird torture mechanism, and with a heavy heart, you placed the clone on the hooks, ready to sacrifice the husk - Though Enki didn’t seem the least bit disturbed at seeing his own mirror image being tortured to the point of having his skin painfully ripped apart by the hooks, you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at it, your heart shattering as the skeletons kept rotating the wheels.

The Red Man continued shrieking loudly as blood streamed everywhere through the temple, and the deep pit was now full with blood, from which the Tormented One emerged silently. Defeating him once was easy, though the New God succumbed deep inside the pool of blood, as a terrible sensation filled you, as if something was about to happen that should forever remain unknown to human eyes. Thus, he emerged one again, in the middle of three spiky wheels of torment swinging around their axis. One by one, they jammed and destroyed the horrific wheels, and their suffering God, until they all sank into the pool of blood as quietly as when they rose from it.

Though it was a terrifying sight and battle, you feel as if a millennia of torment just slipped before your eyes. You feel sorry for this tormented deity, though Enki not so much. Regardless, you gain the third soul, the Tormented Soul.

Thus, you return to the City Center of Ma’habre, ready to defeat the guard blocking your path from entering the Golden Temple. Inside the Temple, you found an older version of Francois the Dominating, and you engaged in a rather interesting conversation with him, who advised you on how to defeat his younger, more cocky self. After killing the last purple, throbbing heart, you return into the past of the Ancient City, using the Cube of the Depths, ready to defeat the last God.

You found Francois sitting on the golden throne, speaking down on you as though you were vermin or even less. Thankfully, with the use of the old Francois and some cunning speech, you were able to destroy his younger self’s ego enough to make him reckless and vulnerable and destroy him forever, taking his Dominating Soul.

Looking at the golden throne, you felt your body softly trembling, before shifting your gaze towards your lover. You threw your arms around him, bringing him into a tight embrace, confession your love for him over and over and over again, your eyes stinging with tears of sheer fear. Enki simply cupped your face and pulled you into a deep, loving kiss.

It was the first time Enki ever truly told you ‘I love you’.

He tried to tell you he will return to you, but something caught in his throat, rendering him unable to promise something like that. Instead, he felt an electrifying feeling down his spine, and not even once did you break eye contact, as he slowly sat down on the throne of the New Gods.

A bright light engulfed you, and surprisingly, you found yourself in an incomprehensible dimension or world, transported by the throne. Enki was still sitting, while you stood in front of him, both of you deeply confused. Hand in hand, you and the undead army searched for a path towards... Who knew?

As you stepped in the middle of a bridge that separated two large bodies of lands, something started slowly rising from the green hue. Coiling, slimy tentacles were dancing above the green smoke, before the monolithic creature slowly rose from inside the green fog. You and Enki looked at one another, unable to properly comprehend what were you battling, yet you knew, the being before you had tremendous power.

This creature was the Goddess of Life and Love, Sylvian. Tentacles slammed and swirled around in an erratic manner, damaged the protecting undead and blood golems. Suddenly, you noticed the creature growing a large tumor in a humanoid shape, and it was wriggling in pain.

With great difficulty, you managed to cut the four tentacles lashing out at you and the humanoid tumour, before finally descending back into the green smokes, letting you go in peace. What a relief. Battling an Old God took its toll on you two, and you needed a few seconds of respiro, smoking some opium, before finding some strength in your feet to walk forward and have... A New God, oddly resembling Enki, with a cage on his head, greeting you.

“Knowledge... It suffocates those who are not able to adjust to it. I could not bear the world with everything I’ve learned with the Enlightenment and my Ascension. It is said that ignorance is bliss and knowledge only enhances the pain. The only way for me to continue existing was to change. Knowledge changes one permanently. There is no looking back after a certain point.” the reflection of Enki spoke to him in a monotone voice.

That reflection was what he was to become. He felt great lust for power take over him - It would have been so easy to give in and learn secrets that are only whispered among mortals - But he came prepared, and had been warned about such lust; Not only that, a single look into your eyes was enough to remind him of his true purpose, his true happiness. He didn’t want to end up like Valteil, trapping himself in the corner, with nothing left to do but rot away, forgotten by the world. No, he was destined for so much more - Though a mortal, he felt content continuing his path towards Enlightenment with you by his side.

You declined the Godhood and managed to step out of the plane of the ascended that was coloured by the green hue that radiated from the underground pits. It’s not like your ascension wasn’t without its merits, even if you withdrew at the last second. You saw the reflection after all and understood its intents. With newly found knowledge, he took the grand libraries of the ancient city as his own, and once he was done with a book, he would pass it on to you, to read, copy and restore, so that you could make your own Great Library of Rondon the most Enlightened one in the whole world. The Enlightened Library.

Thankfully, the library of Ma’habre already contained more information than one could digest in multiple lifetimes, yet lucky for you, Enki, with a little help from Nosramus, discovered the secrets of a prolonged life pretty soon.

You found out how the older Gods had left this world long ago. You had taken care of the New Gods that resided in the city of the Gods. Enki did not need Godhood to chase after the true Enlightenment. He did not need Godhood to become the most powerful mortal to exist.

He already WAS the most accomplished mortal that ever was, and will ever be.

And with your Radiating warmth, love, beauty and support, along with his new-found friend, the Alchemist Nosramus, the Forgotten One, life has become a truly happy bliss.

389 notes · View notes