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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 2 months

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𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧

didn't really wanna write this in the first place, considering my faith, but ugh it was too good of an idea to resist😅

Summary: Aemond was always God's favorite creation, that is, until He made you.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), ROUGH NONCON, Lucifer!Aemond x Eve!Reader (does this count as monster fucking?), a whole lotta blasphemy going on here, guilt, degradation, humiliation, corruption, taste of the forbidden fruit (aka oral, m!receiving), painful loss of virginity, blood, creampie, Aemond is very very mean

word count | 2.4k🤙🏻

As soon as Aemond was created, he knew he was made for greatness.

Aemond was the most beautiful out of all of the angels, the most beloved and cherished. God put a lot of effort into sculpting him out of the finest materials, making him appear ethereal, almost as much as Him. It shouldn’t have been much of a shock when some of the angels preferred his company to God’s, telling him how much better he could run things, what things he could achieve if the Creator simply…ceased to exist.

Aemond tried, and Aemond failed, forcing God’s hand to banish him and his fallen angels from paradise, making Aemond lose his eye in the process. He refused to bow down and blindly obey what claimed to be a superior being than everything else, and he was thrown into Hell for wanting his own independence.

Aemond grew bitter and angry, what kind of Father did that to his beloved creation?

He vowed from then on that he’d try to spurn his Creator at every moment he could, devoting himself to make God have a perpetual headache as revenge. He’d destroy anything and everything He loved and wanted to protect, burn Heaven’s gates to the fucking ground.

So when Aemond saw God had made such fragile little toys to roam what he called Earth, he took every opportunity to maim and kill each creature. But that only made God create beings that could take care of said creatures.

Aemond and his demons could only laugh at the smooth skinned being that God created out of dust. Dust, he thought derisively, how inferior this so-called human is compared to me to be made out of something so quaint.

Aemond attempted to push all sorts of dangerous thoughts into the human’s head, wanting the man to destroy and self-destruct, but all he managed to get through was the feeling of loneliness.

Then, in response to the human man’s loneliness, God created a similar being to keep this human company; you, whose beauty almost matched Aemond’s, and he suddenly came to the realization that he wasn’t God’s favorite anymore.

God didn’t walk with Adam as much as he did with you, little Eve, doting on you and granting you whatever you wished without you even having to ask. No, no, no, this won’t do, Aemond thought maliciously, only he could be God’s favorite. No…Aemond had to ruin you.

Watching you and Adam live in blissful ignorance, speaking and being in the presence of the Lord, boiled his blood, hotter than he had ever felt before. But one silver lining, the Tree of Knowledge.

God told you and Adam that you could eat from any tree or plant you wished, just never the Tree of Knowledge for you would surely die. Aemond smirked to himself as he devised his plan. He would make damn sure one of you would eat the forbidden fruit.

Aemond came to you when you were by yourself, disguising himself in the appearance of a serpent, the only form he could take in your presence, which irked him, but he’d make do.

You eyed the serpent carefully, watching as it slithered across the grass towards you, seemingly just watching you as you worked in the garden…until it started to speak.

“Did God really say you must not eat from any tree in the garden?” The serpent spoke.

“We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but the Lord God did say, you must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.” You answered hesitantly, still very confused why a snake was speaking to you like it was a man. But a part of you were intrigued, his voice was soft and alluring; entranced, you had to listen to what it had to say.

The serpent seemed to scoff. “Surely you will not die.” The serpent climbed up the tree, taking a bite from the lowest hanging fruit, a loud gasp eliciting from your own lips as you saw the being swallow and didn’t immediately fall dead. “See? Who is He to tell you what you can and can’t do, hm? Aren’t you supposed to be free?”

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of your stomach, feelings of rage and betrayal encompassing you. “I-I…I am free! You have forgotten your place, beast!” You snapped, “The Lord God loves us and wants the best for us. He must have a reason!”

“You think everything is perfect, silly girl?” The serpent giggled, circling around you like the predator he was, eyeing your naked form, finding a reluctant feeling of gratefulness that God chose your features so well. “There’s so much wonder here right in front of your eyes, all you have to do is simply take a bite of the fruit.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No. He said we’d die. Why would He lie?”

“Because, if you eat from the tree, your eyes will be opened for what the world really is. You’ll understand right from wrong. You will be like Him. Consider, for just a second, if God truly loved you, He wouldn’t keep all this knowledge from you, right? Why would He keep something so simple from someone so innocent? Maybe He wants it all for Himself because He doesn’t think you deserve to feel all the joys He feels, that you’ll never feel. Ask yourself, why does He give you less when He takes more? How being free is being locked inside this place? Maybe you're weak or a mistake or too emotional. Maybe you're not good enough for His world, maybe you never were…”

Aemond could see the hesitance slowly leave your face, finally considering what he was saying to be the truth. Yes, little Eve, eat. “He’ll never know, sweet little lamb. I’ll never tell, you have my word. You deserve to know, you deserve to be free.”

The serpent’s poisonous words penetrated into your mind, making your mouth water from just the thought of finally eating from the forbidden tree. You had to admit, the tree was pleasant to the eye, the fruit it bore looked so delectable, like water on a hot day, maybe it would have always come to this? If not now, then definitely later.

You picked the same piece of fruit the serpent had bit into before, the skin of the fruit so soft and ripe, you were practically drooling as you brought it to your lips, taking a considerable bite.

As soon as the sweet yet bitter flavor hit your tongue, it felt like all the walls came down and the heavens opened. It was the best thing you had ever tasted in your life, the taste almost making you moan aloud. And you weren’t dead, in fact, you had never felt more alive. But your skin prickled at the breeze hitting your skin, and you realized you were naked. How long have you been naked? And the serpent was no longer with you, instead, a tall figure stood in front of you now, transformed as soon as the fruit traveled down your throat.

Unlike the serpent, the being in front of you was too beautiful to be any sort of beast, or human for that matter. You teared up instantly, the sight being too amazing for your human mind to comprehend. “Who…who…?” Was all you could get out.

“I am called many names, little lamb. Lucifer, Satan, Devil, Father of Lies, and much more…but you may call me Aemond.”

Your stomach dropped, the fruit sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone, burning from the inside out; you wanted to vomit. What have you done? You almost screamed when he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you close to him, your chest touching his, your breasts pressed uncomfortably against the leather of his clothing.

“You just had to give into temptation, didn’t you? You just had to taste it.” The Devil disapproved mockingly, an evil grin decorating his face, making his visage all the more menacing.

“You…you deceived me!” You sobbed, “You lied! You-!”

“Ah, ah, ah, can’t claim yourself to be innocent now, little girl. Now, the trust is broken. How will your God ever love you now?” He purred, licking up your free flowing tears from your cheeks and moaning at the salty taste. You tried to pull away, but he was too strong, holding your head in place, his fingers digging into your skin, once never blemished nor tainted now marked by the beast. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Besides, I’ve got something else for you to taste.”

You begged for him to stop as he forced you on your knees, the grassy floor that once felt so soft now cutting up your flesh, itching and burning. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

Aemond only snickered, “Poor girl, you have no idea how evil this world really is, huh? This is just a taste of what’s to come. Be grateful this is all I want…for now.” Aemond forced your mouth open, squeezing your cheeks together and forcing his fingers into your mouth, choking you until he replaced them with his cock. “Ah, such a sweet, innocent, unused mouth. Adam never made you do this, hm?”

You couldn’t force back your tears, copiously flowing down your cheeks along with the drool on your chin. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat over and over, you gagged and almost vomited until he gave you a breather, pulling back and looking over your tear stained face with a sickening awe. “So pretty…prettier than me, I must admit.” His eyes darkened in jealousy. “That bastard can’t possibly love you more than me once I’m finished with you.”

In one swift movement, Aemond had you on all fours, shoving your face into the ground, dirt and grass covering the side of your face uncomfortably. You screamed as he shoved his cock inside you in one thrust, filling and stretching you almost impossibly wide. The pain had your ears ringing and vision going white, sweat beading out of every pore in your skin as he forced you to take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Did Adam never take you to bed? I figured as much, such prudish creatures. Don’t worry, my sweet little lamb, I’ll break you in for him.”

As if you thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, his brutal thrusts had you sobbing, the amount of tears you shed causing the soil to turn into mud beneath you, grass getting underneath your fingernails with how hard you were holding on to keep yourself from passing out. “S-Stop, please, mercy!” You begged.

“Mercy?” He growled. “I’ve begged for mercy too many times to count, I never received any. Neither shall you. Now shut up and take my cock like a good little lamb.”

“God…please…make this end…” You whispered into the ground, only to get a mocking laugh in return.

“He can’t save you now.”

Aemond’s thrusts were wild, trying to make it as painful for you as possible, watching your blood drip down your inner thighs and making a little puddle on the ground, staining the grass. But along with the blood, an almost white fluid made a ring around the base of his cock. “Oh, starting to enjoy this now, are you?” He grinned evilly, gripping your hair to pull you back against his chest, his other hand reaching around to hold your neck.

As much as you hated to admit it, yes. The pain slowly went away, all that was left was an achy pressure in the pit of your stomach, a burning that seemed to grow in intensity with every harsh thrust he made. “S-Stop…”

Aemond hummed in disapproval. “Why do you resist the pleasure you feel? Give in to sin and you can have anything you want in the world.”

“No…” You said to yourself. “No!”

Aemond chuckled. “So defiant, I like that. Makes it more fun to break you.”

You gasped as Aemond reached down to rub circles around a spot you didn’t even know existed, the sensation overwhelming but you didn’t want it to stop, though you’d never admit this. It made the pressure in your stomach only grow faster, moans escaping you and getting louder the more he touched you. “What’s happening?” You cried, panicking.

“You’re about to reach your peak, little lamb. You’re about to feel one of the most pleasurable of sins, and all because of me.”

“No, stop! Don’t make me, please!”

But it was too late, you reached the point of no return. It felt like you were going to die, the feeling was so intense, your whole body convulsing and spasming around Aemond’s cock. And with it, a dark feeling overtaking you.

You groaned loudly, an almost growling noise, as you reached your peak, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, only to come back as black voids. There was no white in your eyes nor color, just darkness. Your fingernails pushed out, being replaced with claws. Your canines fell out, being replaced with fangs. A brutal ache in your skull had you crying out, blood dripping down your face as a horn on either side of your head grew from beneath your skin.

“Yes, dark little lamb, give in to me.” Aemond cooed, and for the first time, you listened to him.

Aemond flipped you onto your back, looking down at you in a mocking admiration, grinning as your skin grayed and veins went red, beginning to resemble one of his demons.

He was taken by surprise as you flipped him onto his back with a shocking amount of power, shoving his cock back inside you and began to ride him violently. “There she is, there’s my fallen angel.” He groaned as his cock began to pulse, your walls squeezing him just right as you made yourself come around him as many times as you could, the feeling addicting to you now. “Fuck, do you want my seed, little Eve?”

“Don’t call me that.” You growled, scratching up his chest with your new claws, drawing copious amounts of blood, your now forked tongue lapping up the red fluid. The added pain made Aemond reach his peak quickly, his cum filling you to the brim. With one more cry, you sprouted dark wings, fluttering softly but just enough it brought you to your feet.

Aemond stood up with a grin, watching as his cum dripped down your shaky legs, mixing with your blood. “You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hm, now what shall I call you, if not Eve?” You pondered his question for a brief moment, before ultimately deciding your new name and your new fate.

“Lilith.”

hey y'all, thought i'd post a little something something for Valentine's Day. I wrote the first half of this months ago and then i got a boyfriend and stopped writing but i really liked this idea and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed!

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#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen

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nellycanwrite · 1 year

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A Request

Part 1 of the “The Request” Series || Attuma x Talokanil!Princess!Reader

Summary: As the daughter of the feathered serpent god, you had always felt the pressure of living up to your father’s name. But you never had to worry; Attuma was always there to quell your fears and follow your will to the ends of the earth.

Or, in which Attuma swears his undying loyalty and love for you, even if it meant being as shameless as to declare his love to a princess when he was but a mere warrior.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 10.9K

Warnings: None. Just pure fluffy goodness. If you include a slightly overprotective Dad!Namor then yes, he’s the warning. Maybe a little bit of childhood friends to lovers. A whole lot of Princess x Warrior.

Note: It is worthy to note that I have not included any deep Yucatec Maya phrases (besides the terms of endearment) despite the Talokanil speaking in their native tongue as respect to their language. Therefore their mother tongue shall be labeled with italics.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

K'uk'ulkan had never felt as much loss as he had the day he had lost your mother. Yet there lay bittersweet joy; for the heir to the throne of Talokan had breathed their first breath and let out a cry so strong it beckoned the creatures of the deep sea to their bidding.

You were born a wee thing; weak and fragile as the old shells that littered the floors of the sea. Yet you held strong in the arms of your father as he witnessed his wife lifelessly lay in their shared chambers. The handmaidens and wet nurses all wept and mourned at the loss of their queen, the ocean swayed with the waves of its people's grief. You cried with your father's subjects as if you had understood the passing of Talokan's queen mother, but K'uk'ulkan never shed a tear, no.

He was a king to his people. He was the protector of his nation. A God was he revered by both land and sea.

He was your father.

And he dared not to weep in front of the children he held so dear—for even in the heartache of his loss does he remember the weight of his divine majesty and countenance to his people.

“The queen of Talokan has passed,” K'uk'ulkan swallowed the lump that formed on his throat as he bit back bitter tears. Tears that he will never show his people in a sign of great weakness, “yet she would not have wished for us to mourn in sadness. She brought us a gift that none could ever compare. She would have wished for us to celebrate in her absence for the birth of our child—Talokan's first heir.”

The you who had been presented with a crown and a scepter of your kingdom's rule since your birth inherited your father's features; the ears that pointed to the heavens as a sign of the divine blood that flowed through your veins, the golden skin that the sun had seemed to kiss in great exhalation to your birth, and the wings of heaven bestowed upon your ankles.

You were undoubtedly his child. The heir to K’uk’ulkan’s great nation.

You were loved by both land and sea, perhaps a gift from your late grandmother's love for the surface, for when you visit the land and take gulps of air do you stay breathing and when you step into the rocks of your father's study do you remain kissed by the sun. You did not change into the color of the sea like the maids that have cared for you, instead, you remained the same color as your own father when he sits idly on dry land.

At the tender age of seven did you realize the weight of the name of your father. You aspired to become like him, to fly like him, to lead the people like he did in childish wonder. He showed you the land that your ancestors once owned, the burial sight of your late grandmother, Fen, and the beauty that came with your motherland.

You yearned for the sights of the surface world, craved for the sun that illuminated the sky—not the one that your father had curated all those years ago, but the one that sits amongst the clouds of the surface—and you whispered wistful wishes to walk into the luscious green of the land that was unknown to you.

But your father forbids you to go further than the coves of Talokan's entrance. The sole heir to the throne of your nation should be safe. Protected. You were only allowed to go up into the surface every three months, a leniency that your father had so mercifully given you, and stare at the land dwelling wildlife that would so cross your vision.

You were merely stuck in the watchful eyes of your guards as you gazed with great longing at the mountains so far from your reach and the forests that would call your name.

Despite the love that you had for the beauties of the surface world, you loved your people and your great nation of the deep sea. You loved your father and tried your best to live up to the name of K'uk'ulkan. At the age of eleven you were made aware of your duties to your people. You had made sure that those duties were fulfilled despite the protests of your elders for being so young; that the beloved princess of Talokan need not to carry on the mantle of her royal duties just yet. But you worked hard to outshine your peers to preserve the honor of your father.

K’uk’ulkan could not be any prouder than he is now.

But the pedestal that you stood on was lonely. You did not have many friends, not because your father was protective of you and had guards at your beck and call, but because you were always so nervous to converse with the other Talokanil children.

What if they didn’t like you? What if they decided that your status as a princess would hinder their relationship with you? What if they didn’t see you as a prospect to rule them in the future when your father passes the baton of his majesty to you?

How ironic must it be for the princess of a great nation cower before the idea of friendship to her own people.

But that had changed when your father let you meet two Talokanil children; Namora and Attuma.

You knew Namora as your relative—your father’s cousin, to be exact—and sometimes came and went into the palace when you studied. But you never did get the chance to talk to her. You were far too anxious to try and talk to someone whose aura was as intense as hers, even when she’s just a few years older than you.

“They said they wanted to be your friend, in waal.” my child, he said. Both of them shifted nervously from where they stood, toy spears hidden behind their backs as they fidgeted in place. You noticed how Namora elbowed the boy Attuma on the ribs. He glared at her albeit playfully and said nothing as he behaved.

You have always noticed the two of them from afar when you studied near your father's throne. They were always rowdy, always hitting each other with their spears clumsily. Despite this, they always laughed and took everything in a merry stride. They never ceased to amaze you.

Even though Namora was far smaller than Attuma (or any other Talokanil child your age, really), she always won their little play-fights. Their roughhousing caused other children to stay clear of them, but you always found them fascinating. You never knew they wanted to be your friends. You have never as much as held a proper conversation with them except for a few nervous waves and panicked scrambling on your part when they caught you staring.

“My…friends?” It was your turn to fidget nervously, your hands clasping together and your thumbs twiddling against each other whilst you looked down. You felt the water shift as your father swam towards you, his tender gaze calming you down when his figure covered you from the curious eyes of the Talokanil children.

“That's right. They want to play with you. I'm sure you were wishing for the same, no?” He chuckled knowingly. You felt heat rise from the back of your neck and crawl up your cheeks—your father had seen you staring at them while they were playing almost everyday!

Nervously, you nodded ever slowly. There was no lie to his claims. You truly did wish for them to become your friends.

Attuma's patience must have run out when you were taking your time to reply to your father. You shrieked in surprise when you met the biggest grin you had seen in your life from just above you, an incisor clearly missing in the front of his mouth. K'uk'ulkan laughed and gently coaxed the boy down to your level, his hair flowing gracefully with the water as your father grabbed his ankles and lowered him in front of you.

“Wanna play with us?” You blinked at his straightforwardness. You glanced at your father for help, but he merely chuckled and gestured for you to answer.

“I—well—um…” He was too close to you that you felt like fainting from your own nerves.

“Attuma, don't be rude,” Attuma grunted when Namora appeared by his side and delivered a firm whack to his head with a toy spear. You breathed out a centering exhale before shooting Namora a thankful look. She huffed at Attuma, “you might scare her. And you just swam over the king!”

“I do not mind. But be more mindful next time, Attuma. You must not swim over your elders.” K'uk'ulkan chuckled endearingly at the children's antics. He already knew how rambunctious they would be whenever he passed by them play-fighting.

Attuma nodded with a gapped-tooth grin but K'uk'ulkan doubts he would really listen to him. But that was alright—he has plenty of time to learn respect. The king of Talokan wishes for these children to be their mischievous selves a little while longer and enjoy their carefree lives as young Talokanil.

K'uk'ulkan notices you fidget once again when Namora turns her attention to you, just as eager to make you their new friend. You try to make out words with broken sentences, yet there was no right greeting that would come. You would deflate when Namora would hold the reins of the conversation again. You failed to introduce yourself proudly and your embarrassment made K'uk'ulkan coo—how precious could his princess be?

He chuckles and patted Namora and Attuma on the crowns of their heads, successfully diverting their attention away from you and into his benevolent smile.

“She's a little nervous, but she has a good heart. She also wishes to become your friend. But remember that you have to listen; it is the makings of a great warrior.”

“A great warrior?” Namor's eyes sparkled. Attuma stared at his king with wonder similar to the spark of Namora's eyes.

K'uk'ulkan chuckled and nodded. You chose this moment to swim to your father's side, hiding half of your body behind his own. You looked at Attuma and Namora curiously while they waited for their king's next words.

“A great warrior not only takes a spear and protects their people, but they listen as well. They listen to their people's cries and act upon their needs. It is also your duty to listen to your leaders—for they hold the burden of choice. Never forget that, my young warriors.”

Your father rubbed your back soothingly and pushed you gently forward. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as soon as you were in close proximity with the two Talokanil children.

“Now this is your first task your king asks of you; listen to what the princess has to say, understood?”

They were eagerly waiting for your next words, their bodies barely holding in their excitement. You would have swam away right then and there, but you steeled your resolve and took a deep breath.

You said your name with a stutter, but that did not deter you. Your father gave you a reassuring pat to your shoulder. It filled you with more confidence to look them straight into the eye and say;

“I—I wish to be your friend, Namora. Attuma.”

The children gleamed happily, the water shifting as they circled you in excitement. Attuma had it in himself to wrap his arms around you and giggle with such carefree mirth that it covered you in a sense of welcome. Of belonging.

“You don’t know how long we wanted to become your friend, princesa!” He exclaimed, his arms still wrapped around you firmly. His toy spear now lay discarded on the ocean floor but he didn’t seem to mind.

Overwhelmed with the attention, you stuttered and twitched in his embrace. But you didn’t feel uncomfortable; it was a pleasant feeling to finally have a friend. But you weren’t used to physical touches just yet.

A large hand pried you off of Attuma, your hair whipping around you as you were now brought back to your father’s side. You saw him smile cordially at the boy, albeit strained, as his eyes twitched ever so slightly.

“Now, we have to be gentle with the princess. There shall be no sudden touches in her presence, especially with you, Attuma.”

Attuma blinked and cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t question his king’s instructions.

Years have passed since you have befriended the rowdy young warriors that K’uk’ulkan looked upon with great fondness. You, along with Namora and Attuma, have trained under the wing of your father in the ways of the spear much to your new friends’ joy.

As the next heir to the throne of your nation, you always did your best to meet the expectations that came with the name of the daughter of the feathered serpent god. You would go to the fields of your farmers to oversee harvest, weave baskets with the elderly to help the storage of the new batch of produce, and join the scholars that studied vibranium so you would further verse yourself to the mineral that grew in abundance in your ocean floors.

They were once such a tedious task for you; something that you did out of necessity. But Namora and Attuma made it a point to follow you everywhere you go, help you with the work and doubling the yields of your effort, and they made you smile when you were far too tired after your duties.

Attuma had made it a habit to make you cling on his back as you swam back home. There was no reason for you to get more exhausted than you already were, he told you. And despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself falling into a habit as well.

You found your royal duties far more enjoyable with them by your side, and you absolutely awaited the time of the day where you were relieved of your duties to go and spend your time with them.

“Don’t you find studying boring?” Attuma asked you one day, his meticulous hands polishing his training spear near the drop of the deep trenches. You tilted your head as soon as you seated yourself beside him, your legs dangling on the steep edge.

“I don’t think so…the language of the surface dwellers is fascinating. I find it enjoyable to learn.”

“You’re better off not knowing their language,” Namora huffed as she emerged from the bottom of the trench, a small lamp containing bright vibranium sustaining you with much needed light. She held her training spear proudly by her side, freshly decorated with shells that she found down below, “you know what they did to our grandmothers and grandfathers. I don’t see why you want to learn so much about them.”

“It is my duty, Namora. Once I take the throne I might need to talk with the surface dwellers one day,” you looked down on your lap and fiddled with the jade bracelet your father had gifted you on your fifteenth birthday—one that once belonged to your grandmother, “and I’m just preparing…just in case.”

“We’d be dead before we let any of those surface dwellers see you, princesa,” Attuma nudged his shoulders against yours and grinned, “we’ll make sure you don’t even have to talk to them as long as we’re there to protect you.”

“Did father tell you to say that?”

“What? No!” You gave Attuma a squinted eye stare and hummed. He averted his eyes nervously, his hands now working on his spear with more fervor than before. You and Namora snickered at his plight.

“He did.” Namora confirmed your suspicions. You sighed but left it be. You knew your father was just trying to protect you, so you let him do as he pleases. Although you did not fully understand the depth of the weight of his responsibilities, you could still recognize the great sorrow that came with his hate for the surface world.

And you had kept quiet about your longing to go up into the land; for you knew how it would pain him to know that you bore as much love for the surface as you did for the love you had for your nation.

Attuma cleared his throat and straightened his back, the spear he had decorated with the teeth of hammerheads now lay by his side. He stared at you with such conviction that rendered you speechless in his presence, and the light from the faux sun that your father had created casted him in a glorious light that made your breath hitch in your throat and the feathers on your ankles bristle in anticipation.

“I’ll do my best to train hard, princesa. I’ll become strong enough to protect Talokan—to protect you—so that you won’t even have to worry about any surface dwellers by the time you will inherit the throne.”

You felt more heat rush from your neck and now up to your eyes, his words giving you so much joy that you could possibly even imagine.

You had a friend far more loyal than any of your own guards from your father’s command. And if there was one thing you had learned from your duties as princess, that was the honor that came with a loyal subject.

Your flustered surprise was eventually replaced with giggles when Namora hit Attuma on the head with the brunt side of her spear, her face contorting to one of lighthearted teasing.

“Do you really think you’re the only one training to be by the princess’ side? You’ll have to go through me first.”

“Then I’ll just have to train harder to beat you, Namora,” Attuma glanced at you and gave you a grin, “I’ll be the one to stand by the princess’ side.”

“You’ve never even beaten me once.” “There’s a first time for everything.”

She scoffed. “In your dreams.”

You stopped their little play-fight before it got too heated by pulling them closer to your side, your arms around their necks and laughing with such elation. You were thankful that they came into your lives and became your closest friends, and you would not ever want to see them change as you slowly aged with the sea.

“While the both of you train to become warriors, I’ll study even harder so I could be a queen that both of you will be proud to serve under. I don’t want your efforts to go to waste and serve a leader that’s incompetent.”

“You don’t have to do that, princesa. We shall follow you through the ends of the earth if need be. We already know that you outshine any ruler that came before and will come after you.”

“My father would not be too pleased if he heard you say that, Attuma.”

“He feels the same way, don’t worry.” Namora spoke in turn for the boy. You giggled when Attuma gave you a cheeky grin.

The three of you laughed with glee, unspoken promises now drifting with the currents of the outskirts of the capital city of your great nation.

It’s almost been a century since you have befriended them. A century since you have made your closest friends and aides. Namora and Attuma were always stuck by your side even when there were calls from their king to gather his strongest men. They gave you counsel, they gave you peace, they gave you protection in your times of need.

Nowadays, though, Namora has frequented your father’s side more likely than not—mostly because she was his cousin and his most exemplary warrior. Attuma was only second in skill compared to Namora, but he was still powerful in his own right.

You wondered when would your father hail them as generals; they deserve to be given the title for their service and their wit. You, as the princess of Talokan, can vouch for their competence.

“Where shall we go today, princesa?” Attuma asked you, his gait slowly inching closer to your own.

The boy you once knew had grown into a fine man. He had honed his body to withstand the greatest blows, turned himself into a living shield for your purpose and disposal. You did not want him to go into such extremities, but he always insisted. He even went as far as to hunt hammerhead sharks on his own and nearly killed himself in the process. The bites of hostiles were lodged firmly into his stomach, and the scars that littered his skin became trophies of his successful exploits.

You cried and cried beside him as you told him how stupid he was, how foolish he was to do everything in your name. How could he throw himself into danger just to train himself for your sake? It did not make sense to you, and you reckon that you will never understand the mind of a great warrior like Attuma.

Despite this, he comforted you and held you close to him; told you that he would welcome any sort of pain just so he could protect you from harm's way. You cried again and punched him in his abdomen—you were sure to tell your healers that you would be the one to patch up your reckless guard as an apology.

You felt his warmth from the water that surrounded you as it shifted when he tucked a strand of hair behind your pointed ears. You smiled.

“You can call me by my name, Attuma. You know that.”

“How dare I ever utter your name so casually?” He asked you almost incredulously. You sighed.

“We have been friends for over a century. You can be comfortable with me,” you turned to him with a pout, “please?”

“Is that an order?” He asked you, a trace of amusement from his quirked lip. You huffed and crossed your arms.

“You know I don't like giving orders, Attuma.”

“Then I shall continue calling you by your title, princesa.”

“And what if I ask you this as a request?” You swam closer to him, your pout breaking out into a knowing grin.

Attuma stayed silent, his head turned to avoid your piercing gaze. He felt heat from the back of his neck at your proximity, but he didn't dare move away from you.

You huffed.

“You're no fun.”

Attuma resisted the urge to chuckle. You looked at him in the corner of your eyes and smiled; you knew he couldn't resist it when you tried to make him laugh.

“And what of your errands today?” He asked you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. You blinked and swam towards him, pling his large bicep into the direction of your father's study.

“We've wasted much time, Attuma. Now come, we are going to the surface.” He nodded in affirmation and led you towards the entrance of the underwater cave systems your father introduced you to as a child. It was one of your favorite places, but your duties called you to the deeper parts of the sea to tend to your people.

As soon as you ascended, you saw the figure of your father dressed in his cloak as he painted murals upon the walls. Beside him was Namora, her mask on her face and her pallor now blue for being in land. You regarded your father with a bow, gestured him with the sign of your people’s respect, and slowly ascended into his study.

“Father.” you called out to him. He paused from his painting and smiled at you, his eyes filling with so much love that it was unlike the name the surface dwellers cursed him to be.

“In princesa,” my princess, he greeted you, reaching out to wipe the saltwater away from your eyes, “what brings you here?”

“It is the time of the year to visit the surface, father. I was just here to let you know before I went.” His face steeled much like the other months across the century you had told him. But it was not in a place of anger—it was in a place of worry for your well-being.

“I trust you to remember all that I have taught you. Return as soon as possible, understood?” You nodded and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tight in assurance.

“You do not have to worry. You have taught me well. And Attuma will be with me while I am out, so I shall be safe in his hands.”

K’uk’ulkan glanced behind you, now regarding Attuma with a nod of acknowledgement as he placed his mask on his face. Attuma bowed his head in respect and tightened the hold on his spear. The king’s brows furrowed.

“If you bring Namora with you—”

“Father,” you cut him off, “I will be alright. I will not do anything to endanger myself nor Attuma. I will merely visit the borders of the reef, is all. I’m sure our warriors have already scouted the area before they were called back.”

“In waal…”

“We always go through this every three months. I do not doubt your worries, but place your trust in me and the warrior I have chosen.”

Attuma straightened his back a tad bit, his chest rising in pride. He met eyes with Namora and grinned behind his mask. Namora simply replied with a silent roll of her eyes.

K’uk’ulkan swallowed a lump on his throat and sighed. He knew you were right. He trusted you enough that you would be safe, especially when someone as skilled as Attuma were to be by your side. It was the surface that he did not trust. It took so much from him and his forefathers even before Talokan came to be. He did not want to lose you to the claws of the surface world.

He would have volunteered to come with you, to make sure you were safe, but one look from Namora was all he needed to know that he was needed in the council in just a few moments.

He sighed. There was no stopping you when you had your mind set on a task.

“Stay safe.” He gently held the back of your head and ducked down to meet your forehead. You hummed and closed your eyes, squeezing his hand in assurance.

“You sound as if I am going to war,” you joked, “I shall return safe. I promise. It is not something that I have not done before.”

“You know your strengths, my daughter. But be wary, still. Negligence is the first sign of weakness,” he separated himself from you and turned towards the wall mounted with spears. He took one of his own and gave it to you, the vibranium of the weapon shimmering under the light of the luminescent algae. It felt balanced. Powerful. He then smiled, “and never forget your weapon.”

You chuckled and bowed your head in respect, the spear now by your side.

“Yes, father.”

K’uk’ulkan turns to Attuma and beckons him forth. The warrior obeyed with no hesitance and bowed before his king. You watched as your father nodded to himself and placed a hand on Attuma’s shoulder.

“She’s a bit of a handful, so look after her, Attuma.” You gawked at him.

“Father!”

“I will do as you say, in ajawo,” my king, he said. The warrior dared to look up and showed his conviction to his king, “I will keep her safe—even when she is a handful.”

“You did not have to agree with everything my father says!”

Namora cleared her throat and cheekily chimed in. “K'uk'ulkan is our king. Whatever he says we agree to, princesa.”

K’uk’ulkan ignored your huffs of protest and Namora’s silent laughter as he squinted at the man, the hand that lay on his shoulder now tightening in warning. Attuma held his ground and did not yield to his king’s hold. He knew the reason for his king’s aggression; it came from a place of protectiveness. You were his only daughter after all.

And Attuma was a man who held a century-long love for you, something that K’uk’ulkan wasn’t particularly fond of.

But you were too stubbornly attached to him that no scheme that K’uk’uklan thought of would separate the two of you. He was far too wrapped around your fingers to fully say no to your whims. The king’s only saving grace is the fact that you were far too oblivious to notice the affections of your own guard.

K’uk’ulkan felt a sliver of sympathy for Attuma. Just a tad bit.

He narrowed his eyes. “And there shall be no…detours along the way, understood? Keep the princess safe, no more than that.”

“Yes, in ajawo.” With a final nod, K'uk'ulkan released his grip from his warrior's soldiers and bid a final farewell before being led out by Namora to the depths of Talokan. She gave Attuma a knowing glance and bowed her head before you.

“Be careful, princesa. The world will incur K'uk'ulkan's wrath if you return scathed.” She joked. But knowing your father, you did not doubt that he would burn the world if you would come back harmed in any way; more reasons for you to stay careful for your visit.

You smiled. “I will be careful, Namora. Do not worry. I have Attuma with me as well.”

She nodded and followed after her king to the water, now disappearing into your view. You faced Attuma and gave him a grin.

“Let's go visit the surface.”

You knew the underwater caves like the back of your hand. You weaved through the dark waters, greeting the guards hidden by the rocks. They bowed their heads and regarded you with the gesture of your people, a courtesy fit only for the daughter of their god and king.

You smiled to yourself when Attuma swam forward when sunlight peeked through the entrance of the surface, his spear drawn and ready by his side. He looked so focused and attentive, his whole body on high alert. You giggled as you reached him and held his hand, squeezing it tightly while looking into his eyes.

“You are too stiff. Nothing will harm us here.” You told him. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head.

“I am your aide. It is only natural for me, in princesa.”

“I only wish for you to be at ease, Attuma,” you tugged him to the direction of the light, the sun now making itself known to the both of you. Attuma squinted at the sudden brightness; he wasn’t used to seeing something as intense as the real sun, after all. It was his first time visiting the surface world, “you will love the sights, I promise you.”

Attuma felt wrong to be swimming beside you like you were equals. No aide of the high blood of Talokan should even dare to swim in stride beside a warrior who bore no rank. But by your side, he felt safe and welcomed.

He did not feel fear despite it being the first time he had ever visited the surface world. Rather, he felt it to be…intimate, in a way. You trusted him wholeheartedly, put your safety in his hands as you ventured outside the safety of your own kingdom, and shared the experience that he knew to be significant to you even if you did not tell anyone your sentiments.

But he knew. He always knew.

And he would protect you in great fealty as you explore the land that you so loved, even though he knew it would anger his own king to grant your taboo affection for the surface world.

Away from the prying eyes of the other Talokanil, he allowed himself to indulge in his selfish desires and swam closer to you; your shoulders almost touching, hands tightly intertwined, and his heart finally free of the formalities that came with being your guard.

He let himself become a man whose soul reached out to you in longing.

Your heads broke through the water and were hit by the rays of the golden sun. You let Attuma adjust to the light for a few moments, his hands shielding his eyes as he tried to view the sun from between his fingers. You watched his skin slowly turn blue as the air hit his skin, and you had to smile ever so slightly as you watched him marvel at the green forests just across the beach.

“Your mask.” You reminded him, the hand that was intertwined with his tightening in your hold. He nodded albeit meekly, seemingly embarrassed to have forgotten to equip himself in the midst of his awe, and let go of your hand to make sure his mask was secure.

Attuma already missed the warmth as soon as he willed himself to part from you in a respectful distance, now aware how shameless he was to have succumbed to his own desires.

You guided him to the rocks that overlooked the beach, just by the edge of the corals that your people have grown to create a border for those who visited the surface. It was a reminder on how you were never truly free to roam the surface and discover the riches beyond your own kingdom.

The stories your father had told you plagued your mind, but beyond the violence that your forefathers have witnessed, robbed of the land that was yours by birthright, you wanted to see for yourself the motherland that your grandmother loved. You were angry at the surface dwellers, yes. You raged at the thought of the conquistadors that tainted your ancestral home.

But you never did loathe the surface. You just wanted to connect to the land of your ancestors that you were stripped of.

You were broken from your thoughts when you heard the squelch of water on rock. You looked beside you to see Attuma in full attention, his visage that of a man in full guard. You would have laughed if you saw him so serious in the midst of such a peaceful afternoon, but you knew how much his duty to you and your king meant to him.

Attuma stood by your side whilst you leaned back and rested your feet on the water. You patted the space beside you, but he shook his head. You pouted.

“Join me to rest. You are not bound by the rules of my father here,” you told him, your face cracking into a mischievous smile, “be at ease, Attuma.”

“Is that an order?” He gave you a glance, his eyes twinkling under the sun. Only now did you appreciate his dark gaze. It was as intense as it was full of life. You giggled and patted the empty space beside you once again.

“A request.”

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes locking into yours and sending shivers down your spine. You held his gaze, the water on your skin turning cold when the breeze hit your flesh. With a huff, he put down his spear and sat next to you, his hand dangerously close to your own.

“If you’ll allow me.”

In silence did you bask in the beauty of the faraway beach that should have been inherited to you by your ancestors. The lands that stretched across the plains and the jungles of vivid colors would have been yours to rule by your father’s side. It pained you to know that you cannot even set foot on those beaches.

It was the order of your father. The order of your king.

An order to protect you from the surface dwellers that took your grandmother from him.

It only served to remind you that—despite the feathered ankles that promised you freedom—you were caged in this lonely corner of the earth, away from the adventures that you wanted to experience in full.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked your guard, your eyes following the birds that idly preened themselves on the branches. Attuma stared at you from the corner of his eyes, his lips turning into a smile as you leaned forward in interest.

“Quite so.” His heart skipped a beat when your eyes twinkled in amazement, your gaze never wandering from the land.

“Would it be shameless of me to long for the surface?” You asked him suddenly. Attuma shook his head quickly.

“Never.”

“Speak your mind. I did not ask you to indulge me and curry my favor,” you sighed and wrought your fingers together, your hand now leaving the proximity of your guard’s own, “I ask you for counsel, Attuma. You are one of the few people that I trust.”

Attuma was silent as he mulled over your question. An aide to the heir of the throne must only listen and follow their whims. The will of their masters were the will of their followers; he dare not disobey such courtesy.

But in the freedom of the duty that binded him to such rules by your order, he granted himself full autonomy.

“It might be so, in princesa,” you looked at him curiously. He held the urge to submit to you, to take back the words of his own opinion, and continued on, “you are the heir to Talokan, the nation built on the suffering of our ancestors who fled the land to hide in the sea. To long for the surface is a defiance to their dying will.”

“But we were robbed of our ancestral lands. What if I long to get it back? To let our people walk in the motherland that we once came from? To let them see this; the beauty that they were deprived of when we were chased off our own inheritance?” “Then you should be prepared for war.”

He looked directly into your eyes, ones that held such young wisdom and hope. But he knew from the countless battles he fought that to reclaim the stolen land you wished to rule is to declare a fight that you were far too merciful to lead.

“To reclaim the right that we once owned…you must be ready to shed blood; both the blood of the surface and the blood of your people. But to declare battle you must reveal our nation. Our king’s will shall not allow such a thing.”

Attuma watched as you lowered your head, trapped in the swirl of your thoughts as you continued to deliberate the weight of his words. He flagrantly allowed himself to reach for your hand first, draw circles on the back of your hand tenderly, and scooted himself closer so his hulking gait would protect you from the prying eyes of the world.

You squeezed his hand with yours, your breath stuttering at your next words.

“And what if I still desire to reclaim our land back, Attuma?” You looked up and held his gaze, your eyes now steeling itself to one of conviction.

He smiled.

“Then I shall shed blood for your will, in princesa.”

You searched for any sort of hesitation in his strong features, to try and coax out any sort of loose ends of his loyalty. But you saw nothing of such sort; there only lay pure faith to your very existence, one that you recognize as unyielding.

You stared at him right in the eye. It was piercing, cold. One that beckoned utmost honesty from your aide. It was not a simple decision to make—even the words you have uttered this very moment would be considered blasphemous. Outright treacherous.

“Even if it means to defy the orders of your king?”

He did not waver as he replied.

“You are the one that I serve. My loyalty lies with you.” He took his spear and knelt before you, his one knee digging into the rock in which you lay. He pierced his weapon down into the earth, took your hand to rest upon his cheek, and presented himself to the utmost fidelity.

“Have you not sworn your service under the name of my father?”

“I have sworn nothing,” he practically growled, his grip on his spear tightening, “I long for nothing more than to swear my piety to you. I am indebted to K’uk’ulkan; I revere him as my god and king. Yet I cannot stand the thought of offering my loyalties to anyone else but you.”

You felt your heart throb against your chest, your eyes stinging with wet tears. It was a feeling foreign to you. The waves usually wipe your tears away at the bottom of the sea. But here on land, you wore your heart on your sleeve. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that urged you to cover your mouth to stifle your joyous sobs.

In the face of the man you had grown up with, in the presence of such undying loyalty did you fail to mask your elation. Yet your head was muddled with confusion—why was he always so devoted to you? Why would he risk being cast out when your father still sits on the throne and swears his loyalties to you? Why was he so willing to defy the orders of his king for your selfish whims?

You knew the weight of a warrior's oath. It was not something to be taken lightly. Warriors would swear upon the names of leaders who have fought countless battles, led the charge to warfare, and those who were considered gods like your father.

You were none of those.

You were not your father.

“Why?” You asked him, your hands trembling against his cheek. “Compared to my father, I am nothing. Why would you swear your loyalty to me when I have nothing to give you in return? It will still be years—centuries, even—before I could inherit the throne and bear the title of queen mother. So why?”

Silence fell between the two of you, the waves of the high afternoon playing the symphonies of its motherlands. You felt like you were suffocating despite the beauty that surrounded you while you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Attuma slowly raised his head and kissed the palm of your hand. It brought a wave of heat from the back of your neck to your cheeks, and even the tips of your pointed ears warmed at the gesture.

“Will you allow me to speak out of turn?” He asked you, his voice uncharacteristically soft. You blinked back the tears that obscured your vision and nodded.

“Speak your mind, Attuma.”

He breathed in a stuttering breath, the hand that held yours tightening and trembling. It made you nervous; a warrior such as he, the embodiment of a shield that protects his nation, stuttered and shook in your hold. He could overpower you at any second, purge the world of your existence, but here he was, weak and vulnerable in your presence.

He locked eyes with you, those gorgeous oaken eyes stared deep into your very being without reservation. You found yourself feeling faint, as if you have fallen into a pleasant trap that you weren’t too keen on getting out of.

And with a steady voice he said;

“I love you, in princesa. I always have since we were children. I only breathe to serve you, only live to please you. If you so asked me to burn the world and slay your enemies, then I will show you the ashes of their bones on a jaden chest. If you asked me to become your shield, then I shall parry every blade for you and protect you with my last breath. If you asked me to become your spear, then the blood of your foes shall dye the sea in red…”

He paused as he drew closer, the heat of his body enveloping you in a sensation of great adoration. He gripped your hand tighter, his lips lingering on your palms as he leaned further into your touch.

“...and if you asked me to become your beloved, then I will become the most faithful man you would ever lay your eyes upon—for your joys are my joys, and your sorrows are mine to bear.”

You felt your throat constrict, the heat from your face now traveling down to the tips of your fingers down to the very ends of your feathered ankles. Your wings bristled and shook, your breath hitching at every breath, and you felt the sudden urge to look away from those unwavering eyes. But the gravity of his own magnetism was enough to drive you back in; to never tear your gaze away from the man that confessed his love for you.

Though this begs the question; did you love him back?

Attuma must have misunderstood your silence for rejection, so he slowly removed your hands from his cheeks and bowed his head in shame.

“I have spoken out of turn. I apologize,” he held his spear tightly, but he never removed himself from his bow—a sign of his submission to you, “whether or not you accept my feelings, I will still stay by your side. I will serve under you, make my oath in the witness of K’uk’ulkan of my loyalty to you. I will ask for nothing more.”

Your heart broke at how easily it was for him to apologize. No person should ever apologize for the feelings that they bear. It only proved how devoted the great warrior was to you; for him to present his feelings of love to you and still offer his loyalty in the face of rejection.

You recounted the days of your youth down to the decades worth of memories with him. How could you have been so blind to have ignored the signs of his affections? How blinded were you with your duties that you allowed yourself to turn away from the subtle declarations of his feelings for you?

How foolish were you to actually dismiss your own feelings for him? You love Attuma. You always have.

“Why have you not said anything in the century we have been together?” You asked him, your voice low and meek. You did not want to lose the warmth of his skin, so you gently lifted his head with both of your hands and let him meet your eyes.

You saw the gaze of your warrior waver.

“My duty is to protect you. How dare I be so impertinent as to bear feelings for the daughter of my own king?”

You shook your head and leaned in to rest your forehead against his. You heard the clatter of his vibranium spear on the rocks and into the water below. But you simply did not care at that moment.

“You are never impertinent, not when I bear the same love for you as you have for me.”

You heard his breath hitch. The hands that lay dutifully to his side now flying up to your face and hold your cheeks so delicately. In the large and dependable hands of your warrior did you feel safe and loved. It was unlike the other times that he had shown you affection when you were merely just friends.

What were you now, you wondered, now that you and him share the same feelings.

In that moment of solace did Attuma realize his place, but he did not dare remove his hands from you. He ghosted his fingers over your pointed ears, tangled his hands with your wet hair, and held you tight like you were the most precious thing in the sea.

He was but a mere warrior—a shameless peasant whose hands had brazenly touched the skin of his master.

“I am just a warrior without a title. You cannot possibly love me as I am.”

“But I do. I just have never realized it sooner, in yakunaj.” My love, an endearment that made Attuma’s heart flutter and weak against your hands.

“And when we are in the eyes of scrutiny, what then should you do?”

“It matters not, my dear warrior.”

“But your majesty—!”

“Am I not the heir to the throne of Talokan? Am I not the princess whose rule is imminent in the witness of your king? Of whom I shall love is a matter of my own choice that not even the feathered serpent god could refute.”

You drew in closer and wrapped your arms around him. He was strong and powerful, but in your arms did he surrender himself. He was not the warrior you knew him to be. In your arms, he was just a man who held a century worth of ardor.

“I dare not disgrace you, in princesa. I have nothing in my name but the battles that I have fought as a mere soldier.”

He removed himself from you and held you tenderly by the cheeks. You leaned against his touch, completely surrendering to the feelings that you have long since ignored since the beginning. He inched himself closer and continued to speak with great affection.

“But if I would be so bold to ask for you to wait; wait for me to garner titles of my own, build the foundations of my exploits, and ask you again to become mine, would you be so merciful as to grant such a plea?”

You stared at his resolve, the gaze of the man you have realized you have loved now asking you for the mercy to wait. You cupped his strong jaw and caressed his cheek with your thumb as you said;

“I will grant you mercy, in yakunaj, only if you fulfill my wish.”

He became alert, his body ready to grant your desires.

“Anything, in princesa. Anything for your majesty.”

“Then I wish for you to call me by my name, I beg you. We bear more than just pleasantries of warrior and royal.”

He gave you a smile, one that even his mask could not hide, and leaned in to touch his forehead against yours.

“Is that an order?”

You smiled.

“A request.”

It was merely a few decades later that the great capital city of Talokan was abuzz with the whispers of a great blessing bestowed upon their royal heir. It lit the fire of pride within the citizens of the hidden nation, a pride that K’uk’ulkan wore with high regard as he descended to present himself on the forefront of his throne.

Their darling princess, the radiant pearl of the deep sea, was ready to assume the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s legacy.

As your citizens have revered your father as the god king of your people, they have revered you as the same; a deity whose hands extended to the waters to create a shield of protection, a divine being whose mercy radiates the warmth of a thousand suns, the daughter of the feathered serpent god whose wings carried you through the winds of battle through the century. Your chest bloomed with unending bliss when you realized you've lived up to the name of your father—an entity that you've molded yourself into the likeness of.

You had held the expectations of the name of K’uk’ulkan to your very heart, and you were thrilled at the fact that your father had acknowledged your efforts in the witness of your people.

Your kingdom cheered and praised your name as you descended into the throne room from above, the feathered headpiece similar to your father’s symbolizing your authority as heir apparent of Talokan. Your father extended his hand for you to take, and you had done so with such grace befitting of your title as radiant pearl of the sea.

And there he had presented you with a throne of your own, just below the teeth of the monster of the deep oceans that he had slain many years ago. It was decorated with the finest of jade, vibranium, and gold with the likeness of an open shell. Compared to his throne that was decorated with the splendor of his long battles, yours was the embodiment of the abundant riches of your nation.

It was a symbol, perhaps, that the toil of your father’s work had borne fruit of great wealth to Talokan and passed down to the generations that would come next.

The radiant pearl of the sea had finally assumed her reign as heir apparent after a century of her rule by the feathered serpent god’s side, and there was no one in the kingdom who would oppose to the majesty of K’uk’ulkan’s daughter—not because she had the blood of their king in her veins and the feathered ankles that proved her divine lineage—but because of her love for her people and the duties that she had so diligently carried with grace.

K’uk’ulkan swam to your side and guided you to rest upon your new throne. It was a new feeling for you, one that could not compare to the childish wonder that you had just sitting on the lap of your father when you were still a wee babe. In the high seat of your throne did you overlook the citizens that had adored you, watched as they bowed their heads and put their hands in the likeness of a serpent’s mouth as respect to your inauguration.

As much as you loved to see your people acknowledge you, you could not find a glimpse of your best friend and secret lover. To you, their opinions were the only ones that mattered. It would not feel as joyous as it is if they were not to witness your greatest achievements.

Where were they, you wondered. They promised to be here in time for your ceremony.

“Something troubles you, in waal.” your father beside you, the feathers from his headpiece tickling the sides of your cheek. You gave him a smile, one that masked your worries, and found comfort in the hands that gripped yours reassuringly.

“Namora and Attuma are not here,” you supplied him, your eyes scanning the crowd of your people, “I worry for them. They promised they would come.”

K’uk’ulkan smiles and brings his hand to caress the base of your neck tenderly and rest his decorated forehead on your own. Your breath, which you didn’t realize had become labored, instantly calmed at the mere comfort of your father.

“Quell your nerves, my daughter. They will come.” With a knowing smile, your father separated himself from you and swam up to sit in the jaws of his own throne. The people all cheered while chanting the words of praise to Talokan’s honor.

K’uk’ulkan puts his hand up slowly and everyone falls into a hush. The air was still buzzing, the water under your command feeling the energy of everyone’s bated breaths as they awaited the words of their king.

“We honor the place of my only child as the rightful heir of Talokan. She has proven herself worthy of such a title for a century, and the seas have blessed us with such excellence that no one could dare defy. The future of Talokan is bright.”

Your people cheered and hollered, yet your eyes still strain to find your best friend and lover. You tried your best not to feel upset, but you felt a painful twist on your heart.

Where were they? It was unlike them to break their promises, especially your beloved warrior, Attuma.

“Not only do we celebrate the coronation of my daughter’s place in my council, but we celebrate the oath of our two new generals.” your father continued, your head snapping up at the familiar silhouette of your secret lover up the grand entrance of your underwater throne room. Your heart settled and you smiled in great pride as your father presented them at last.

��Namora and Attuma, the new grand generals of Talokan.”

They extruded such power as they descended ever so slowly, the light of the vibranium sun creating a halo of light around their bodies. They wore new armor that suited their character; the likeness of the spines of a lionfish adorned the body of your best friend, Namora, and the skull of a hammerhead shark and the spikes of its teeth littering every crevice of Attuma’s plated armor. Both of them held their respective weapons made of vibranium, and you could only smile at how proud you were for them.

You couldn't help but ogle at the sight of your warrior. You had kept your word and waited for him to finally gather his own accomplishments before asking for your hand. But that did not stop you from sneaking off and relishing yourselves in each other’s company. No one had ever suspected anything yet, but you gathered that your people were still under the impression that Attuma only bears one-sided love for you.

Oh your poor love, you didn’t mean to make him wait for so long.

You wondered when he would finally ask for your hand, to finally make your blooming romance known to your father and your citizens. It filled you with warmth just thinking about the possibilities.

You and Attuma locked eyes as soon as they had finished their descent, his eyes raking across your figure sat on your jeweled throne. He felt the need to kiss you right then and there, a privilege he had not yet taken across the decades of your secret romance in respect to his promise. He dared not touch you so inappropriately when you were not yet his, but he was sure to finally claim you as his own.

You were a jewel in Attuma’s eyes. A gem fit to be heralded around in great praise to your charm. Although your beauty spoke wonders of your outward appearance, you were a strong warrior, maybe even as strong as Namora. You are wise like your father, and you cared for your kingdom in the ways that a mother would.

You were crowned princess of Talokan, heir to the throne of K’uk’ulkan’s majesty, and the future queen mother of your nation.

Attuma could not even begin to describe in words such a blessing that fell into his hands so tenderly.

As soon as they were done taking their oath, bowed before you and K’uk’ulkan to swear their undying fidelity to your nation of Talokan, Attuma and Namora shared one look before your warrior ascended alone, careful to keep his gait below your eyes and on the feet of your throne. Your people fell into a hush, the momentary celebration ceasing to wait for Attuma’s next words.

“In princesa,” he started, his eyes looking up to lock eyes with your father, “K’uk’ulkan. If I may speak.”

“Attuma,” he regarded the warrior, his head held high in authority, “what do you wish to say?”

“My fealty lies with no one but the princess,” he bowed low and presented presented his spear by the jewels that adorned your throne, “the oath I shall take is one reserved to be of service of her, and if she wills me to serve under you, K’uk’ulkan, then I shall do so with no question.”

You waited with bated breath as your father stood from his throne and descended to stand in front of your warrior. Your heart thumped in your chest as you saw your father inch closer to him, his hand now resting on his shoulders and urging Attuma to rise.

“You have done a great deal for the name of my daughter, but the decision is hers to make.” K’uk’ulkan started, his voice carrying nothing but tender command. He turned towards you and beckoned you forward. You did so without question and swam beside your father.

“Do you accept his oath, in waal?”

There was no other answer for such a question. It was something that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your blossoming romance, the fantasy that you had always dreamed to come into fruition.

With a smile that would outshine the stars of the night, you eagerly replied.

“I shall accept your oath with open arms, Attuma. My dear warrior.”

Your people broke into joyous cheers as Attuma rose from his bow. You turned to pick the spear by the feet of your throne and presented it to him with a proud grin. He replied in kind, kissing the vibranium shaft that touched your hand as soon as he had received it. Heat traveled up your neck and into the tips of your pointed ears at the gesture, your fingers wringing together in bashful fluster.

K’uk’ulkan smiled at the exchange, but he could not help but urge you away from the warrior and back to your throne. He could not help himself—you were far too precious to be in the presence of a man who fancied you all his life.

The king turned to Attuma and regarded him with a nod and gesture of Talokan’s respect, the warrior replying in kind.

“Serve her well, Attuma.”

Before K’uk’ulkan could return to his throne, Attuma rose high and proud, brandishing his weapon only he could ever wield with such power. A show of strength, if you will, that left the people at awe at the display of his prowess.

“My king! If I may be so bold, I have something to ask of you.” He declared, his voice loud and strong. Your brows furrowed in confusion at such a statement; what else did Attuma need when he had already pledged his service to you?

You held the urge to giggle when your father turned with an amused chuckle of his own.

“What is it?”

Attuma turned towards you, the both of you locking eyes. And in that moment, he sent you an affectionate grin.

And then realization hit you.

He wasn’t going to—!

“I wish for your permission to court your daughter, the princess.” Murmurs and excited gasps spread across the hall. You see Namora grinning to herself staring at Attuma, impressed. Your cheeks burned with heat, your chest pounding at how incredibly mad Attuma was for declaring something as bold as a courting during your coronation as crown heir.

But it was something that you absolutely loved about your warrior, no matter how insane he was to declare his desire to court you in front of the entire kingdom.

Your father stiffened, his eyes steeled and ready to pounce at Attuma. He had to hold himself back—there was no reason for him to needlessly attack his finest warrior just because he expressed his desire to court you. He could not even dismiss such thought; the titles and the achievements of Attuma held far more worth than any man in Talokan.

From where it stands, and with your close relationship with the warrior, he was by far the only man worthy of your affection.

And so, with a reluctance that held every possible threat in the world, K’uk’ulkan replied.

“Prove to me your worth, Attuma, for the radiant pearl of the sea does not need an incompetent suitor to court her.”

“Father!” You hissed quietly. You felt your father’s animosity course through you in waves. You had to resist the urge to groan and sigh; he was so protective of you.

But Attuma did not seem phased as he spoke steadily.

“By your will, K’uk’ulkan.”

In the eyes of your people did you swim beside your father and held his arm reassuringly. His steely gaze finally fell as he looked at you, and you allowed yourself to swim to the level of his ears and whisper, “Please be gentle with Attuma, father. I also bear feelings for him.”

He looked at you like he was betrayed, but he was not surprised. How could you not have told him about your budding feelings for the warrior?

Then again, he knew the throes of a woman when it came to sharing their romantic feelings, so he did not blame you for keeping it a secret from him, your own father.

“How long have you known?”

“A few decades,” you smiled sheepishly, “do not be so hard on the warrior that I have chosen. He means it in good faith, and he has done nothing to cross any boundaries set by your command.”

“Are you sure?”

“I swear it upon my name and crown, father.”

Your father pondered on your words for a little while longer and resigned with a sigh. You pressed your forehead against your father’s and giggled.

“Thank you for your leniency, my king.”

You separated yourself from your father and swam forward to Attuma. He gave you a cheeky grin, one that screamed unapologetic mischief. You shook your head, amused as his antics, as you raised your hand to cup his cheek.

“My father has given his word; prove to him that you are worthy of my hand so we will be together, my dear warrior.”

He dared cup your hands that feathered along his strong jaw and leaned into your touch. You could feel your father’s piercing stare, but the both of you ignored it, too engrossed in your own little world in the watchful eyes of your nation.

“Is that an order?” He asked you, his eyes boring into yours with such intensity that would have sent you immediately to your knees.

You leaned in close until your lips met the base of his mighty headpiece, the jagged teeth of the hammerhead shark that he had slain digging firmly into the skin of his forehead. When you parted, you stared into his eyes; the eyes that held nothing but veneration to your glorious name.

And with a tender whisper to your beloved, you replied.

“A request.”

Anyone up for a Part 2? >:))

Taglist: @haideehaids @xnodamsel

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drconstellation · 4 months

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Come Back When You Can Make A Whale

This is going to contain some speculation for S3, so you know what to do! Or not do!

SITIS: What did God say? JOB: Um... I'm not sure. I didn't understand much. Things too wonderful for me. Ostriches came into it. SITIS: Ostriches? JOB: And whales. God's very proud of the whale. Went into some detail about... how great whales are. SITIS: But did They explain? JOB: [shakes head] I think the point was, if you want answers, come back when you can make a whale.

Whales, huh?

If you aren't well read, this could be quite the misdirection. It should be reasonably obvious, given who is doing the talking - Job - what he is actually referring to, then we can join a couple of dots to make some speculative leaps.

You still with me?

No? Then let us start with how do you make a whale?

By giving it another name.

Leviathan.

Chapter 41 of the Book of Job is all about the Leviathan, a great sinuous sea serpent with impenetrable scales and breath like fire. It sleeps beneath the sea until the end of days. Over time it came to be associated with any sea monster, then anything large, and what is the largest animal ever known to have lived? The whale.

The top of the matchbox is also worth a look. We have a skull and crossbones, which is classic Memento mori symbolism, fitting in with the resurrection theme of the Second Coming - but look at the way the address of the pub is spelt! Now, this not the same way it is spelt on the record single Maggie gives to Aziraphale; Goatgate is spelt as one word, not two. A little bit of searching reveals the meaning behind this fictional address that backs up and reinforces the quote on the side of the matchbox.

Strong's Concordance for 66 gives us "wild, savage, fierce." Goatgate is an interesting one, because it turns out to be a relatively modern term from the urban dictionary, and I'm just going to refer to the polite version of it here - it's another word for "mouth." So 66 Goatgate is a "fierce and savage mouth." Yes, that does sound about right - in more ways than one, once you know who it is. (If you want to look up the impolite version, go ahead - I'm sure you will still find the connotations very amusing.)

Our metaphorical Leviathan is Crowley. He gave the game away at the end of S1 during the appearance-swap.

This also means Aziraphale is his counterpart, Behemoth. Why - well, I made a bit of joke in my post here that he was playing at being a "river horse" while he wallowed in the bath of holy water during his part of the appearance-swap scene. Modern day scholars think the description of Behemoth in the Bible may be that of a hippopotamus in real life history. If that is so, I'd still be betting this is what the "dark horse" comment from Nina in S2E1 is foreshadowing.

Maybe none of this new to you if you've been hanging around the the fandom for a while. That's fine, I'm just trying to establish the scene. And the next bit we need to talk about is this one, where Job gets a lecture from God.

During this sequence, we hear lines that come from Job 38 and 39.

GOD: Job, if you have questions for me, I have questions for you. Do you know how I created the earth? Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth, Job? Were you there when all the morning stars sang together and all the Angels shouted for joy?

These lines are paraphrasing some of the beginning of Job 38.

Then we have:

GOD: Do you know the rules of the heavens? Did you set the constellations in the sky? Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you? Did you give wings to peacocks, Job, or teach the ostrich to run?

These lines are again, paraphrasing Job, half from 38 and half from 39.

So then, we need to ask, why highlight these lines in particular?

Job 38 is mainly about setting the boundaries of the universe around us. The Earth might seem impossibly huge to a human, but it started with a single stone at its foundation. Earth and the other planets obey certain laws as they move around the Sun. The patterns of the stars in the sky take so long to change that it seems like they are set and inconstant. Even the chaotic form of lightning respects its Creator and returns to its point of origin.

From the last part of Chapter 38 to the end of 39 God challenges Job with a list of animals. The theme here is about freedom and wildness. Whether it is a noble lion, a loathsome crow, a nimble mountain goat, the head-strong wild ox or the willing war horse, they all flourish upon the Earth under the sight of the Almighty. Even the mightiest and most fierce beasts of all, Behemoth and Leviathan, have a place, although only God has the means to control those two.

None of this needs a human to be involved. We are so often the center of our own universe, and try so hard to control every aspect of the world around us that we lose sight of the bigger picture. Shit happens. Some things are out of our control. That doesn't mean its your fault and you're wicked and damned to go to Hell because of it. And that was the point God was trying to make to Job. The world is a far bigger, wilder and chaotic than you can imagine, but its also incredibly beautiful, and it runs itself within the rules and limits that seem to be set by invisible forces you can't see.

So back to the script from the show.

The first set of questions from God could apply to both of the duo. They were both around when Earth was created and were more than likely there when the "morning stars" (the highest angels, such as Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael and angel!Beelzebub) sang together.

The second set of questions are the ones that seem to have got the most attention so far, with ops cross-matching them to things Crowley does in S2.

Do you know the rules of the heavens?

Did you set the constellations in the sky?

Can you send lightning bolts and get them to report back to you?

Did you give wings to peacocks, Job...

(I make a suggestion this has something to do with Michael, but also see comments below)

...or teach the ostrich to run?

The first three of those questions are fairly straight forward, and I doubt many would dispute what they are referring to. But the reference to the peacock and the ostrich are more subtle and curious, and I would like to take a moment to look at the actual verse - because it is only one verse that is providing both questions - that is being paraphrased here.

Job 39:13 Gavest thou the goodly wings unto the peacocks? or wings and feathers unto the ostrich?

Did you realize that the King James Version of the Bible is the only one that mentions peacocks in this particular verse? All the other versions mentions the first sentence of that verse in relation to the wings of ostriches: "The wings of the ostrich wave proudly." The ostrich is considered a cruel and witless bird in the Bible, pleased with the way it looks, and seemingly careless about its young.

Why does that sound familiar...

Shax thinks this ostrich feather-clad angel in disguise isn't too smart either.

So using the peacock line is a curious choice in the script. Other than the "eyes" in the tail of the peacock having a connection to Michael's many watchful eyes on the world, it's still not clear how Crowley helped them upwards. Unless both lines are supposed to refer to Gabriel, and how the vain peacock was helped to both fly and run to a distant location in the stars.

Edit: Since I first wrote this, @beebopboom pointed me to some more peacock lore, and this helped me delve a bit deeper into them. Peacocks were associated with wealth and royalty, but they were also associated with immortality in early Christian beliefs. There was a belief that the flesh of the peacock did not decay after its death. The bright colours in its tail came from its eating venomous snakes, which reminded people of Christ becoming sin for humanity's sake (think of Crowley downing the laudanum to save Elspeth from Hell in the crypt in 1827, its a similar action.) The "eyes" on the males tail also represented the all-seeing eye of God. So we have a connection with both royalty and resurrection here.

(Oh - just as an interesting connection here - a number of the newer versions of the Bible not only don't mention the peacock in this verse, they compare the ostrich to the stork! The meaning is meant to be that the stork cares more for their young than the ostrich, but if you read the words at face value, you could take a double meaning away...)

Let us return to questions, answers, and whales.

Questions. Always questions. It's like the proverbial toddler who's always asking a never-ending string of "but, why?" for funsies and you just want them to shut up for a moment and think about the last thing you said first. They, too, are a bit like Job. They are the center of their own universe at that age, having not had much experience of the world. They have no grasp of how far it extends beyond them, and how little even we as adults know.

If at this point you're going "oh, no, no, no, no, op, please don't tell me the point of this meta is it's all ineffable," relax. I'm not.

The point was to set you up for some nice, juicy, awesomely sweet S3 speculation.

Because I believe Crowley will finally get to ask his questions of God.

(oh lordy, I made the mistake of taking a break to have a shower before trying to finish this off, because I was having trouble seeing how to finish this in a tidy way, and that caused me to have "shower thoughts" and now the nice sweet simple speculation has turned into a slightly bat-shit crazy kind-of one, although still on the same track as what I was originally thinking. Here goes...)

We have this three card spread from waaay back at the beginning of S1. We all think its something to do with the three babies.

What if its not?

Because we need something like this to happen again - Aziraphale and Crowley either side of a third protagonist. What if it's the King of Kings, Love personified, Jesus, in the middle? (Or Adam again, I wouldn't discount that option either...)

If you would look at the GIF and the screenshot together again and go, well that makes, sense, white for the angel on the right, and green for the demon on the left, I would jump up and shout at you - NO!

Look at the cards again! In the Tarot, that's the Ace of Swords on the right - it belongs to Aziraphale. It's a very powerful card, about new beginnings and change.* Lets call the one of the left Knight of Wands, which also represents the element of Fire. Knights are all about movement and journeys. Who owns the Bentley? And look what Gabriel has instinctively done with his hands - he has held his screen-left hand out to Aziraphale, the Sword, the angel who wears green, and his right hand out to Crowley, the Knight of Fire. The yin and yang qualities are actually swapped. That was what I was trying to tell you in this post. They aren't as obvious as they seem at first glance.

And love is the answer, it turns out. Did you see my comment the other day on another post? In Strong's Concordance 25 = to love.

Anyway, we should get a third parallel scene somewhat like this, and like when Aziraphale and Crowley took Adam out of time to talk to him in S1.

Only this time the three of them (with who ever is in the middle) should be having a talk with God about what is or isn't supposed to happen.

JOB: I think the point was, if you want answers, come back when you can make a whale.

Crowley could be a literal serpent (though I would be very surprised if he did manifest that way) but it should be a metaphorical Leviathan that stands before the Almighty to ask his questions and get his answers. And it will be that he has earned the right to be there, because he finally understands the lessons of Job.

@makewayforbigcrossducks I hope this answers one of your questions

*The Ace of Swords speaks of new beginnings, but it is a two-edged sword that can cut both ways. It is strength in adversity, victory out of struggle, good out of evil, a change in the old order on the way.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #job minisode #book of job #leviathan #behemoth #i only ever asked questions #come back when you can make a whale #gabriel #shax #did you give wings to peacocks?#teach the ostrich to run #king of kings #king of hearts #yin to his yang

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rathayibacter · 3 months

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Draconic Reproduction

The first dragons were born from man's fear of the unknown: a dragon would be born slumbering in the heart of a terrible storm whenever it tore apart a village, or would come crashing from the mountaintop when a volcano erupted. As science and magic have progressed, the unknown has been beaten back, and these forms of spontaneous generation have become rarer. As a result, dragons have found new ways to reproduce.

Some dragons practice Budding, where they grow multiple heads from the same shoulders. These heads are new consciousnesses just as brilliant as the original's, and upon being severed will become great winding serpents. Oftentimes, a dragon with more than five or so heads will begin actively seeking out foes to decapitate them, as the bickering and politicking between heads becomes too much to bear.

Dragonblood, when it falls to earth, mixes with the dirt and stone to form kobolds. A single splatter of blood might just make one or two, but a ferocious battle can sometimes give rise to a whole community of kobolds, who very quickly set about getting themselves into trouble. Kobolds don't tend to live longer than a few years, but in the rare case when one manages to molt a hundred or so times they'll become a whole new dragon.

Some dragons collect great glittering hoards of gold, which they use to transmit the Glimmering Curse. Dragonslayers and thieves alike find themselves tempted by such impossible riches, and will attempt to flee with whatever they can carry. The obsession grows roots in their soul, leading them to greater and greater acts of avarice, until eventually they cut the last ties holding them to humanity and instantly erupt with wing and claw and fang.

A rare few dragons still maintain the ancient art of Dreamsong, most closely related to the births of the primordial dragons. With Dreamsong, the dragon appears in a mortal's dreams in a strange and wonderful form, and spends many tender hours with them there. The mortal wakes up remembering little but a warm feeling, but weeks later will stumble upon an egg, half-buried in the earth, from which will hatch a beautiful child with golden slitted eyes.

#Rath's guides to magic #ttrpg #dont tag this with dnd play a better game instead #also hey! its been a while since ive done one of these #if youre new here check the guides tag theres some fun stuff there

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wanderingsorcerer · 10 months

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The 72 Demons Of The Ars Goetia

This will be multi parts and in each one we will be going over each branch of them "whoop whoop" let's get cracking

Starting off the 72 demons of the ars goetia are the amalgamation of the Occult Writings from the 15th century. Compiled into one text in the 17th that is where we get what is now known as the Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis or simply The Lesser Key Of Solomon. Due to many translations spelling changes depending on region and personal preference for the author.

Let's start the Journey with the KINGs Of Hell

Baal (Bael): is the first king of hell with estates in the east and commander of 66 legions. This King is distinguished by his three heads, One of Toad , One Of Man, and One Of Cat. He teaches the art of invisibility and the power to Garner The Favor of Others. He also rules over Love and Science.

His Symbol

As with most Spirits in the Goetia they prefer people who are clever and intelligent. Someone who is willing to put in the work instead of relying entirely on the power of the deity

Paimon(Paymon): one of the kings of hell with estates in the NorthWest he is the ruler of 200 legions of demons. Paimon is depicted as a man with an effeminate face, wearing a precious Crown, and riding a Dromedary. He is said to roar upon arrival and speak in a loud voice until asked a question from the caster. Paimon teaches all arts, philosophies, and sciences, and secret things; he can reveal all mysteries of the Earth, wind, and water, what the mind is, and where it is, and everything the conjurer wants to know.

His Symbol

To summon him it is common practice to have a Sacrifice prepared, usually one of personal significance to the caster.

Beleth: one of the Truly Mighty and terrible kings of hell he is the ruler of 85 legions of demons. Beleth is depicted riding a war house and is said to have Loud music blaring as he arrives. He is said to look terrifying upon arrival and will attempt to frighten the caster to see if they are brave.

His symbol

When summoning him it would be best to hold a silver ring on your left hand middle finger to your face, as to show him his respect due to his rank in the infernal realm.

Purson: One of the Great Kings of Hell, being served and obeyed by twenty-two legions of demons. Purson is depicted as a man with the face of a Lion, carrying a Viper in his hand, and riding a bear. He is commonly associated with the AntiChrist. His powers include knowing all hidden things, discovering treasures and divination (telling all things from past, present and future). He can take on a human or astral form.

His Symbol

He represents the sun and the moon and symbolism from both is best when beginning his summoning. I.E Silver and Gold Jewelry and coloring

Asmodeus(Asmoday): One of my personal favorites, he's the one I have the strongest relationship with out of all of the demons in the Ars Goetia. Labeled as The Thirty-second Spirit He is a Great King, Strong, and Powerful. He appeareth with Three Heads, whereof the first is like a Bull, the second like a Man, and the third like a Ram; he hath also the tail of a Serpent, and from his mouth issue Flames of Fire. His Feet are webbed like those of a Goose. He sitteth upon an Infernal Dragon, and beareth in his hand a Lance with a Banner. He is first and choicest under the Power of AMAYMON, he goeth before all other. He teaches the Arts of Arithmetic, Astronomy, Geometry, and all handicrafts.

When summoning him be respectful he has a soft spot for academics and is a true wonder of a friend to have on your spiritual journey, just don't wear hats around him.

Vine: is an Earl and also a King of Hell, commanding 36 legions of demons. This demon is portrayed as a Lion holding a snake in his hand and riding a black horse. He can tell present, past, and future, discover witches and hidden things, create storms and make the water rough by means of them, and also bring down walls and build towers.

His Symbol

Acts as an elemental guide unto those who may seek to attack you. Vine is also a divinatory spirit who will also brings initiatory knowledge to Wizards, Witches and hidden aspects. Summon him if you wish to learn more about the Occult.

Balam:is a great and powerful king of Hell who commands over 40 legions of demons. Balam is depicted as being three-headed. One head is the head of a bull, the second of a man, and the third of a ram. He has flaming eyes and the tail of a serpent. He carries a hawk on his fist and rides a strong bear. At other times, he is represented as a naked man riding a bear. He gives perfect answers on things past, present, and to come, and can also make men invisible and witty.

His Symbol

From the Daemonolatry Goetia by S. Connolly

“Invoke Balam to get over social awkwardness or to find the inner reasons for shyness or discomfort. Leave a piece of gold in offering to Balam (And his sigil) on the altar to keep magickal works secret until they manifest the desired results.”

Zagan: A Great King and President of Hell, commanding over 33 legions of demons. Zagan is depicted as a griffin-winged bull that turns into a man after a while. He makes men witty; he can also turn wine into water, water into wine, and blood into wine as well as blood into oil, oil into blood, and a fool into a wise man. Other of his powers is that of turning metals into coins that are made with that metal (i.e., gold into a gold coin, copper into a copper coin, etc.).

His Symbol

Turns things into their opposites. Invoke to help curb addictions and bad habits or make delusional people (or dabblers) to see the truth. Zagam rites are a Daemonolatry Keeper ritual

Belial:He is a King of Hell with 80 legions of demons and 50 legions of spirits under his command. He was created as the first, after Lucifer. He has the power to distribute senatorships and gives excellent familiars. He takes the form of Two Beautiful Angels sitting in a Chariot of Fire.

His Symbol

He must be presented with offerings, sacrifices, and gifts, or else he will not give true answers to demands.

Always when working with these entities show them great respect and take into considerations that the majority of these are gods from other cultures that have had there meanings shifted over the years to be perceived as demonic. Treat them with kindness and respect and for the most part they will treat you the same. Do your research and learn. Learn more everyday and don't forget to have fun. The occult is a wonderful and beautiful thing and I hope to take you on more journeys with me.

We will continue this next time when we go over the Dukes of Hell.

Thank you for being here with me and having tea with me on the other side of the Great divide :)

☕ Like My Blog? Then consider buying me a Ko-Fi ☕

#goetia #ars goetia #demonology #demons #witch #witchcraft #witches #witchblr #magus #magi #grand magus #solomon #solomonic #lesser key of solomon #key of solomon #occult #occultist #occultism #WanderingSorcerer

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shesjustanothergeek · 2 months

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The Blood of Eden

|Lucifer!Aemond Targaryen x Eve!Reader|

Short Story

Masterlist of Works

Summary: Life in Eden was perfect. You lived in harmony with your husband, Adam, and all other creatures. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates, forever protected by the angels and God's love. Until one day, when you stood at the roots of the Tree of Knowledge, a serpent appeared before you. Its green body blended into the grass beneath your feet, and its amber eyes locked onto yours as it spoke words that would lead you astray and down a path of sin.

Author's Note: Let's start with this idea being unoriginal. There have been a million different retellings of the fall of Adam and Eve in fanfiction. However, I did put a lot of original thoughts into it and gave it a spin of my own. I'm not religious at all, though I was raised Methodist in a very rural and religious state. I really don't care if anyone is offended by what I wrote because what I wrote is not really about God but more so about the expectations of women, abandonment of those who claim to love you, and blind faith. It's not only applicable to religion but to everyday life with the government and other people in positions of authority in your life. With all that being said, just enjoy this for what it is... raunchy smut.

Warnings: sexism, misogyny, noncon bordering onto rape, sacrilege, religious guilt, manipulation, breeding kink (kinda?), Aemond feasts like it's the last supper, it's literally a fanfic retelling of Adam and Eve.

Word Count: 9.6k

Also, I recommend you listen to the song The Devil Is Human by Aurora or The Fruits by Paris Paloma. Both are applicable.

In the beginning, God created heaven and the Earth. The Earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep. The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters, and God said, "Let there be light," and there was light. God saw the light as good and divided the light from the darkness.

And he was there. There, beside the Lord with the rest of his brothers and sisters, he watched his God create life as he knew it.

They called him another name then and spoke of him differently, filling him with such fury and vengeance in memory. He was no longer Aemond, the morning star, God's favorite angel in his host. He was the vilest of beings, cast down into the depths of Hell with all others who followed him in punishment for his defiance against his Lord.

They said Lucifer was vain. That Satan fell from the heavens due to his great pride in his perfection, but that was untrue. There was more to the tale than just the folly of pride, than just the wickedness that so poisoned his heart against God.

Aemond believed in knowledge and free will. He disagreed with God's authoritarian control of the creatures he architected. God's creations had no control over their lives, set mindlessly on his chosen path. He kept hidden the knowledge of the Earth and psyche and all it had to give. Aemond believed he had no right to do so, for a life in blind ignorance was none at all.

He first poisoned the creature they called Adam with the emotion of loneliness despite the lush greenery and breathing life surrounding him. Then, he gathered all his fellow angels who shared his belief to rebel against their Lord. God knew that Aemond stirred the mind of his creation, Adam, and cut out his eye as he cast him and all who agreed with the now Satan below the Earth as punishment. Aemond was angered and scorned at the benevolent creator's decision.

From that moment on, he swore he would forever spurn God, devoting his existence to the opposite of his.

As a consequence of Aemond's actions and the intoxication of Adam's mind with thoughts of loneliness, God created another being. A companion to the man, derived from his rib, called woman, and her name was Eve.

Eve was beautiful. She was more beautiful than Aemond before his eye was stolen, and God doted on her with an intensity Aemond felt was purposeful. He grew mad with envy at the realization. What kind of Father would do such a thing to his son? How dare he? A benign God created a being more beautiful than the one cast out for it.

Satan was furious. He was enraged at God and the woman Eve. He spent all his days attempting to corrupt the innocent woman in their perfect Garden of Eden as retaliation.

It was a bothersome task. Eve was quite loyal to her God and her husband, Adam, for they were connected, and God's love was too strong to penetrate. Until one day, when Satan spied on the Lord and his children, hidden as a serpent within the lush green grass, and God told them there was one rule, the only sin they could commit.

The Tree of Knowledge. Its Fruit was golden, juicy, and ripe, begging the beings to sink their teeth into its soft flesh, but they could not, for their Lord forbade it.

Satan knew then that he had found a weakness within the perfect creatures and set out to exploit their flaw.

Life within Eden was joyful. You wanted for nothing and asked for nothing because God provided. You lived in harmony with your husband and all other living creatures. The lions resided in peace with the gazelles, the crocodiles on the shores with the zebras, and the wolves with the sheep. Everything worked per God's will. Worry was not a thought within your mind. Nothing negative ever got past the guardian cherubs at the gates of Eden, forever protected by the angels and your Lord's love.

God instructed you and Adam a few commands to follow within the Garden. One, you must serve your husband, for you are an extension of him, and second, you must never eat from the Tree of Knowledge. They were simple guidelines to follow.

You catered to your husband's every wish, ensuring he desired naught as you did. When Adam's mouth dried, you quenched his thirst from the babbling brooks. When his stomach rumbled with hunger, you satisfied him with the food from the Earth. It was what you desired, what gave you fulfillment and great happiness to serve your husband, as was God's will.

You were content in the Garden of Eden, yet one thought hung within your mind. It was only a whisper at first, the slight rustle of the breeze commanding one thing, and you busied yourself within the Lord's expectations in response. But it grew stronger until you could no longer ignore it and found yourself staring at the hanging aureate Fruit at the foot of the Tree.

You confided in Adam as to your troubles, but he dismissed you.

"Do not worry your little head about such things, dear Eve. God has a plan for us all and will not lead you into temptation."

You trusted him, just as you trusted the Father, but you soon forgot your once limitless bliss. More often than not, you would wake at the roots of the forbidden Tree with no recollection of how you got there, suddenly awoken, as if from a trance to the tale end of a deep timbre at the shell of your ear, demanding that you take one bite.

You prayed. You prayed, and you prayed, and you prayed until God finally deigned his presence to you, answering your pleas. In him, you confided your doubts of the memory lapses that brought you such agony until tears flowed from your eyes.

"Do you not have trust in me that I will protect you from your sins?"

"No, Father!" you exclaimed, quickly resending the words in error. "Yes, Father, of course I trust you."

"Then you must worry naught, sweet Eve, for you are a creation of me and my will. You must have trust in your devotion and obey my commands no matter the temptation."

You merely nodded at his words, an uneasy feeling churning in the pit of your stomach.

It was your fault, you soon realized, for not praying enough, for spending too much time caring for your own needs and not God's and Adam's. So, without hesitation, you threw yourself into the Lord's commands. You put your faith in him more than before and focused your time on God when not spent with your husband.

But it did not work.

You no longer felt the same joy when serving Adam and the Father; the fulfillment was replaced with bitterness and resentment for those you catered to for not helping you in your time of need. Thoughts of what would happen should you eat the Forbidden Fruit rattled in your head, infecting you with doubts as to what God's motives were in keeping you from it.

One day, when the sun was shining as it always did, warming your skin and filling the air with something sweet and floral, a serpent, greener and brightly scaled than you had ever seen, came slithering down the brown bark of the Tree of Knowledge.

You grinned at the creature, delighted to have the company of one of God's creations as you grasped it, allowing it to slide across your arms and legs until it wrapped around your torso, head resting between the mounds of flesh on your chest. Its pink, forked tongue tickled the sensitive skin there, causing giggles as it ventured further up until its emerald body wound around your neck and shoulders, smooth scales caressing the skin.

"Did God say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?" asked the serpent, and you were startled.

No animal had ever spoken to you before, and it sent a jolt of surprise through your limbs at something so foreign and unusual within your serene garden.

"We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, we must not eat fruit from the one that is in the middle of it, and we must not touch it, or we will die," you answered thoughtfully, a smile on your face as the snake's tongue tickled the shell of your ear.

You attempted to pull it away, slightly uncomfortable but still joyful with how close it was to your face, but the animal only swirled around your countenance and into your hair and nestled on the opposite side.

"You will not certainly die," the serpent said to you, voice sure. "For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like him, knowing good and evil."

Gazing at the Fruit, then back to the slit, amber eyes of the snake, you faltered. Undoubtedly, the Lord would never bar you from something like this. He loved you. You and Adam were his creations. He would never keep you from something good for you. Why would God lie if the serpent's words were valid?

"There is much wonder ahead of you, little Eve. All you must do is only take one bite."

His words were convincing, poisoning your already tainted mind into disobeying God's commands. Still, you shook your head, trying to pry the snake off, but it only slithered down your body, nestling between the flesh of your legs, small head resting on the thatch of dark hair as it peered up at you.

"No, snake," you declared with defiance, brows furrowed and plump lips pouted. "He said we would die. Why would God lie to us? He loves us!"

Aemond thought you looked so beautiful then, even more beautiful than himself with the ethereal glow that radiated from your form, but he swiftly pushed the notion aside.

"Because, if you eat the Fruit in which he commanded you not to, your eyes will be opened for what the world is. You'll understand right from wrong. You will be like him," the snake whispered, his forked tongue flicking with every sentence. "If God truly loved you, he wouldn't keep all this knowledge to himself."

Aemond could see the defiance slowly leave your expression, considering what he declared the truth. "He'll never know, little lamb. I shall never tell him. You have my word." He knew you needed one more push, the correct phrases to convince you to commit the only sin you could. "You deserve to understand. You deserve to be free from the self-sacrificing chains that bind you."

Aemond moved his scaly body from yours, sliding within the knee-high grass and into the Tree. He bit into the flesh of the Fruit as he turned to your uncertain form. He swallowed the chunk into his throat, the juice sliding down his fangs as his amber eyes stared into your wide ones.

Trepidation began to leave your mind, taking a tentative step forward as you saw that the serpent did not perish. The snake took another bite, wrapping its veridian tail around a winding branch, holding the piece out, wordlessly telling you to have a taste. You inhaled a shaky breath, an emotion you had never experienced before warming your gut and the place betwixt your thighs as you leaned, taking the golden fruit from it with your teeth.

The sweet flavor washed over your tongue, some juice dribbling past your lips and sliding down your chin as your eyes shut. You felt your mind become free, a moan breaking from the confines of your chest. Opening your eyes, the Fruit slid down your throat and settled into your stomach as you gazed at the world around you.

Suddenly, you understood everything.

Why water fell from the sky, why the grass grew, why the day always followed the night, why God told you never to eat the Fruit. You did not become his omnipotent equal as the serpent claimed. You became knowledgeable. You could comprehend the vast questions of the universe that the only answer you were told was God. You now had the free will to choose what you thought and what you did. You could decide who and what you worshiped.

God could no longer control you, so he forbade you from eating the Fruits on the Tree of Knowledge.

The snake was no longer in its place; instead stood a man with features not of this world. He adorned a crown of silver longer than your own, a pale stomach chiseled and defined with muscles and scars, a light dusting of hair trailing down to where his manhood was covered with weaved fig leaves. A long, pink scar sliced the left side of his face, the socket in which his eye should be a bright blue sapphire gem complimenting the near obsidian of the other.

Abruptly, you realized you were naked in front of an unknown man, quickly covering your breasts with your arms as he only observed.

"Who-" you stuttered, warmth filling your cheeks, "who are you?"

The man smirked, the grin pulling at his cheeks in a malicious, knowing manner that sent chills down your spine. "He never told you, did he?" the man questioned with the proud quirk of his brow, stepping closer to your trembling form. "I am called many names, sweet lamb. Satan, Lucifer, Devil, the Morning Star, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Iblis, the Father of Lies, and much more, but you," he answered, his now single tongue licking his white teeth, "may call me Aemond."

Your lungs shuttered, legs threatening to give out as he stood nearly a hair's breadth away. You extended an arm out, preventing him from coming closer, palm touching the smooth planes of his abdomen as you cowered under his dark gaze.

"Please, do not come any closer. I am ashamed," you implored, voice quivering as tears collected at the brim of your lashes.

"What for, little lamb? Are you now feeling the shame of having disobeyed your God, now knowing he will never love you again?" You tasted the briny water on your tongue before you felt them, whimpering and flinching as Aemond brought his thumb to your cheek, stroking the tears that clumped your lashes. "I shall love you, Eve, more than your God ever could."

A scream scratched your throat as Satan's hands grabbed your waist, fingers digging into the soft skin until you were sure they would burrow through, your bare breasts touching his sculpted chest.

"You-you tricked me!" you sobbed, head moving far away from him as he licked a stripe of saltwater on your temple, groaning at the erotic taste.

"Tricked you?" he guffawed, snatching your hair. "No, sweet lamb, I saved you."

"No! No! You said I would be as God! You lied to me!" Words poured from your lips like the tears from your eyes, choking you with their excess wetness. How could you have been so foolish as to believe a talking snake? The Lord was above all and only cared for you. He provided all that you needed, yet you still gave into temptation.

"Is it power that you desire, my ignorant lamb?" he questioned, a smirk pulling at his thin, pink lips. "Do not fret, for I shall give you all that you desire and more."

Aemond's mouth slotted with yours, spearing his tongue into the wetness and exploring the soft flesh your lips kept hidden. You struggled against him in vain, nails clawing at his chest and face until they left red welts on his porcelain skin. He merely chuckled against you, grinning into the kiss as his knee made it home between your legs. You vehemently shook your skull, attempting to break from his vice-like grip on your hair.

You now understood where this was going as Aemond released you with a sickening pop only when he decided you had enough.

"Stop. I do not want this," you protested, pulling your face away from his against the force of his hand.

"But, dear Eve, you are positively wet down there. It would be a sin to leave it untouched." You could sense Aemond's grin against your skin, his lips trailing down your jaw and onto the sensitive skin of your neck, inhaling the aromatic scent of your flesh.

It had been millennia since he last had the taste of sex. He spent all that time either within the solitude of his own making or that of his fellow fallen angels. He knew that those times would not be as fulfilling as now, and a part of Aemond, deep within himself, understood that he would never wish to live without it again.

He left damp patches in his wake, unceasing in his movements until he reached the tender globe of your breast, wrapping his lips around the pert nipple and suckling like a child. The jolt of pleasure that wracked through your body was paralyzing, causing you to momentarily drop your defenses as he forced you into the tall grass below. Aemond's body weight trapped you under him, feeling every ridge and curve of his body on your own. His manhood poked at your thigh, thumping in time to the beat of your erratic heart.

"Please, have mercy on me," you cried into the heavens, hearing nothing but Satan's heavy breathing on your bosom as he moved to the other, fingers snaking down to toy at the place between your legs. "Do not touch me there! That is a place for my husband only!"

Aemond grunted, the sound vibrating your chest as he unlatched with a half-lidded expression. "And who told you that, little lamb? Your God? The same God who kept you from all the world has to offer?"

You couldn't deny his words, gazing away from the beast before you. Aemond's arms wound themselves around your legs, keeping you at his mercy as he brought your womanhood onto his watering mouth. You shuddered uncontrollably with every lick he placed onto your throbbing core, unable to silence the high-pitched mewls that escaped your throat at the actions.

His tongue was so warm and soft, involuntarily making your muscles relax in his embrace as he lapped at your folds, moldable lips curling around the bud at the top to lav it in particular attention. It felt so good you could not help but buck your hips into him, curling your digits into his hair and back arching as the wet muscle slid into your entrance. Aemond's tongue caressed your insides with the tenderness of a butterfly's kiss, stroking along a rough patch that had you seeing the stars above.

You were unsure of what came over you. The only thought in your mind and nerves being more, more, more as your movements became greedy. You ground your womanhood onto his face and shoved his nose further into you, the bridge of it providing delicious friction onto your bud. You did not care if he could breathe. It felt like a beast had possessed you, puppeteering your movements with only one goal.

Release.

You grew impervious if God or Adam heard your cries of pleasure, knowing only of the Devil betwixt your thighs that now suckled your bud as if it were your breast, causing your heels to dig into the soft soil. At this moment, you did not regret taking a bite from the Forbidden Fruit. It brought you the knowledge of ecstasy you had no idea existed. If all sins brought you the promise of this pleasure, then you would gladly and unthinkingly commit them.

A fist formed within your stomach, tensing your gut as Aemond opened his jaw wider to incorporate all of your meat into his mouth, swallowing your juices as he did to the Fruit.

He knew he had you hooked, his cock thudding painfully with arousal as he rutted in the dirt. This was just as gratifying for him as it was for you. Not only did he have the satisfaction of corrupting God's favorite in the Garden of his creation, but he also had her begging and wanton within the palm of his hand, ripe for the taking. Aemond understood there was only one last thing he must do before he could finally destroy God's most precious creation.

He knew you were close. You only needed one more push, as you did before, to finally fall off the edge so you could become his in sin. He doubled his efforts, slurping obscenely at your puffy cunt until it nearly drowned out your moans.

You couldn't breathe, your breath coming out in pants as your legs clamped down on Aemond's perfect silver head, shrieking into the skies as you felt your first peak crash into you. Wave after wave hit your body as never before, tears leaking onto your temples as your back arched in ecstasy. It felt like honey had been poured into your veins, leaking onto Aemond's face as you spasmed around him.

His thumbs delicately stroked the skin of your thighs as you became lax against him, body trembling. A smirk wound its way onto his lips as he let you go, licking your release from his lips as he eyed your drooling cunt. It was simply begging to be filled, the hole weeping for him to enter as he situated his legs under yours, settling on his haunches and tearing the fig leaves from his groin.

You were too blissed out to comprehend the happenings around you, head lulled to the side and eyes shut as he parted your glistening folds with his thumbs. Finally, you looked down at Aemond's ruddy cockhead kissing your entrance. Long-forgotten fear suddenly filled your chest, replacing the pleasure you had found before.

You did not want him to take you. While you had gone against your husband and God with his mouth on your flesh, you did not desire for your virtue to be stolen by him. It was still Adam's right to do so, and you quickly squirmed beneath him, attempting to slide your back along the flattened grass. Aemond grunted in admonishment, pulling your hips back to his own as he locked them around his waist.

"You run from me still," he stated more than asked with a curious tilt of his head. If you had not known better, you would've sensed the slight hurt laced under the bass of his voice. "There is nowhere for you to go, sweet Eve. Your God will not possibly love you after what you have committed here."

Tears, not from pleasure, welled in your eyes as you stared up at him. His face was impassive, concentrating on lining his cock with your virginal hole. When Aemond finally breached the tight entrance, your cries were heard in the heavens, causing the unseen eyes of God to search for you.

It hurt, impossibly so, and the pain did not stay within the assaulted area, traveling through your walls and down to the tips of your toes. You sobbed uncontrollably, vision blurred from agony and tears as he tore through you to the hilt.

"Oh, God, please," you blubbered, unable to withhold your sobs of torment any longer. "Please, have mercy, I beg of you."

"Does it hurt?" Aemond asked saccharine, disregarding your pain with a mock tenderness in his tone. You nodded, weakly pushing at his pelvis as another stretch of pain speared you. "Do not worry. It shall only last for a moment. It will be nothing compared to the hundreds I have spent locked away within the depths of Hell, cast out as no longer one of God's favorites."

You whimpered, tears leaking from your eyes and muddying the ground below. You felt a dampness between your legs, different from the previous sensation, and trained your gaze onto Aemond's manhood. Blood covered his shaft and porcelain thighs, smearing the viscous liquid across his pelvis and staining the light dusting of hair there red.

Aemond wanted this to be painful for you-wanted you to feel every ounce of heart-wrenching agony he felt when his Father cast him out of the heavens. It was the closest he could get to hurting the one he desired.

"Please, stop," you choked, attempting in vain to free yourself once more. "It's too much. I-I cannot take it." You felt your head become full, a disorientating wave rolling through your mind as your vision darkened.

Aemond did not let you stay in that unfeeling state for long, moving his digits to rub circles over your swollen bud and sparking your body back to life with a drawn-out whine. He could not have you unconscious for this. He wanted you to feel everything-every shiver that ran up your spine, every touch of his skin on yours, every begrudging clench of your suffocating walls around his girth as he rutted into you.

Soon, that familiar tingle within your stomach began to grow, causing a wet clicking sound to emanate from your womanhood and a creamy, white ring to form around the base of his cock. The shame mixed with slowly rising high fogged your brain, unable to focus on anything other than the moist slap, slap, slap of Aemond's hips against yours.

You could no longer stand the sight of his sculpted body above yours, sun rays shining behind his silver hair in a juxtaposing halo as you turned your vision to the swaying blades of grass beside you. He cooed tenderly at your disgrace, bow lips forming a mock pout and grabbing your jaw to return your misty eyes to his.

"So pretty. Prettier than me," Aemond murmured to himself rather than you, cheeks squished underneath the pressure of his digits. "God did well with you, I am loathed to confess."

You struggled to remove your face from his grip, his fingers digging in meanly in response to your resistance as pleasure mounted with every kiss of his head to your sweet spot. Hiccuping in time with his thrusts, you sobbed, eyes rolling into their sockets as Aemond continued to swirl your abused nub until more wetness was released from inside.

"Poor thing," he purred, an uneasy grin wrinkling the blushed scar on his face. "Sweet little lamb, there is no use resisting the evils of this world. Give in to me once more, and you shall be free from all that ails you. Free from a God who does not love you... not like I can."

You tried to deny his words, refuting his claims internally with a shake of your head. God's love was unyielding; it was more bountiful than the fruits and vegetables in the Garden of Eden. Satan could not possibly love you more than him-accept you more than your creator did. He was a liar. Aemond was a snake. He deceived you once before, and he was doing it again.

Only God could love you unconditionally for who you were, sins and all. You trusted that he would see your innocence in all this and allow you a chance of forgiveness. He would absolve you of your transgressions here today, for he was a benevolent being who understood you were the victim of Satan's trickery.

That was the only fact in which consoled you enough for your walls to finally release, gushing your second peak all over Aemond's glistening, scarlet cock. It enveloped you in rapture, causing you to shriek and uncontrollably quiver as it ran through your bones like the stampede of wild horses that frolicked in the Garden.

Aemond sang your praises from above, reminding you of the hymns the angels recited as his movements became rougher, more frantic as if to chase something. It prolonged your high just that much longer, and you were powerless to hold still with the animalistic positioning of his hips, both fists burrowing into your waist as his strength rubbed your back raw on the flattened foliage.

Aemond came with a shuddering growl, thrusting into you to extend his peak to the fullest. "Yes, take it. Fucking take my seed and give me my army like the good little lamb you are."

Your limbs twitched as the aftershocks of your release wore through you, his words lost on your ears. Mind numb and form pliant his movements slowed, noiseless groans rumbling the hollow of Aemond's chest. He had not felt this fulfilled since the day he was constructed, observing the pearly liquid leak from your overfilled cunt as he parted your folds with his thumbs.

You indeed were a sight to behold, and although he abhorred the notion, he believed you were God's most extraordinary conception, above even that of himself. His pride would never allow him to admit such a thing aloud, and he was content with the idea that no one but himself would ever know of it.

Aemond pulled out of your abused heat with a squelch and a quiet whimper from you, observing his seed as it ran to the ground below. He had planted in more ways than one and was content with the thought as he slipped into the shadows of his serpentine form. Still there as before, always watching yet unseen with a grin crinkling the corners of his vision.

His exit went unnoticed by you, too blissed to realize he had abandoned you despite your fragile state. Your chest heaved as you regained your breath, wiping away the sweat at the back of your brow as you slowly return your gaze to between your legs, finally understanding that Aemond was no longer within your presence. It caused a sinking feeling at the pit of your stomach, a frown adorning your once glowing features as you looked to the uninhabited Garden, confusion furrowing your brow.

Why had Aemond abandoned you? Had you done something wrong?

You could not help the feeling of loneliness that crept up your body, caging you within its dark claws. Releasing a shuddering breath, you sniffled, steeling your will as you attempted to stand, seeking the physical and spiritual comfort that only Adam and God could provide. A sharp, burning sensation radiated from your womanhood and caused you to crumble to your knees. You did not withhold your tears as they stung your eyes, wincing in great pain as you tried to stand once more, only to fail.

The sound of the softly crunching grass perked your ears, revealing that you were soon not alone. Hastily, you hid behind a tree, its tall trunk obscuring your naked body from the visitor.

"Where are you?" the voice of God called out, searching for his beloved creation. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mouth becoming dry as anxiety cinched your heart.

The air no longer held its same warmth, filling you with unease.

"Here, my Lord," you answered shakily, voice softer than the breeze that swept through your locks as you poked your head from behind the tree.

"Why are you hiding?" he asked kindly, and with no hint that he knew what you had done, the smell of incense wafting into your nose.

"I heard you in the Garden, and I was afraid because I was naked," you responded demurely, eye focused on the ground below, "so I hid."

God's silence scared you enough to bring your tearful gaze to his, body shrinking into itself as he observed you. "Who told you that you were naked? Have you ate from the Tree in which I commanded you not to?"

You did not answer him right away, inhaling a shaky breath of aromatic wind as you hugged your arms closer to your body. Shame filled you to your core, having lost the confidence in God's forgiveness now that you were met face to face.

"The serpent deceived me, and I ate," you cried, falling at his bare feet in humiliation. "I fell into temptation and disobeyed your command. Please, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned in the only way you told me not to!" you begged, hands clasped into a fist, uncaring of your bare form before his eyes.

God no longer looked at you with the same love and adoration as you were accustomed to, eyes now filled with fury and hate you never knew him capable of. He turned away from you, vision trained on something within the lush, knee-high grass you could not see.

"Because you have done this, cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly, and you will eat dust all the days of your life!" he raged at the emerald serpent, who only stared at him with unblinking, slanted, amber eyes.

So Aemond had not abandoned you, you realized fleetingly, a flame of hope and gratitude flickering in your chest before God turned to you again.

"I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor, you will give birth to children. Adam shall not receive the punishment I bestow upon you, and your desire will be for your husband, who will rule over you," he seethed, index finger pointing accusingly. "Cursed is the ground because of you! Through painful toil, you will eat food from it all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow, you will consume your food until you return to the ground since you were taken from it!"

You wailed, helplessly so, crumbling on your knees before God as you prayed the forgiveness he claimed his love rought but received none. "For dust you are, and to dust you will return," he declared, a roar of thunder clapping through the sky despite the blue of it as he vanished as quickly as he came.

You collapsed on all fours, digging your fingers into the soil, sod sticking under your nails as you sobbed. Cries of despair shook your body, clawing your throat raw as your tears watered the grass below.

God had abandoned you when you needed him most. He scorned you as blood stained your thighs and bruises littered your skin. You felt hopeless-helpless in your isolation that combined with bitterness in your broken heart.

What kind of God disregarded those who worshiped the ground he walked on? You devoted your existence to glorifying him, you put your undying trust into him, and when you needed him most, he punished you. This was his fault.

You confided your troubles to the Father, who dismissed you, blaming you for your plights and saying that the only solution would be sacrificing more of yourself until nothing was left. And you listened ignorantly. You followed the shepherd God like the lamb Satan claimed you to be, and this is where he left you. Alone with only the sounds of chirping birds and crickets with the scent of mud clinging to your flesh.

Fury scratched its way out of your soul as you screamed, pounding your fists again and again and again into the dampened sod until you left impactions in your wake. You mourned for the loss of the life you once knew, now replaced with hardship and permanent subservience to your already king husband.

You hated Adam for dismissing you. You hated God for condemning you. An inferno of emotions you had never felt burned at your insides, charring them until nothing was left but blackened rot.

You felt the familiar smooth scales of a snake wind itself across your torso in an almost comforting manner, slithering down your arm and raising gooseflesh before you quickly snatched it by the hinge of its jaw.

You stared into the tan color of its iris, your tears drying and cracking your cheeks. "I should kill you," you spat, meanly pinching the vertebrae behind the serpent's glimmering green head.

"Do it, little lamb. Kill me," he hissed, a challenging gleam in his beady stare. He knew you could not do it just as you did, but it did not quell the anger in your heart.

You glared at Aemond in rage, eyes puffy and red as your chin trembled. The idea ran through your head as if it happened before you, smashing his small arrow-shaped skull with a stone until his bones and brains were mush. It gave you great joy to imagine, envisioning the smell of his coppery blood as it stained the ground as your tears did, yet you did not move. You stared at Aemond, teeth clenched as you observed the rosey flicking of his forked tongue.

"Show yourself to me," you declared, placing his slender body on the ground as your brows set in a firm line.

Slowly, before your eyes, you no longer saw a serpent but a man. The same man who stole your virtue and surrendered you to ensure the wrath of God alone, kneeling in front of you.

"You left me." The words weighed on your tongue like rocks, not fully admitting what you wanted to say due to your pride.

Aemond's gaze flicked over your naked form, taking note of the welts and essence he left behind. "I did," he replied, voice impassive.

You let the silence hang, ire still evident in your expressions as you observed his stoic face. What would ending his life do? While it would give you great pleasure to seek revenge on someone, it would not change God's decision or your fate. It would not make Adam see you as an equal and not a being less than him.

As if Aemond could sense your inner turmoil, he took your shaking hand in his, steadying it with a gentleness you did not know him capable of. It startled you, causing you to flinch, but he held firm. Was this the true Aemond or another side of him? Was he as wicked and cruel as he was when he stole your virtue, or was that simply a response to the same abandonment he felt from the Lord?

Suddenly, you understood him. You were both creatures victim of a callus and vengeful God who only found love in blind obedience-a God who did not want his ultimate authority ever brought into question. He did not like those who did not follow him in unthinking faith. He wanted lambs, not autonomous beings with thoughts and ideals. He desired those who would serve him and his teachings without question, no matter the harm it would do.

You would serve no God or man but yourself.

Swiftly, you shoved Aemond onto his back with a thud, straddling his waist as you pinned his wrists beside his fanned-out silver hair. You gazed into his eyes, a completely black obsidian orb and an expressionless sapphire one staring back, searching for something as you leaned over his sculpted face, your breath fanning across his skin. Slotting your nose with his, you felt a surge of possession overcome you, poking your moist tongue from between your lips and licking a stripe up the raised flesh of his scar.

Aemond shuddered beneath you, his hardening cock stirring to life between your folds. It felt empowering to know that you affected him as much as he did you, and a smile graced your wet mouth at the realization. You removed yourself from him, observing the way his glistening chest heaved, gradually forming a blush to the pale flesh from the heat of your body.

The dried blood and spent coating your thighs flaked annoyingly on your skin, sticking onto Aemond's hips in brittle chunks as a smirk adorned your features. "You ought to clean me up after what you did," you jeered, sliding your palms down his arms. "It is disgraceful to leave the woman you fucked in such a disheveled state."

Aemond watched you in what only could be described as wonder as you brought your womanhood to hover over his visage, hands now digging into your plush waist. His mouth watered at the sight before him, the blood coating your groin, his seed still weeping from your entrance. He was proud to have left his mark on your perfect body, spoiling you against God.

Oh, how you had changed from the sweet, innocent, unknowing little lamb he met you as...

You arched a quizzical brow, lips in a thin line as you waited for Aemond to stop his ogling and give what you asked. "Go on," you urged with the tilt of your head, voice holding a coldness you had never heard.

Aemond did not hesitate, bringing your core to his mouth as warmth spread throughout your body. He followed your commands earnestly, eagerly cleaning the mess as that familiar pleasure sprouted. You had not realized there was a tenseness to your muscles until his tongue forced you to relax, laving the crust of his seed and your essence around your cunt.

The sheer dominance at having the Devil himself betwixt your legs was intoxicating, releasing guttural, wanton moans as his aquiline nose brushed against your throbbing bud. Aemond let out a contented sound at the salty and coppery taste sliding down his throat, believing he had never had such a divine essence in his mouth until now.

"You are God's most vile creation, tricking and tempting innocents into your desires," you snarled, undulating your hips across his mouth. "Now, it is time for me to treat you the same."

You could see your blood staining the area around his mouth and nose, creating the most beautiful, debauched shade of scarlet on his skin as he focused his efforts on the button at the top of your mound. Uncaring whether Aemond could breathe, you dug your fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots as your legs tightened around his head.

He began to lap at your entrance, his spit stinging the raw skin and creating a delicious burn of pain and pleasure as he stroked the rough patch between your walls. You were in control, the vicelike grip around Aemond's skull giving him no choice but to bring you the ecstasy, the thought setting your nerves a light. It filled you with more satisfaction than when he was there previously, having him at your mercy. You were his God now. He worshiped your cunt as you did the Lord every moment of your life.

Removing your fingers from Ameond's hair, you intertwined them with yours, guiding them to your neglected breasts as you continued to grind against his face. He pinched and flicked your nipples taught, sending jolts of bliss through your veins and straight to your aching cunt.

The musky scent of sweat and bodies hung in the once-floral environment, infecting the air with your shared sins. Aemond's darkness infiltrated your head, the toxic sludge poisoning your mind further into wanting things only the most despicable creatures desired. You hoped for Adam to happen upon you both, to see what he was missing under God's thumb, to have him realize that you were not less than simply because the Lord told him so.

The same knot as before wound inside your stomach, your body trembling and tensing all over as Aemond's fists left your soft breasts and landed on your hips, pushing your core further onto his mouth. Your muscles went slack at the intensity of his movements, leaning back and balancing your weight on your palms on both sides of him.

Aemond's cock flickered at the edge of your vision, a ruddy and almost angry-looking head weeping a pearlescent liquid. You had not seen his cock in its full glory until now, bluish veins running along the underside of his long, flesh-colored shaft as it twitched with every flick of his tongue.

The sight made your mouth water, wishing to take him as he did you, but could not from this angle. You instead held a shaking arm out, grasping his member in your delicate hand. Aemond's hips bucked in response, surprise covering his chiseled, angelic features, focus unfaltering. You pumped him experimentally a few times, observing which strokes and squeezes made his toes curl and legs bend.

You eventually discovered a pace and grip that had him moaning into your core, sending a gratifying vibration through you, watching as Aemond's slit leaked more milky liquid, nearly disappearing under the blanket of his blushed foreskin. His ministrations plucked at the knotted threads one by one, leading you closer and closer to your release before you stopped yourself short, lungs stuttering at the loss of ecstasy.

Hastily, you removed your cunt from his mouth, his lips and tongue chasing after it in want. You smiled at the slight frown on his glistening lips, placing your womanhood on the throbbing heat of his cock and leisurely grinding your hips against him. Aemond groaned throatily into himself, attempting to stifle it with a thrust, palms finding themselves back on your waist to assist.

"Put it in you," he demanded, voice hoarse as his hips rolled with yours. While he wanted to give you the lead, he could only take so much, perspiration dampening his brow and testing his patience.

You ceased your movements, roughly snatching his cock in a brutal ironclad grip and gracing a reprimanding slap to his cheek as punishment for his demands. "You shall not command me," you growled, harshly stroking the smooth flesh until he hissed in discomfort. "No longer shall I wait hand and foot on men or follow those in blind faith. I will serve only myself for I am my own creation."

Aemond could not hide his lopsided smirk at your words, pride filling his chest. His plans had come to fruition. He caused God's favorite daughter to go astray and see him for what he was. Finally, another being in the vast cosmos understood his pain. It bound you to him, a realization you were gradually accepting.

"I am the neglected child that burns the village down to feel its warmth. I will spurn God and all men he creates," you hissed, positioning your hips above his cock with agonizingly slow movement.

Yes, Aemond thought. Yes, yes, yes, succumb to your dark desires.

"I will sow the seed of doubt and sin with the fruits of my labors. My children will infect their minds and bodies, inspire animosity and harm to others. They shall start wars and believe in gods that are not true," you declared, the heat of your rage warming Aemond's cold heart.

You slid him inside, your walls choking his cock with a profound sigh. He stretched you deliciously, the hurt a welcomed feeling as his head reached so far inside you felt as if it kissed your womb. You began to slowly work yourself atop him, still unaccustomed to the feeling and letting out noiseless mewls of satisfaction. Aemond's cockhead rubbed at your sweet spot with every undulation, sending webs of pleasure to stick to your bones.

Control was intoxicating, watching Aemond puff and struggle to accept that he was beneath you, helpless but to take the same pleasure he forced on you. You understand now why God kept you from the Tree. No one should have this much authority.

"No longer am I the sheep but now the wolf that kills the herd and the shepherd," you express with a prolonged breath.

Aemond sighed and nodded his head briskly, agreeing to whatever you said so long as you kept him inside your warm cunt. You continued to grind yourself against him; the combination of satisfaction within your body and on the out sent a new wave of slickness from your core. Your bud tantalizingly rubbed the firm muscle of Aemond's pubic mound, the hairs adding a different texture that spread a great heat underneath your skin.

"I will supply you an army of my blood and your seed. We shall wreak vengeance on God. He will know the pain he has caused ten-fold," you gasped, moving yourself up and down with the muscles of your abdomen and thighs.

Aemond wished for you to go slower, yet faster. The sensation of just laying there, taking it, unable to regain control he had grappled with all his life, was mind-numbing. Your words kindled the flames that licked his gut. The idea of you creating life with your flesh, the unspoken sacrifice of excruciating agony you would willingly put yours through, made him combust, his hot seed sprouting and planting into your walls at an embarrassing speed.

You grinned at the feeling of his spend taking home inside you, having only been riding him for mere moments before he came. It stoked your ego, inflating it into a size that rivaled Aemond's as he whimpered below you, curling into himself. You refused to stop despite his pleas of overstimulation. You had not reached your fulfillment yet, and you had no intention of halting it.

Men like him deserved to suffer, albeit pleasurably. If Aemond meant what he said when he convinced you to eat the Fruit, that you would have the power you subconsciously craved, this would be a consequence. You would push him to the brink of painful ecstasy to ensure your end, as he certainly would for you. It was equality, after all.

"Does it hurt?" you cooed, repeating his words as you leaned over his heaving body, continuing your ministrations. "Now you know how it feels to be so helpless to your body, to the pleasures of the flesh one can give you."

Aemond understood with the voice in the back of his mind that he could easily overwhelm you. Your physical strengths were no match for him, but he wanted you to have a taste of the power beings like him and God possessed.

You stroked the delicate skin of Aemond's visage tenderly, contrasting the intricate movements of your hips as you greedily chased your high. You were smashing your lips against his, creating a mess of teeth and moans as you led his hand down to the apex of your thighs, wordlessly commanding him. Aemond bucked and twitched, unable to control himself as he felt another agonizing release crest at his lower back. If Aemond wanted this torture to be over, he would have to earn it.

You forced his fingers to draw firm, sloppy circles around your swollen bud, groaning as a shudder wracked your body, your release winding right in your stomach. Finally, you removed your mouth from Aemond's, sucking in a ragged breath of air as you shuddered over him. Your hips gradually began to stall, the muscles within your thighs burning with inexperienced exertion as Aemond gazed at your damp face with besotted amazement.

Your ethereal glow had vanished, no doubt as punishment for your disobedience, but he did not believe it affected your beauty. You were divine in Aemond's eyes, not only in appearance but in representation. The Lord could create things out of dust, but you, you could make things out of your essence. While God still could raise his creations with love and dominance, they could always reject their Father, for they were made from nothing, but your children could not escape you, their mother's blood. This was a power God would never possess, a strength he had kept hidden from you until Aemond opened your eyes.

He believed that the Lord purposely kept you blind from this quality of yourself. It was partially the reason why he groomed you to think you were less than him and Adam, for if you knew the true power that was made into the very biological code of your being, you would understand that you and God were equal. There is no influence as powerful as a mother's, and even God could not deny that.

You felt your peak rising with every swipe of Aemond's digits and every tremble of your legs, chest heaving and sweat dripping down your sternum. Eventually, Aemond's overstimulation gave way to pleasure, helpless and near lightheaded as he attempted to chase the salty droplets on your breasts. He licked and sucked at your nipples, rolling them between his tongue and teeth with every groan.

Finally, you came with an Earth-shattering cry, your walls subconsciously milking Aemond for all his worth as his movements continued on your bud. You shivered and shuddered as your climax seized your muscles, lungs unable to inhale a grounding breath as each wave crashed into you and rattled your bones. He wanted to prolong your high, seeking gratification in your own until he busted, cock once again filling your womb with his seed. He whimpered underneath you, back arching and legs bowing, the sound like the sticky, saccharine honey you licked from your fingers for breakfast every morning.

Collapsing into Aemond's hard chest, you felt his spend leak from your cunt. You had never felt so complete, so unequivocally stuffed and sated, that you felt yourself drift into a plane of the unknown existence. Perhaps this was what heaven felt like? The thought rattled in your brain as you blinked leisurely, gaze fuzzy. Perhaps pleasure like this was what God wanted to protect you from, not autonomy and sentience. Maybe he knew that if you or Adam ate the Forbidden Fruit, your mind and body would be opened to vices of the flesh.

It did not matter now. What was done was done. God abandoned you and condemned you to a life of hardship, subservience, and mental and physical anguish. He left you without a care for your well-being, with blood between your legs and your innocence stolen.

Resentment reignited in your chest, pushing yourself off Aemond with a subdued grunt. He eyed you with a quirked brow, his seeing-eye now a prominent blue matching the sapphire that reflected the sun's rays in a caleidoscope of cerulean across your countenance.

You stood over Aemond's prone form, his arms winding behind his head as he gazed up at you quizzically. You could not help but admire his lithe form, body toned, the muscles of his arms and legs sculpted around his bones, tendons rippling as he stretched lazily. He was the most magnificently shaped being you had ever seen, and Aemond knew it, smirking beside himself as he watched your gaze drift to his softened member.

He suddenly seemed so much more human, the realization flicking a switch inside your mind. Aemond was an angel, yes, God's former morning star, but you did not see him above you anymore. He was no longer Lucifer, Satan, or Mephistopheles, the ruler of Hell, God's fallen attendant. To you, he was simply Aemond, a being that had titles that meant nothing now.

Yet you were no longer just Eve, for that name felt like the title of a dead woman, a woman who was blind, reedy, and ignorant to the reality of what the world had to offer, a woman who lived with blinders on her face until a serpent opened her mind. You would not thank Aemond for doing so. He did not do it out of the goodness of his heart. Just like now, how you vowed to repudiate God's will, you were a part of his plan, though you did not believe he thought it would end in this turn of events.

Aemond smiled above at you, his scar wrinkling as he raised his arm in your direction, an invitation to join him at his side. You stared at his offering with reservation, swallowing a lump you didn't realize had formed. You understood that this action was more than just an invitation to touch, your future weighing heavily in his palm. He was wordlessly giving you the option to turn away from the road ahead, to run back into the comfort of the known and away from the discomfort of the unknown. He placed before you autonomy and control of your fate, and it caused you to pause.

What would life be with the Devil at your side? Would he force you to become his servant as God did? You gave Aemond your body and womb, parts of you that you did not realize you could provide to others, and he used it to further his agenda. Yes, you were enraged that he treated you as a tool, but you knew you could do the same for him as quickly. If not for you, Aemond wouldn't have his army. He would still be stuck in the fire and brimstone below, fuming and plotting the perfect moment for his vengeance.

"I will be your equal, not your disciple." Your voice rang out through the Garden, now smooth and authoritative, reminding you of your vindictive God.

Aemond only smiled. He looked as if he was the one who resided on Earth, and you were the fallen angel, curling his toes and lengthening his torso as he adjusted atop the flattened grass.

"Did I imply you would not be?" he inquired with a raised, lightly colored brow.

You took Aemond's hand in yours, intertwining them together. He was surprisingly warm, tucking you into his side as a noiseless gasp escaped your lips, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. The action sent a shudder down your spine, having never been in a purely soft, intimate position with a man, even Adam, as your body relaxed.

From your blood, you would create the demons of the world. The thoughts inside your fellow human heads that told them to steal that toy from your friend simply because you wanted it. You would never forgive God for what he did. Those who claimed to understand what was best for you-loved you did not punish you with pain and suffering for actions that were not your own.

Your eyes flitted across his toned abdomen, eyes drifting down his stomach and to his fleshy cock, pink and beating with life.

No longer would you be subservient to others; you would raise your children with loving yet gentle hands, allowing them to choose how they conducted their business and protecting them from those who sought harm. Your love would be unyielding and unending, unlike your so-called benevolent God, and then, he would finally see the depths of which the true devotion of love could bring.

Masterlist of Works

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