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natsaffection · 6 months

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Kingdom of Secrets | Prologue | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 16 when she comes to the palace and the reader is 4 years old. At the end of this chapter Natasha is 33 and reader 21) fingering, begging, crying

word count: 4,5k

A/n: welcome to the prologue of Kingdom of Secrets! (Yes the title has a meaning) This is just the opening chapter. So it's not the first real part. It cost me already tears because I wanted it to come across the way people spoke back in the Middle Ages..so please give feedback!🫂

In the heart of the great kingdom of Celestria, where emerald fields stretch as far as the eye can see and spires kiss the sky, there was great anticipation in the royal court. King Alistair and Queen Seraphina Dawn, the beloved rulers of the realm, had long yearned for an heir to carry on the legacy of their noble lineage. The palace echoed with the whispers of courtiers as news spread of a momentous event.

Queen Seraphina was expecting a child.

Months passed, each one accompanied by prayers and whispered hopes echoing through the halls of the palace. The kingdom collectively held its breath, waiting for the joyous news that would bring new life to the royal family. The gardens adorned with blooming flowers bore witness to the ebb and flow of the seasons, reflecting the anticipation within the palace walls.

And then, as the golden colors of autumn tinged the landscape, the long-awaited moment arrived. Like a melody of hope, the announcement resounded through the kingdom and spread from town to town. Queen Seraphina had given birth to a daughter, a shining beacon of joy in the embrace of her parents' love.

The kingdom erupted in jubilation. Banners swayed in the fresh breeze, their colors dancing to the rhythm of the joy that flowed through the streets. The citizens rushed to the gates of the palace in their finest clothes to join in the royal rejoicing. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the distant sounds of musicians tuning their instruments heralded the great celebrations to come.

Inside the palace, the little princess lay in her mother's arms, wrapped in a tapestry of delicate silk. Queen Seraphina's eyes, glistening with tears of happiness, met King Alistair's gaze, a silent exchange that spoke volumes about the unspoken journey they had traveled to reach this blessed moment.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the palace gates opened to welcome the many well-wishers. The Great Hall, decorated with golden tapestries and crystal chandeliers, shone in the light of a thousand candles. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles, commoners and dignitaries alike joined in the celebration.

In the midst of this splendor, the little princess lay in her crib, surrounded by a symphony of admiration. Her tiny fingers, like rose petals, grasped at the air as if reaching for the love that surrounded her. The flickering candlelight painted her delicate features and cast a warm, ethereal glow on her.

Y/n, as she would later be called, became the beacon of hope that united the kingdom. Her laughter echoed through the palace like silver bells, eliciting smiles from all who basked in her innocent radiance. The court musicians, attuned to the heartbeat of the celebration, played melodies that blended with the collective heartbeat of the kingdom, a harmonious testament to the unity created by the birth of the princess.

Over the years, the princess's birthdays became a cherished tradition. The kingdom celebrated with greater fervor each year, turning the anniversary of her birth into a grand spectacle. The gardens, where once the whispers of anticipation could be heard, now bloomed in vibrant colors that reflected the princess's exuberant spirit.On her birthdays, the people of Celestria gathered to honor their beloved princess. The streets were lined with stalls selling sweet treats and enchanting trinkets. Musicians played lilting melodies and performers brought fairy tales to life through dance and theater. But amidst the splendor, it was Y/n herself who was in the spotlight.

Her laughter, the elixir that had breathed life into the kingdom years ago, echoed through the air. The joy that emanated from her was infectious and transformed the celebration into a mosaic of smiles and shared happiness. Y/n had become the living embodiment of the kingdom's dreams with her sparkling eyes and a heart full of kindness.

As Y/n grew, so did the kingdom around her. The once silent halls of the palace echoed with the footsteps of a vibrant princess whose spirit danced like the sunlight that fell through the leaves. She became a symbol of hope, bridging the realms of royalty and commonality - a beacon of unity for a kingdom that had waited with bated breath for her arrival.

And so, under the golden skies of Celestria, the royal court and citizens celebrated the birth of their princess, whose laughter echoed throughout the kingdom, mingling with the melodies of joy that had marked her grand entrance into the world.

But a shadowy group lurked in the hidden corridors beneath the splendor of the kingdom. Unseen and unheard, this gang shrouded in mystery plotted insidiously to infiltrate the royal house.

In the dimly lit chamber adorned with ancient symbols, the agents of the group - Shadows of Darkness - received a chilling instruction. The leaders, shrouded in the cloak of shadows, readjusted their strategy. Princess Y/n, an unforeseen variable, demanded an adjustment to their malevolent plans.

As Y/n's laughter rang through the palace, the group's secret game unfolded on an invisible chessboard. The birth of the princess upset their carefully laid plans and brought an element of unpredictability into play. Beneath the surface of the festivities, a calculated dance played out, where joyful echoes collided with the malice lurking in the shadows. Citizens and royalty revelled in blissful ignorance, unaware of the ominous threat lurking in the hidden corners of the palace. A dangerous dance began. One in which the laughter of a princess served as an eerie soundtrack to a covert operation that would reshape Celestria's destiny.

As daylight bathed the kingdom in golden hues, the shadowy group moved in secrecy. Their ominous influence extended to unsuspecting future queens. The dark puppet, manipulated by unseen hands, infiltrated the royal court and left a menacing presence.

The king, who had followers in every country, became aware of the terrifying power. Fearing for his family and the future of his country, he had his troops strengthened and also looked for a guardian for his daughter. So he spread the word throughout the country that a tournament was to be held in the late evening and that the bravest and strongest fighters were to take part.The anticipation of the great tournament was in the air that day. The king, seeking the perfect protector for his most precious treasure, gathered warriors from faraway lands. Men vying for the honor of protecting the jewel of the realm presented themselves in the arena.

The tournament, a spectacle of skill and courage, began with the clash of swords and the thundering hooves of warhorses. Knights from all corners of the realm showcased their skills, a dance of blades played out under the watchful eyes of the royal court.

As the dust settled and countless fighters succumbed to the skill of their opponents, there was a quiet tension among the spectators. The king, seated on his magnificent throne, surveyed the remaining warriors, his keen eyes searching for the one who would serve as a shield against the impending danger to the princess. Then, amidst the remaining fighters, a lone, young figure emerged, clad in armor that seemed to absorb the essence of the shadows. The air fell silent as this knight stepped forward, exuding an aura of fear and admiration. A murmur went through the audience, a collective acknowledgement that a formidable force had entered the arena.

The king, mesmerized and wary, leaned forward in his throne, a silent question etched on his regal countenance. "Tell me, what is a child doing on the field?" he asked his 1st in command. He bowed to his king, "Forgive me, my majesty, but you emphasized that the gates were open to anyone carrying a sword." The king forced the moment back into his mind and now looked further down, at the person.

At that very moment, the mysterious knight removed the helmet, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair framing a face marked by the scars of countless battles. Her piercing gaze, a mixture of steel and determination, met the king's eyes with an unwavering intensity. A murmur went through the hall as the realization set in. "Lady, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff," someone breathed, the name inspiring both awe and fear. As the first young woman to be knighted, Natasha was widely known, and her accomplishments on the battlefield were whispered about in saintly tones. The king, who also learned of her presence, widened his eyes.

As she approached the king, Natasha dropped to one knee, a sign of respect and submission. Her armor bore the marks of countless victories, and the sword at her side was a testament to her skill as a warrior.

"Your Majesty," Natasha's voice, a symphony of authority and humility, echoed through the arena. "I am Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, sworn to protect those deemed worthy of the Empire's protection. I offer my skills and loyalty to defend your princess, the jewel of Celestria." The king, observing the steely determination in Natasha's eyes, pondered her words. Isn't she too young to be a knight? Presently good..She could form a bond with Y/n. He thought.

The court remained in a collective breathless pause, awaiting the monarch's decision. After a moment's thought, the king nodded, a gesture that echoed through the arena like a decree.

"Lady Natasha Romanoff, rise. You have proven that you are an excellent Fighter. May the realm be witness to your service as my daughter's protector."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whispers in appreciation of the gravity of the moment. Natasha rose from her knees and hid her features behind her helmet again. With measured steps, she returned to the ranks of the assembled knights, her presence leaving an indelible impression on the tournament and setting the stage for a new chapter in the kingdom's saga. Since then, the unique bond between the young princess and the fearless knight began to grow. Y/n, a little bundle of joyful energy, zoomed through the flowerbeds. "Tasha, look, I can fly!" she cried, spreading her tiny arms. Natasha, with a smile on her lips, leaned down. "Really? Show me, little whirlwind." And chase her through the field.

"Tasha, why are you so strong?" asked Y/n three years later, while they were playing in the halls. Natasha, with a mischievous smile, replied, "Strength comes not only from muscles, but also from courage and determination, my Princess."

The royal parents, from their thrones, watched the scene with warm smiles. "Look how Natasha is teaching our daughter," said the queen. The king nodded proudly. "A bond strengthened not only by duty, but also by the heart..I could not have chosen anyone better."

In the shelter of the pavilion, Y/n and Natasha talked about the years of shared experiences. "Promise me, Natasha, that you will always be by my side," Natasha, serious yet tender, replied, "As long as I breathe, I will watch over you, Princess."

Over the years, not only did Y/n grow up, but so did the love between her and Natasha. Adventures together, laughter and tears formed a bond that blurred the boundaries between princess and protector.

At the age of 20, Y/n found herself in the midst of an inner turmoil. The years had passed since Natasha had taken up residence as her protector, and a subtle change was creeping into the princess's mind.

In the quiet moments when the sun slowly disappeared behind the palace walls, Y/n discovered a growing urge to seek Natasha's closeness. Every look from the knightess, every gentle touch, seemed to break through an invisible barrier within Y/n.

The glances Natasha cast across the ballroom as they shared in royal festivities carried a deeper meaning. Y/n recognized the warmth in Natasha's eyes, which came not only from her proximity to the king, but betrayed something more intimate. Uncertainty gnawed at Y/n as she thought about these growing feelings. Society, royal expectations, all created a veil that kept her growing affection for Natasha hidden.

The Royal Mother observed the subtle changes in Y/n's behavior, but the secret remained hidden between the lines. Y/n felt her heart beat faster when she faced Natasha, and the soft sighs that escaped her were carried on the winds of fate.

One day, Natasha, bathed in sweat from the rigorous training session, gracefully moved through the courtyard, effortlessly wrestling each knight that dared to cross her path to the ground. As Y/n strolled through the palace, she unexpectedly caught sight of Natasha in action, sans her usual formidable armor.

Mesmerized by the raw power and agility on display, Yn found it challenging to look away. Natasha's every move seemed like a choreographed dance of strength and finesse. It was the first time Y/n had seen her like this, vulnerable yet invincible

Natasha, engrossed in her sparring session, sensed Y/n's eyes on her. Mid-wrestle with one of the knights, she subtly shifted her gaze to meet Y/n's, exhaling almost imperceptibly. In that brief connection, Natasha's intense focus softened, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips, as if she had caught Y/n in the act.

Y/n, startled by Natasha's awareness, quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in the palace architecture. The blush on her cheeks, however, betrayed her attempt to conceal the intrigue Natasha's athleticism had sparked.

She continued her training, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/n, despite her efforts to remain discreet, stole occasional glances, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice..

When a maid approached, unaware of the silent exchange, Y/n stammered, "I-I was just, you know, walking around," as she tried to divert attention from the fact that Natasha had momentarily captured her focus. Natasha, still engaged in her training, shot Y/n a knowing look, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement, silently acknowledging the unspoken connection while respecting Y/n's attempt to keep her feelings concealed.

Several hours passed, and Y/n immersed herself in the demands of royal duties. As she diligently attended to matters within the palace, she couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's training session. Much to her surprise, as she returned to the main hall, there was Natasha, seamlessly transitioning from warrior to protector, resuming her role by Y/n's side.

Their eyes met once again, and this time Natasha's expression spoke volumes. A playful glint in her eyes suggested a shared secret, referencing the earlier stolen glances. Y/n couldn't help but smile in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection they had formed.

Weeks later when the moon towered over Celestria, Y/n dared a tentative look into Natasha's eyes. It was as if the universe melded their souls together, and in that moment, Y/n knew it was more than mere reverence for the brave knight. The realization that her heart was following a path of love was like the blossoming of a delicate flower within her. But the world she lived in demanded secrecy - a love that blossomed in the shadow of royal duties.

Another year passed and Y/n's duties to the throne drew ever closer. Her parents now saw her as an adult woman who would later rule the people. However, this could not be done alone and the time had come to find a suitable mate. So they embarked on various journeys to neighboring countries to consider their princes and princesses. A point Y/n is proud to show. With all the fuss she secretly has about Natasha, her eyes opened to another part.

It was a sunny day when the royal family were visiting another kingdom. The family was welcomed with joy. But the festive atmosphere was pervaded by an underlying tension. As Y/n strode through the hall in royal garb, she was swarmed by the polite remarks and advances of the foreign prince. The looks he gave her were full of obvious interest, and the smile on his lips betrayed intentions that went beyond polite courtesies.

Natasha, standing in her imposing armor alongside the royal family, felt a flame of jealousy flare up inside her. Every passionate look, every touched hand, felt like a stab in her chest. In a quiet moment, when the prince engaged Y/n in a private conversation, Natasha could hardly bear the sight. Her hands clenched into fists as she inwardly fought back the burning sting of jealousy.

Finally, the festive gathering broke up and the royal family returned to their chambers. The opulent chambers of Y/n awoke to the pale glow of candles as the evening shrouded the royal estate in an atmosphere of twilight. The prince, wearing a polite facade, had made his intentions clear. But Natasha sensed the unease in the air. When the prince attempted to cross the boundaries of politeness and seek out Y/n in her chambers, Natasha turned cold as ice. Her eyes, normally as impenetrable as the darkness, bore into the young nobleman. Without a word, her gaze spoke volumes, and the prince retreated as if he had entered an invisible barrier.

When Natasha entered Y/n's chamber, the discomfort was reflected on Y/n's face. "Thank you.. I was so uncomfortable, but I didn't mean to be rude," Y/n murmured, her voice low in the intimate atmosphere. Natasha stepped closer, her touch cooler than the night breeze blowing through the open window. "My princess, you never have to compromise for politeness."

In a calculated move that blurred the line between protector and seductress, Natasha lifted Y/n's hand and stroked her fingertips over the delicate skin. "Don't let anyone enter your world if you don't want them to. You deserve respect and so much more."

The darkness of the room seemed to tighten around the two of them as Natasha continued, intensifying her own touch. "And maybe, there is someone..who is willing to go deeper than politeness allows."

The words echoed between the walls as the coolness of the night turned into a dance of desire. Y/n sensed the play of shadows as Natasha, took on the role of seductress. A passionate revelation that in the twilight of her chambers revealed a connection that transcended the duties of the royal hall.

The room lost its dimensions in darkness as Natasha and Y/n were caught in a mesmerizing dance of tension. Y/n's heartbeat quickened as Natasha's words sounded like a breath in the night, a promise that implied more than it stated. "Natasha, I don't know what you mean..." whispered Y/n, her voice caught between curiosity and an underlying desire that lingered in the air. Natasha stepped closer, her gaze like the dark veil of night that hid everything and yet revealed everything. "I speak of desire that goes deeper than any protocol that exists within the walls of a palace."

The atmosphere thickened as Natasha began to loosen Y/n's royal robes with deft fingers. "You can feel it, can't you? This suppressed energy between us. It's time to explore the shadows that lurk in the corners of our connection."

Y/n's breathing quickened as the warmth of Natasha's hands touched her skin. A mixture of fear and desire flickered in her eyes as she embraced the unknown.

"N-Natasha, I... Is this right?" asked Y/n, but her reticence was swallowed up by the darkness.

Natasha replied with a cool smile that betrayed a deep, hidden passion. "Right or wrong, Y/n, does not exist in this world of shadows. There is only what you desire and what you are willing to experience." The air between them was charged as Natasha gently placed her lips on Y/n's. A passionate kiss that burned down the blurred lines between duty and desire. Still, Natasha paused for a moment and looked her princess in the eye, “I notice your looks, your breath when I sneak up on you..you’re begging when I retreat to my chambers..” Natasha pushed the princess onto the bed. The redhead had Y/n's legs wide open. Open for her to devour.

Natasha licked her lips, staring at Y/n's underwear, a hungry look in her mouth. Y/n still felt the slight urge to protest. What is she doing here? What happens if her parents find out about this? Are they allowed-

But all words of resistance melted into a moan in her mouth as Natasha opened her entrance with her tongue. She lay down in front of Y/n, lifting the princess's legs by her thighs onto her shoulders. Natasha's tongue turned her princess's moans into groans and then shouts of ecstasy. After tasting Y/n for long enough, Natasha lifted her head. Her mouth was covered in Y/n's fluid, giving her face a glow that Y/n found simply intoxicating.

"How are you feeling? Can I continue?" Natasha's eyes widened as she saw the sight of her ruler. Spread wide and with her hands clenched in the pillows, "K-Keep going please..” Natasha smiled and climbed up to Y/n to take off her dress and while she undressed Y/n, Natasha kissed Y/n and she tasted herself on her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha inserted two of her fingers into Y/n. In response, the young princess let out a deep moan into Natasha's mouth as she slowly penetrated her. As Natasha alternated between driving her index and middle fingers in and out of Y/n's cavity, Y/n was disturbed by the amount of armor Natasha still had on and set about removing it.

Natasha smirked again as she realized what Y/n's plans were and sat back up, "You could have asked, my highness..." Y/n's eyes were wide as she watched Natasha remove every single piece of metal from her body. Eventually it just tinkled on the floor and Natasha stood before her in a white shirt. She wasted no more time and pounced on the young girl again.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" Natasha now asked, breathing in unison with her aroused ruler. She had already slipped a hand between Y/n's thighs and was leaning on her shorts. Y/n knew what Natasha wanted to hear. "Please.." she begged, "fuck me." Natasha watched Y/n's flushed face. It was so, so lewd. This time, however, Natasha stroked a finger over the edge of her labia and felt how far the wetness had spread.

"You really want it, don't you?" said Natasha with a hint of smugness in her voice. Y/n knew it wasn't to humiliate her, but rather to increase her sense of exposure.

Yes, I really fucking want it, Y/n wanted to say, but managed to hold back. Natasha, however, didn't miss the look on her face before she leaned in and slowly kissed Y/n again. She began to run her fingers up and down the wetness between Y/n's legs, stroking slowly and rhythmically.

Y/n held back any sound that wanted to come out of her mouth, knowing there was more to come. A touch slipped past a certain spot so briefly and lightly that Y/n's body flinched in response. Natasha had to keep her senses together, just a little longer. The stroking and kissing gradually became faster, without either of them noticing against the backdrop of their growing arousal. Natasha's fingers were touching Y/n's clit more and more frequently now, and Y/n couldn't keep up, the tension between her legs growing and her mouth remaining slightly open.

"A-A-hh..." she gasped, and her body arched back more and more. She was crying out now, twisting and turning, her clit at the center of the movement, her hands wrapped around Y/ns, her face pressed into her shoulders, her upper body arched so that her breasts and erect nipples moved against Natasha's body in the same rhythm as the caresses between her thighs. "Nat-..Natasha...!" She cried out. "I'm... ah, I'm..."

Natasha kissed her neck in response and concentrated fully on bringing Y/n to climax. She wanted to hear her princess scream, to feel her thrusting against her body in a frenzy of pleasure. She wanted Y/n to lose all inhibitions and move against her hand like a horny slut. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Her hips and buttocks began to move against Natasha, thrusting towards her with desire, begging her not to stop. It felt so dirty to cooperate and beg so earnestly, but Y/n didn't care about any of it. Natasha moaned along with Y/n and couldn't hold back either after listening to Y/n feel this way about her.

“Cum for me.”

When Y/n heard Natasha's soft and loving voice moaning like that, she shook with pleasure. Her mind went blank. The room disappeared, the bed vanished. The world consisted only of her body, which contracted and pulsated to release all its pent-up arousal in one go. Y/n didn't know how much time had passed while she trembled and shook and moaned, even though she didn't want to. All she knew was that Natasha had been holding her the whole time and watched every single facial feature of her beloved princess.

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swiftieblyth · 2 months

Text

Tangled start

warnings- long but cute

a/n- feel free to skip some of the dialogue, it’s mostly the Tangled script, just Tom and Y/N. Don’t worry, not the full movie

You and Tom were in the recording studio, it was the first day and you were going to do voiceovers and songs.

You were so excited to sing with Tom. Not just at home or karaoke. Tom didn’t give himself enough credit when it came to singing.

“Okay,” the director called from the other side of the glass with headphones on, knocking you out of your thoughts, as you and Tom stood up. “Okay, Tom how about you start with your opening monologue then we’ll go from there.”

“Cool.” Tom smiled, walking to the microphone, as you sat back down, ready to watch him.

“Ready when you are,” the sound guy said.

“This is the story of how I died,” Tom started in his American accent. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. “Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl named Repunzal. And it starts, with the sun.

Now once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden, flower. It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, you see that old woman over there? You might want to remember her. She’s kind of important. Well, centuries passed and a hop skip and a boat ride away there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen. And the queen, well she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really sick. She was running out of time. And that’s when people usually start looking for a medical. Or in this case, a magic golden flower. Ahh, I told you she’d be important. You see, instead of sharing the Sun’s gift, this women, Mother Gothel, hoarded its healing power and used it to keep herself young for hundreds of years. And all she had to do was sing a special song.

All right, you got the gist. She sings, she turns young. Creepy, right?

The magic of the golden flower heals the queen. A healthy baby girl, a princess was born,” Tom explained looking at you, which made you smile even more. “With beautiful golden hair. I’ll give you a hint. That’s Repunzal. To celebrate her birth, the King and Queen lunched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then, that moment ended.

Gothel broke into the castle and stole the child. And just like that…gone. The Kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the princess. For deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Gothle raised the child as her own.

Gothel had found her new magic flower. But this time she was determined to keep it hidden.

Butt the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Each year, on her birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the sky in hope that one day, their lost princess would return.”

“Cut!”

“Tommy, that was amazing!” You smiled, getting up to walk to him.

“Thank you my love,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you hugged him.

“It was so beautiful, my very own Flynn Rider.” You smiled, kissing his lips.

💜💜💜

“Okay, and now for the final monologue, Y/N, you’re in this too.”

“Okay,” you smiled, as you and Tom walked over to the mic.

“Well,” Tom started in his American accent. “You could imagine what happens next. The kingdom rejoiced. The lost princess had returned. The party lasted an entire week. And, honestly, I don’t remember much of it. Dreams came true all over the place. That guy went on to become the most famous concert pianist in the world. And that guy? Well he eventually found someone to love. As for this guy, well, I assume he’s happy. He’s never told me otherwise. Thanks to Maximus, crime in the kingdom disappeared almost over night. As did most of the apples. Pascal, never changed. At last Rapunzal was home, and she finally had a family. She was a Princess worth waiting for,” Tom smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, making you smile. “But above all, she lead her kingdom with all the grace and wisdom that her parents did before her. And as for me, well. I started to go by Eugene again. Stopped thieving, basically turned it all around. But I know what the big question is; did Rapunzel and I ever get married? Well I’m please to tell you. After years, and years of asking, and asking, and asking. I finally said yes.”

“Eugene,” You let out, rolling your eyes.

“All right,” Tom cut in, tickling your rib. “I asked her.”

“And we’re living happily ever after,” you smiled, looking up at him, so see his baby blue eyes looking at you.

“Yes we are.” Tom said, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“And cut!” The director yelled. “Great job!”

You and Tom pulled away from each other and took to your headset. You opened the door and walked out and were met by Lady running up to you both.

Her little tail was wagging, and her tongue was out, as she jumped up on yours and Tom’s legs.

“Hi, darling,” Tom smiled, picking her up. Lady barked and licked his face.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” you smiled, kissing her, and rubbing your face against hers.

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kondensaduhhh · 1 year

Text

a continuation of this, again the Spider Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan AU belongs to @dirtytransmasc

Jake was worried. Not only for how his family will handle such a great loss, but how they were going to lay Spider to rest. It was without a doubt that Spider was a child of Eywa through and through, from how he walked and prowled the forest, hunting, obeying Eywa’s laws, how he wore his hair and clothing, to how Pandora seemingly took care of Spider, as She would her own na’vi children. Despite all of this, Spider was still human. He had no tail, no large, yellow eyes adapted to the dark, a heightened sense of hearing, and most importantly, he had no queue.

Jake and Neytiri, but mostly Neytiri, made sure to let Spider know that he was no less worthy of being part of the omaticaya or their family because of these physical differences. They made sure that Spider felt loved, and never felt left out whenever his human-ness prevented him from certain events, like his inability to eat some of the foods prepared during feasts or celebrations, they had Norm and the scientists to make an edible equivalent of na’vi foods made from Earth food, or when he and Neteyam’s iknimaya, he had to sit the ikran taming part out, Jake remembered how Spider had begged to at least try to tame one, and his mate had overheard and refused, because while Neytiri as traditional, she wants to ‘keep her son alive, MaJake, Eywa, give me strength’.

But Spider never could disobey his Ma, especially if it made her this distressed, so he sat it out, watched Neteyam took to the sky, yelling and hollering alongside Kiri and Lo’ak. Eventually though, when Kiri and Lo’ak’s iknimaya happened and got their own ikran, after riding behind either Neteyam or Kiri, never Lo’ak because those two together make the most dangerous decisions, and together they can convince Neteyam to do stupid shit with them.

Jake remembered how his blood ran cold and how fast he ran when Spider, who was riding behind Lo’ak, fell when the ikran made a loop, flipping them upside down, only to be caught by Neteyam on his ikran, before repeating what Lo’ak just did, with Spider airborne again, he remembered how he can hear their hollering and laughing, then him yelling at them to ‘cut that shit out and get your asses down here!’. Needless to say, they were all grounded for the next month.

When he told his mate, her eyes widened, asking a thousand questions, if all of them were safe, did any of them get hurt, and breathing sigh of relief when he said they were alright. “They get that from you.” she exasperates, Jake chuckles and retorts, “They get that from you too.”

As years years went, Spider got better at jumping from ikran to ikran, walking from Neteyam’s ikran, to Lo’ak’s, and finally to Kiri’s to simply just say something. A profound proof that Spider belongs on Pandora, Neytiri says so, whenever they see Spider attempt things no sky person will be able to pull off, a bright smile and an echoing laughter on his face as he does.

Their Spider, their son, who is not only their child, but also Eywa’s.

Now, Jake worries whether the cove of ancestors will accept his human body or not. Still, as they wrap and prepare their son, (so small, he was only sixteen, their son was only sixteen), Neytiri praying to the Great Mother, seemingly having the same worries as Jake, for Her to take care of him, to accept him, to let him rest among Her children that came before him.

All of them holds Spider, their brother, their son, as they lower him into the water, his mask was gone from his face, the water making his curls cover his face, and with an expression Jake never wanted to see on Tuk, she gently brushes them out of the way. Opposite of their youngest, is Neytiri, who looks so tired, she brushes the back of her fingers against their son’s cheek, like how she used to when she first met him, his blond hair still so fair, almost white in it’s lightness, oh how Jake’s heart rejoiced as he saw her fall in love with the human child, but now his already shattered heart breaks impossibly further.

In front of him was Kiri, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing his arm, like how she used to when they fell asleep together in the forest. They were inseparable when Neytiri got them to meet, Spider was still too small for an exo pack, but they seemed to have been able to communicate with no words exchanged, and when he was finally big enough for an exo pack, they understood each other the way no one else can and would wander through the forest like they were made for it. Kiri brought out the gentleness and softness in their rambunctious, excitable Spider, and Spider protected her when the other children teased her for having such qualities.

Trailing close behind them was Lo’ak and Neteyam. Lo’ak, for once, looks like his mother, tired, too tired for a boy his age. Much like Kiri, when Spider and Lo’ak met, they clicked instantly, wreaking havoc whereever they went, feeding off of each other’s energy, if Spider was mad at somebody, Lo’ak was mad at them too, if Lo’ak likes something, Spider likes it too, and if one of them has an idea, it’s ride or die.

And Neteyam, oh Neteyam, looks like he is one wrong braid in the wrong place away from crying, Neteyam made Spider more responsible, and Spider made sure that his baby brother still knows to have fun and enjoy himself.

‘I’m bigger than you, if anything you’re the baby brother’ ‘Ah, nah, bro, I got to hold you when you were a baby, so you’re definitely the baby brother, now do as i say’ they laughed, when Neteyam tried to swipe at Spider but spider was too fast.

As gently as they could, they let Spider sink. They watched in anticipation as his body lowered. Slowly, Eywa embraces their son, their brother, She has accepted him. Kiri cries, tears lost in the sea, in both grief and happiness, now that her brother is with the Great Mother’s care. She takes hold of Tuk’s hand, as Neytiri takes a hold of his, her other hand covering her nose and mouth, swallowing a sob. After a few moments, Jake sees Neteyam let out a gust of air and immediately coming up into the open air, Lo’ak follows suit. Jake gestures to his girls to come up. When they emerged from the water, they heard Neteyam’s sobs first, before the image of him weeping into one hand, the other around Lo’ak.

Jake swims closer, as does the rest of the family, “I should’ve- but I- I couldn’t do anything, i wasn’t fast enough, i should’ve-“ Jake holds his son, shushing him, stroking his hair, “Neteyam, you have been strong for too long, it’s okay-“ “-no it’s not-“ “ you tried your best, and for that Spider would be proud of you,” he whispers, “I didn’t save him,” he sobbed, “I’m sorry, buddy, it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, im so sorry.” at this point everyone had offered some comfort to Neteyam, be it a side hug from Lo’ak, a proper hug from Tuk, Kiri wiping away his tears, and Neytiri kissing Neteyam’s forehead, whispering, “my son, my mighty warrior, it will be okay”

Once Neteyam has calmed down, they all swim down to see Spider.

They make the connection and for a while, everything was white, a wriggling fear that it won’t work, but then, laughter.

“Dad! Dad, look!” Spider hangs upside down from a branch, with no mask, in all his shining joy, “i’m so much faster than Neteyam now!” Jake breathes a grounding breath, Spider jumped down from branch to branch with ease and efficiency “Dad? You okay? What happened?”

“Nothing, son, just… i’m real happy to see you, i’m so proud,” He says, unable to keep the wetness out of his voice, he brings a hand to the side of his face, caressing what he, they normally can’t.

Spider laughs, it’s short, but by Eywa, did Jake miss it, “Okay, dad.” He just smiles, warm brown eyes, so lively than the last he saw it, scared and light flickering and then gone.

“Monkey boy!” Kiri, eyes also red rimmed. And Jake leaves them to it. Letting their laughter and screams of childish excitement fill the hole that was Spider in his heart.

i don’t know how the the whole spirit tree thing works😭😭, so cut me some slack.

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vacantgodling · 18 days

Text

i am (i killed your daughter)

mother’s day. transcription under the cut

i killed your daughter;

you say;

and i am reminded;

of;

the naive scene;

set thousands of years ago;

a mother cradling;

what will soon become dust;

and from those ashes;

reborn;

a savior;

yet;

did she grab his wrist;

and bid him stop;

beg him;

“recant!”;

the truth moistening;

parched lips;

caged behind;

bitter teeth;

“the truth is more valuable,

when you are alive to preach it”

did she pray;

he pretend;

to fit in;

like other children;

did she beg him to shrink;

for a moment;

hush;

her eldest was not;

the one who would bear;

the crown of agony;

round his dear head;

did she look him in his eyes;

and with tears;

say;

“this transition,

this path,

is far less worthy

of your suffering”

did she curse herself;

the first time he uttered;

“I AM”

i took your daughter;

he took her son;

yet;

she rejoiced;

and you spit;

embers in my face;

still;

i say;

“I AM”

#ren poems #tw transphobia #tw religious imagery #about renjamin #mother’s day

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darklydeliciousdesires · 9 months

Text

Lost & Found - Chapter Nine.

So then, my beautiful, wonderful audience. Those who are not new around these parts know that sometimes, treats are given in the form of a double update day with my stories, and guess what? Today is one of those days! I know you've all been waiting patiently for the sexual side of Emma and Guero's blossoming relationship to finally flower, so I thought I'd share it today in the next chapter! Has that made you smile? I hope it has! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Words - 3,434

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

The more she revealed, it seemed, the more comfortable she became with sharing memories of her nineteen years held prisoner. Guero lay there and let her recount it all, being exactly what she needed, somebody to simply listen.

“Marie taught me how to shoot.” He had wondered at how well she seemed to handle the Beretta she’d pointed at his head, her handling of the firearm steely and confident. “There were guns kept all over the house, so there’d always be one within easy reach, just in case. With whom Rocco was, he was a target, or rather his family were. He routinely pissed off other mob families, so of course anyone he cared for became a target, a weak point.

“She wanted me to be able to protect myself from such a threat, but mostly, if Rocco himself ever became so unhinged that I felt my life was in danger. “Shoot him dead, and we’ll figure it out somehow afterward”, is what she used to tell me. How we would have figured that out beyond running for our lives, I don’t know. His guys would have hunted us down.”

She paused for a moment, tears beginning to swim within her eyes. “I hate myself, for leaving her. Joey, Alessia and Mikey, too. I loved them so much, they were like my siblings for Christ’s sake! It’s a guilt that’ll never leave me, that I ran and they’re all still stuck there! She became my mother, and I abandoned her!”

“Hey, no,” he began, touching his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head. “You don’t have to feel guilty about a thing. I get that you miss her, she made the hell he put you through bearable where she could, but Marie chose that life, Emma. Nobody forced her.

“She knew who she was marrying, and I’m not saying that in the end she had an easy choice to get away from him, ‘cuz I can see from what you told me he’d have killed her for it, but you found a way out. You took your chance, and you got free. If she loves you as much as it seems she does, then she’ll be fucking happy as hell the girl she counted as one of her own got free of him.”

She absorbed his words, realising that no matter how unpleasant it felt, what he’d said was the plain, simple truth. If she didn’t assume her to be dead via Rocco’s hand, Marie would be quietly rejoicing her escape. “Is it wrong that I feel more of a maternal bond with her than I do my actual mom? I feel guilty for that, too. When I hear the word mom, I think of Marie, not Cassie.”

He shifted slightly beneath her, Emma moving a little as he turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm. “It might sound cold, but it’s fact. Marie was in your life longer than your birth mom. I kinda guess it’s only natural you’d think that. Doesn’t mean you love Cassie any less, or that you can’t reconnect with her now you’re free.”

“But, but,” she began, her throat swelling on a rising lump, “that’s the thing, there is no Cassie. When I was twenty-five, we sat and looked on the internet, I begged her to look up my family. I just wanted to know if they were okay. Mom died back in two thousand and thirteen from breast cancer. My dad, he passed away six years ago, motorbike accident. All I have left is Dylan, who is still in Spokane. My grandparents, too, unless anything happened in the interim.

“I’ll never see my mom and dad again, and I loathe him, I detest him completely that he robbed me of those years with them, that they both died not knowing what had happened to me! As if me being taken wasn’t bad enough. It left Dylan all alone, no immediate family, and it’s all because of him!”

She fell apart at that point, naturally so, sobbing against his chest as Guero held her. Again, he had no idea what to say to that, knowing it would take a man greater with words than he was to offer verbal comfort. Instead, he was just there, not knowing that truly that was all she needed from him, just someone to be there. It wasn’t about words. Listening was enough, as he continued to do, Emma sharing more with him about her life within the gilded cage prison that was the Lombardi mansion.

“He used to virtually pimp me out to his friends too at parties.” Once again, Guero felt his anger flare like a firecracker, grinding his teeth as his jaw tightened. “I always wanted to enjoy sex, but none of them ever made it feel good for me, all too consumed by their own pleasure to give a damn about mine. As long as they got to lie between the legs of a pretty, young blonde, that was good enough.

“There was only one of them who was different. His underboss, Vincent Calabrese never laid a hand on me. I was offered to him, and for appearances in front of Rocco and the others he always accepted, but once we got into the bedroom, he just sat down beside me on the bed and we talked. He said he wasn’t in the habit of defiling little girls, but even when I was over the age of consent, he still wouldn’t.

“He staunchly disagreed with what was being done, the child trafficking. ‘It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families’ is what he always used to say. He always opposed it, and Rocco knew that, but ultimately went along with what was being done for the sake of a quiet life, and I guess not ending up with a bullet between his eyes either. This leads me to something that you guys should all know, EZ especially.

“You’re running heroin for him now, but all that will change if Rocco has his way, and believe me, he will. You guys are in his pocket now, which means in his mind, he owns you. You’re all to do with as he pleases, and what he pleases is to start bringing children across the border. Undocumented migrants are much easier to move, and get away with moving, too. I overheard him talking about it, it was always a two birds with one stone deal for him. He’d get you used to the money first, and then tell you that your consignment would begin to include kids as well.”

Guero pushed himself up, his eyes rounding as he looked down at her. “For real, that motherfucker wants us in on trafficking kids?”

His horror at the very suggestion was telling over the person he was. Although still a criminal, he was a man with the kind of morals that had been few and far between in the world she had escaped from. “Eventually, yeah.”

“And if we refuse?” He didn’t need to ask, really. He could guess.

She made a gun motion against the side of her head, couple with a soft exclamation of ‘pow’. “He’d wipe you all out and move onto the next nearest charter, using your eradication as an example of what happens when people push back against him.”

The weight of the mafia. That was a war they definitely wouldn’t win, and he knew that for sure. Rocco Lombardi could crush them all, very easily, too. “I have to take that to EZ. Not now, of course, but at some point over the weekend, call a templo. Will you be okay to come and tell us what you know?”

She smiled, reaching to stroke his hair. “Of course, I will.”

They remained quiet for a time after, Emma needing the silence. Her legs remained in tangle with his as she reached for the tequila bottle, taking a long glug, the alcohol burning her throat. She felt a little drunk and numb, which was what she had needed in order to sit there and offload it all to another person. “There’s more I could tell you about my life, but right now, I feel drained. Like I need air, too. Can you give me a minute?”

“Yeah, take as long as you need.” He reached to stroke her face, Emma turning her head and kissing his palm, getting up and letting herself out of the front of the house. The cool air hit her, soothing to her frayed nerves, the residual effects of her revelation hanging onto her, though.

“Hey, boo.” Of course, Tyrone would notice her out there, always keeping the watch. She walked over to his window, her shoulders heavy, watching him emerge from behind the swathe of curtain fabric. “Damn, you look all sad and shit. Fuckboy bin’ actin’ up?”

She shook her head. “No, no he’s great. Listen, I know you deal, so I figure I’m in the right place. Can you sell me a joint? That’s all I want, just one.”

He looked entertained at the naivety of her question, that it was the norm for dealers to exchange such a small amount. Tyrone, for all of this mouth and uncouthness was kind, though. “I ain’t selling you shit, white girl. This is on me, hold on.”

She smiled. “Thank you, you’re great.”

He beamed, reaching to grab his rolling tray, locating one of his pre-rolled joints. “Ain’t I, though? I know fuckboy rarely smokes it, so just remember I gotchu if you ever need a lil’ hit.” The truth was, neither did she. She’d occasionally partook of it back in her old life, secretly taking from Rocco’s personal stash which he smoked to ease his chronic migraines. It helped her feel more relaxed in the utter brutal chaos of her life. It smelled and tasted awful, but she enjoyed the calming buzz.

Tyrone passed a joint and a lighter through the window. “Enjoy, boo.” She smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Aw, lawdy! I gotta kiss from a pretty girl, hell yeah!”

She laughed softly, shaking her head and lighting up, moving to sit on the front step of Guero’s side of the house, taking a long drag. God, that was some nice weed. She coughed a few times, the usual, barky rasp associated with smoking weed, her throat tickling.

“Yo!” She turned to see a large arm thrust through the window, a can of soda proffered forth. “If you don’t like mango then I can’t help you. Oh, hold up. I might have a Fanta somewhere.”

Walking back over, she took the can. “Thanks, Tyrone. You keep your Fanta, mango and I are good.” She moved back to the step, opening the soda and sipping it, the tickle clearing nicely before she took another little puff, looking out across the street into the darkness. The only sounds audible were that of the game Tyrone was playing, and the chirp of cicadas. It was somewhat relaxing in ambience.

The weed had an instant calming effect upon her, all of the brutality that would endlessly echo through her memories placated and pushed back again, back behind the fortress walls in her mind. She’d had to keep it there for years to have even had a chance of remaining sane through her ordeal. God, she couldn’t believe that she’d actually escaped it, found somebody who she could trust, someone who for all intents and purposes was slowly becoming all hers, too.

“As if you’re out here getting high on my front step. Not even I do that.” Turning, she saw Guero emerge from the house, moving to sit behind her, his legs flanking her body as he stretched.

“Well, that’s because you don’t smoke weed,” she chirped, watching him frown before plucking the joint from her.

He took a few puffs, handing it back, holding in a cough until the tickle passed. “I do, but not often. It has too much of an effect on me, and I can never get the balance right.”

“The balance between what?”

“Between a nice buzz and ragingly horny.”

“Ahh.” She nodded, looking entertained, the stoned giggled welling up within her. “I somehow don’t think you need any extra boosting in that department.”

He moved her hair, kissing the side of her neck. “A hundred percent correct, mamacita. And since I guess you’re probably drunker now than you were earlier, I’m not risking that balance any further, so you finish it. Kinda figure you need the sedation after everything you told me.”

“Oh, you’re not wrong there,” she spoke, eyes widening a little as she leaned back against him. “Even if I was sober, sharing all of that has kinda dampened my desire.”

He snorted softly, arms tightening around her. “Understandable. S’okay, I can wait.”

“Can you?” she giggled, the sound joining the noise of the cicadas.

“Mm.” he hummed, kissing her neck again. “Just.”

Just then, the curtains next door began moving, Tyrone’s boom sounding. “Goddamnit, will you two go back in that house and bust some furniture already? Shit!” They both snort laughed, Guero resting his forehead to her shoulder, Tyrone continuing. “You better sort yo’ damned mess, fuckboy! Because I am one pretty smile away from makin’ that fine assed lil’ honey mine, you hear?”

“Yeah, I hear,” he called through his laughter, “and I see, too. Plying her with weed and soda.”

“I know what the ladies like! If she’s still out here in a half hour, she gets the first slice of my pizza, too!”

“Exactly, you gotta give me a head start against your half ton of raw charm, dog,” he chuckled, Tyrone emerging further from the curtains.

“Hey, I might be a big fella, but I’m no fuckin’ half ton! I’m thick and juicy, drives the chicks wild!”

“Tyrone, you ain’t thick, my man. Your ass is so fat, if I swerved my bike to miss you, I’d run outta gas.” There was a pause, a squawking laugh emanating from the window, Emma thinking it hilarious a man with such a low, rumbling voice had a laugh so high in pitch. All banter with their hilarious neighbour aside, they remained outside until she had finished the joint, heading back in and returning to bed.

“Do you feel better for telling me everything?”

Resting her head against his chest, she nodded, her nails tracing the outline of one of the spiderweb tattoos that spread out across each of his shoulders. “I do, you know. Whether the nightmares will stop because of it, I don’t know. I think I might need further help to recover from it all. Kinda scared about registering with a doctor, though, putting my name back out there. He’ll be looking for me, and if he finds any record of a twenty-nine-year-old woman named Emma Louise Taylor anywhere, he’ll come for me.”

Her muscles stiffened at just the thought, Guero turning to wrap both arms around her, feeling her relax into his embrace after a few moments. “We’ll work something out.” She fell asleep in his arms, those early morning hours passing dreamlessly, neither waking until 10am the following morning.

Rising from her place curled against him, Emma rubbed her eyes, looking down at the chiselled tattoo canvas that had been her pillow. Her safe person, the kind of man she’d dreamed would one day save her from her fate, and there he was... snoring like a brontosaurus. She couldn’t help but giggle softly, thinking that was a part perhaps not strictly included in the romanticism of her fantasies.

He cracked an eye open, his grin widening. “What are you laughing at?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The noise! You snore like something hell spat up for being too loud.”

“I wasn’t snoring,” he began stretching, the other eye opening eventually. “I was doing mindful breathing.”

Immediately, she cracked up, leaning to place a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “There’s nothing mindful about those sawn logs.”

She had a point, he guessed, Guero turning onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah, but I’m cute. I get away with it, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, turning her head back to kiss him, “you do have that going for you.”

“And a whole lot more.”

Biting the corner of her lip, she shifted against him, a little wiggle that stirred him exactly where she intended him to be stirred. “Feel like showing me?”

“Mm.” His arms tightened around her, kisses scattered against the side of her neck. “I need coffee and a shower, then trust me, I’ll spend all morning showing you.”

Now that was a statement definitely on a par with her fantasies. He left the bed first, taking a shower, calling to her that he’d left in on for her as he made his way through to the kitchen. It was while she was under the warm water looking down at herself that a stab of panic prickled against her guts.

He’d see her naked. All of her.

While she had body confidence in her shape, the littering of scars that marked her sides and lower back made her feel ugly. Some had faded to white, but there were still a few dark pink markings that remained. All were raised scar tissue, triangular shapes of knife points pressed into her skin, the burning brand of a hot blade searing Rocco’s displeasure branded onto her skin forever.

As she dried off, her eyes found them again, wondering if they’d really be all too noticeable if the blinds remained drawn in the bedroom.

“Of course, they will," she muttered, beginning to sniff. All she wanted was to move on from it all, enjoy the basic human right of a consensual sexual relationship with another adult, someone of her actual choosing, yet the literal scars of the past held her back.

A soft tap sounded upon the partly open door. “Em, you want a coffee?”

Em. No one had ever called her that before. She liked it. “No, thank you.”

“You alright.”

“Yeah.”

Her pinched voice alluded to the contrary. “No, you’re not. Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Tightening the large, white bath towel around herself again, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, trying to compose her upset.

“So, people who are alright stand here crying, huh?” Him and his smart mouth. He was right in his light sarcasm, though. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Baby. He'd called her that back when he’d first found her. How different the intent behind the word was now. “The scars I have,” she began, gulping, hoping she could swallow down the lump she had painfully swelling in her throat. “You’ll see them, and they’re hideous. They make me ugly. You’ll think they look ugly.”

He frowned, lifting her chin with a gentle touch of his fingers as he began shaking his head. “I’ve never liked people making my mind up for me. That includes you, mamas.” His hands pressed softly on her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve got no problem with whatever scars you have, and I’m not gonna think you’re ugly because of ‘em. Only thing that is, is that low opinion you have of yourself. If you want, leave a t shirt on. I don’t mind. I’d prefer you naked, but whatever makes you comfortable, I’m good with.”

She could fetch a t shirt, or she could just be brave and let him see her. All of her. She’d bared her soul to him already, after all. Indecision made her heart quicken, the soft stroke of his fingertips at her upper arms soothing as she reached for the towel and untucked it, letting it fall. Fighting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she looked anywhere but him as he took in her nudity, her body tensing when he moved his hands to stroke the scars she detested so much with careful attention.

Leaning close, he kissed the side of her head, his lips soft against her ear. “They aren’t who you are, and you’re not any less beautiful. They’re only the map of the journey that finally led you to me.”

Her throat tightened with emotion, his words so beautiful, she wanted to cry. The desire in his eyes as she finally looked at him dictated it might be poorly timed, though. This was not a time for lament and sadness. No. This was the time to plant her lips upon his and let him carry her to the bedroom.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc #guero x ofc #guerl smut #mayans mc smut #mayans mc season 5 #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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saltyluminaryvoid · 1 year

Text

His Saving Grace

Chapter Two

1114 Klaus x future daughter reader

I recommend re-reading chapter one as I made some major changes. I know I promised this update two years ago, but university got in my way and when I came back to these old stories a lot of re-vamping took place.

Masterlist

The year is 2030, Y/N the daughter of Niklaus Mikaelson and Hayley Marshall. A powerful young witch which threatens the survival of Malivore. In retaliation Malivore unleashes a time fay to return to the past and kill Klaus to ensure his survival.Y/N is Hope’s younger twin, now that no one remembers who she is the job is left to y/n to stop Malivore.

“You still live in the silences between my thoughts.”

Y/N resisted the urge to sign impatiently as the crowds around her soared and rejoiced as the pastor preached. The loud voices screaming into her sensitive ears, highly agitating her short temperament. Y/N hated church, she was by no means an atheist but she was a witch and a woman living in a time where she could be hanged for simply defying authority. So with that in mind Y/N had begrudgingly entertained Alaric, to keep up the role as godly saints whom attended church every Sunday.

For the past weeks tempers were high within the household, Alaric and Davina could only watch as she battled silently with her demons. Putting up a saintly farce everyday in the village as boys swarmed for her hand in marriage and village girls scowled jealousy. As someone who was influenced by the strong women in her life, to always be true to ones self and to never shape shift into society's ideal, the pretense (and the besotted men) were killing her. Alaric was getting far too accustomed in his daily ritual of turning away marriage proposals from haughty mothers and corpse like men.

Pulling her away from her thoughts was the strain of her far too tightly, bonded corset. Thank the old gods she was from a thousand years into the future. Now Y/N realized why her Aunt Rebekah mostly if not always bit the heads off every man she met. If I had to suffer almost seven hundred years in such a tightly wounded corset which restricted most movements I would have done the same Y/N thought impatiently. As the preacher vivaciously expelled the devil with the crowd, Y/N reaching a breaking point silently casting a notice me not charm and made her way to the exit, silently huffing as she straightened her ankle length, grey dress which carried a turtleneck-like neckline. She wore a pristine, white shirt underneath whose sleeves puffed loosely around her arms but knotted tightly below her elbows. On top of her grey dress carried a loose brown corset of sorts held together by a length of ribbon criss-crossed. This corset did not converge in the middle, rather it showcased about five inches of the grey vertical striped pattern upon the bust and midriff as to emphasise her figure. Stitched upon her grey skirt was a length of brown which stopped at least six inches above her grey ankle length skirt, but it was gauged elegantly upon her right thigh allowing an elegant stylish slide flow. After all she was her Aunt’s niece and secretly she hoped it pissed off the conservatives in the crowd. Oh yeah! that speech about playing the part was not translating so well into her everyday life.

Finally reaching a safe distance, out of sight from zealous fanatics just upon the edge of the forest, she dropped the spell. Huffing a sigh of relief all Y/N now needed was a pack of cigarettes or some weed to make 1114 much more bearable.

“That’s quite the trick you pulled back there, little strega.” Now that snapped Y/N from her inner thoughts. Spinning around in a quite unlady like fashion, for this period at least, more than ready to confront the intruder. Only to be left dumbfounded to the stranger standing before her. But with a practiced ease which came from years of sneaking out and around the Salvatore Boarding School, Y/N layered on her oh so innocent Mikaelson charm. “I’m sorry, what did you just call me?, I have to say I’m not aware of that particular term!” Lies, her mind rang out. Play cool, Y/N thought, talk him up just to get close enough and wipe his memory. Now that particular trick was her favourite. The stranger smirked coyly at her, “I think you know exactly what I mean, liten heks.” Y/N paced herself now, he knew old norse. Whomever this stranger was, he was clearly quite wealthy at that judging by his smooth velvet and silks in comparison to her simple cotton dress. Now she had to thread carefully, wealth clearly meant high influence and political sway in a community as small as this one. And that meant possible exposure, this man was a threat, Y/N deemed carefully.

“Now, now liten heks, the stranger went on, I mean yours truly none harm.” My heart is void of ill contempt and malevolence for one with such great power and beauty. As he spoke he drew closer towards her, his face now completely unobstructed from the mist of the early morning. Y/N exhaled softly, the stranger a man’s whose face see had seen everyday in her New Orleans home, a demon who hunted her from birth, Finn Mikaelson. But if he was standing before her, that meant the brotherhood had not yet daggered the Mikaelsons. This younger and less vengeful ghost was still a threat to her but quite possibly an accomplice. The fae had yet to reveal itself it was either supplementing its diet with animals or news of children going missing had been covered up.

The fae according to the texts preferred a warm tropical climate, for if their wings were exposed to cold they would simply fall apart. A fae’s lifeline was linked to her wings, losing them could kill the fae but iron to the heart worked just as well. All in all, the upcoming winter was now days away and left no time for procrastination which meant Y/N directly disobeying Alaric to seek the creature out herself. A venture she had no luck in, the fae who boasted of powerful magics was able to cleverly keep herself hidden.

“Not one for much words I see.” Finn Mikaelson was now standing toe to toe with her. That’s quite alright, he continue as he played with a stray curl. Y/n flinched away slightly as he stared into her eyes, carefully examining the details of her face. “If I didn’t know better, I could have mistaken you for my Freya.” Finn whispered as he continued to tug upon her curl. It was low and if not for her keen hearing it would have been swept to the winds. Y/N kept her head high and passive, thinking to herself how much of a leering creep her elder uncle was becoming. Quite unlike all accounts of the uptight, wet blanket her uncle Kol always described. As his hand came up to caress her face, Y/N instinctively jumped back, conjuring fire within her palm which she kept safely tucked behind her. Finn only smiled sheepishly, “I seemed to have forgotten my manners, in the presence of a young lady.” I deeply apologise, I do not know what came over me, my lady.

Y/n relaxed slightly and utterly confused as the man introduced himself. As he began to speak on what not, Y/N could only stare at his face in a daze. It would take her some time to sort herself out, only to realize he had disappeared only to leave behind a simple envelope in her hand. Y/N thought back to the genuinely baffled daze Finn fell into as she made her way into town. To onlookers her face was almost dreamy, as if paying much more attention to the envelope she twirled in her hands rather than her path. But rather Y/N was silently contemplating the latent abilities of the fae and just how she could manipulate Finn into helping her.The fae a creature in the future known for its deceitful ways but that though made her wonder just how much accurate Alaric’s information truly was. It was done before, the supernatural popularized lies like silver bullets and garlic to throw suspicion off of them so what if the same was done with the fae? As Y/N ventured into the town’s market lost in her thoughts many eyes followed her, women and young girls gossiped of her weird behaviours and wayward thinking.

________________________________________________________________

Bloody hell, Y/N thought to herself. Now while the young witch prided herself on being a fashionista, dresses were her absolute nightmare, well behind her murderous grandparents and malivore of course. I do have my priorities in order, thank you very much.

Somehow Davina had managed to convince the stubbornest Mikaelson into another deathtrap these humans called corsets. Y/N huffed, begrudgingly following her “parents” out of their temporary home. While she was ecstatic to receive the dinner invite to the Mikaelson home hours prior from Finn which came in the form of the mysterious envelope he left behind, she still heavily detested that damn corset suffocating her. There was just no space to hide her knives!, What’s a girl in multiple skirts and a stuffy attire supposed to do to defend herself when all her knives were confiscated on this occasion.

But nevertheless Y/N compiled it only to see her family again while also plotting to defy Alaric once again on his no knives at the dinner table rule. I mean, its not really a family reunion if someone didn’t have a devious plan in the works.

________________________________________________________________

Servants scattered frantically to the sides, keeping their heads bowed as the feared Mikaelson hybrid descended the grand staircase stepping onto the foyer. Holding an impassive mask, Niklaus surveyed the immediate area ensuring the preparations to his liking. Stepping to the right of the grand foyer Niklaus strolled into the grand sitting room which doubled as a music room, the soft notes of the harp eased his twirling mind.

Taking a seat on a velvet cushioned armchair, with hands clasped elbows resting on his knees and eyes closed Niklaus thought back to the hauntingly familiar pup no he corrected himself, child. Days had passed since their first encounter and thoughts of the child haunted him. In the strangest of ways he craved her presence, but not in a way a lover does. But this vastly unfamiliar pull deep inside him yearning and pushing his self control. But if Niklaus didn’t know any better he would have called it fatherly love and as unbelievably usurp that idea sounded in his head, he couldn’t help but let his mind linger on the possibility. Barr the facial similarities and attitudes that crossed with his, perhaps it was her life that resonated with him he knew all too well the struggles of an abused orphan.

Just maybe when he meet her today, try not to give away how he always crept away at night to watch over her. By the old gods, what would Elijah think of his stalker like behaviour. If his enemies only knew of this attachment, if he only knew. Niklaus sat and wondered of the possibilities, so lost in his thoughts he nearly missed his guests arrival.

__________________________________________________________________

Dinner surprisingly went smoothly, Klaus was utterly entertained by the ideas and thoughts of the young woman before him. Her guardian agitated him deeply with his distrustful glances and cold demeanor.

Y/N on the other hand was on edge for an entirely different reason. As much as she wished to truly enjoy the rare company of her family, she could not help but be worried about the whereabouts of Finn. Given the strange behaviour she witnessed earlier from him and his sudden disappearance she could not help but ponder the worst, especially given the current circumstances. It could be entirely possible Finn had aligned himself with the fae in order to rid himself of Klaus and the others. As far as she recalled, Finn had never been too particularly fond of the vampiric lifestyle and it is certainly within his motives to fix the balance of nature and forever end the vampire lines.

The rest of the night in the company of the Mikaelsons continued smoothly, with the exception of Kol getting a little too drunk and flirting with Davina. Y/N was able to enjoy the company of her lively Aunt. Soon came the peak of the full moon and the makeshift family slipped away to trap the fae. As Davina gathered the necessary ingredients for a binding ritual and Alaric his iron weapons, Y/N shared her suspicions of Finn and him possibly knowing her true identity. Both had agreed that Finn would be a potential suspect in aiding and plotting with the fae to get rid of the Vampire Sire line, him included. With caution in mind, the trio made their way towards the woods where Y/N last spoke to Finn. Since, Finn was most likely aligned with fae, the two would track him using Y/N’s blood, a plan which quickly came to a stop when the magic revealed the family together in their manor.

Relief didn’t last as the winds picked up around the trio and both Y/N and Davina picked up the excited whispers of dead witches. The brotherhood so it seemed had finally succeeded in crafting the daggers it was only a matter of time before they used it. Huh, maybe it was her paranoia seeping in earlier and Finn was just too ashamed of his earlier behaviour to make an appearance at dinner.

@physically-a-cheesecake

@goldencassy

@sujusfs14499

@alyssatjuhhh

#the originals #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #Kol mikaelson #finn mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #hope mikaelson #hayley marshall #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x daughter reader #oc mikaelson #the vampire diaries #Legacies #alaric saltzman #davina claire #freya mikaelson

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startanewdream · 2 years

Text

For @hinnyfest prompt #3: Sirius' birthday (or we will just pretend he didn't die at OotP so I can explain this sort of HBP missing moment)

***

The Owlery was at the other side of the castle, something for which Harry had never felt more grateful. It provided him a very valid reason to escape for a few minutes—or rather a few hours if he could spare. That wasn't very noble of him, but between Hermione's cold heartbreaking and Ron's passionate snogs with Lavender, he needed a moment alone.

Only the moment he arrived at the Owlery — appreciating all the thirty minutes he extended for it — he realised his plans wouldn’t work for a very nice reason.

His heart raced in a way that had nothing to do with the stairs he had just climbed. Ginny's vivid red hair was shining under the morning sunlight, wisps of her hair floating with the wind, and Harry would be lying if he'd say she didn't look like a vision coming out of his dreams—in fact, just two nights ago, he'd dreamed they had flown together to the Astronomy Tower, a thousand stars above them, and when they landed, he'd kissed her longly, desperately—

Harry had woken up feeling strangely grateful that he did not take Astronomy classes anymore because he would never be able to explain why that class would turn him on so quickly.

All in all, his creative mind was just adapting the scenario easily enough to the Owlery when Hedwig flew directly to him to land on his shoulder. Somehow, Harry's mind had ignored the owls in his fantasies involving the Owlery.

"Hey, hey, I missed you too," he told Hedwig, very conscious that Ginny had turned to him.

“Hello,” she said, coming closer. Harry’s heart doubled its efforts in taking him to an early grave.

“Hi.” Two letters, one syllable, how did he manage to croak it in an unreasonable voice? “I didn’t expect to see you here.” There, a whole sentence, and a truthful one.

Ginny smiled; it seemed to light the whole room. Harry’s face burned as if he were too close to the sun.

“I was late to send Mum a letter—I’m a terrible person.”

“No, you are not,” he said at once.

She just shook her head. “I forgot my own mother’s birthday,” she whispered as if confessing a crime. “Between Quidditch this week and all the stress for the OWL’s, it just slipped my mind—but I’m only mentioning the stress for the exams, of course.”

He laughed, some tension easing from his shoulders, rejoicing in how at ease he felt around Ginny. Hedwig hooted with the movement, leaving his shoulder for the top of the nearest cage.

“You could blame me—the awful captain that’s making you work so much that you don’t have time for anything else.”

“Oh, I should have!” She threw him a mischievous grin that made Harry bite his tongue to keep from sighing. “Mum could never stay mad at you. Rather, Mum would have told me I need to practice more so I could be up to your standards.”

“That would be unfair—you are amazing.” Ginny blinked. Harry rushed to add: “I mean, last game—amazing Quidditch player, and the way you just made Smith eat his words—”

“Mum definitely would not appreciate this,” said Ginny, and Harry was strangely disappointed to see she still looked at ease, not picking his hidden feelings. “And what made you run here this morning?”

“Run?”

“Yeah, your face is all red.” Her gaze swept over his face, which did not help with the colour. “Have you run here all the way from the Common Room?”

He swallowed slowly. “Something like that.”

“That’s how you stay so fit?” She winked playfully, moving closer to Hedwig now to pet the owl. Hedwig hooted happily, a sound that Harry almost copied.

“You think I’m fit?”

Ginny gave him a funny look. “Are you that oblivious to the looks you are getting this year?”

“I am not—Looks?”

“You need a new prescription for your glasses,” she suggested.

“I’m seeing just fine,” mumbled Harry.

Ginny opened her mouth, but she gave up whatever she was going to say when Hedwig bit her finger gently. “Hey, she’s waiting.”

“Oh, right.” Harry waited for a moment but Ginny didn’t move away. He approached Hedwig, very conscious that his arms were brushing against Ginny’s shoulder as she resumed her caress on Hedwig, her fingers soft over the wings; for a brief, crazy moment, Harry suddenly wished that he were an owl—was it too late to become an Animagus…? “I’m sending a gift for Sirius,” he said, hoping for some coherence. Ginny’s perfume was far nicer than any smell in the Owlery. “It’s his birthday.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I will send him a letter later!” Ginny was beaming, he knew, but Harry focused on attaching the package on Hedwig; his heart was beating so loudly that he didn’t know how she couldn’t be hearing it.

“You are a better godson than I am a daughter," she joked. "What did you get him?”

“What?”

“For his birthday.”

“Oh.” His mind was having a hard time figuring out anything but the fact that they were very close. For all Ginny had said his face was red, he felt that her body was burning. “A gift.”

“That’s what usually one gets on their birthday.” Her voice was teasing still; Harry smiled back without controlling it. Hedwig was ready to depart, only Harry felt that the only way for him to remain coherent was to keep busy with the owl—she is Ron’s sister, she has a boyfriend, we are just friends, almost like brother and sister, only none of his feelings were brotherly at all or cared to whoever she was related to—”Oh, I get it.”

“You do?” He asked urgently, turning to her at last. Ginny’s brown eyes were warm and bright; Hedwig hooted and flew away, but Harry barely noticed it.

“It’s a secret.”

He inhaled; her perfume was wonderful. “Maybe I can share it."

“Then it wouldn’t be a secret.”

“We can keep it between us, just us.” His gaze fell to her lips for a tiny moment; they looked so soft. “Ginny, I—”

The door of the Owlery opened. Harry leapt back, for a moment imagining Ron showing up with a beater’s bat on his hands, but it wasn’t him; it was Cho Chang, which Harry thought was slightly better, but not by much.

“Oh,” he said, at the same time that Cho said it. She looked flustered; there was a package on her hand but she looked back as if considering just fleeing the scene. “Er—hi.”

Ginny glanced between Harry and Cho, then took a step ahead. “Hi, Cho,” she said calmly. “I’m just leaving, don’t mind me.”

“I’m coming too,” Harry said hurriedly. He followed Ginny, trying to avoid looking in Cho’s direction. A relieved sigh escaped his lips when the door of the Owlery closed behind them.

Ginny didn’t look back until they reached the end of the stairs; they were alone in the hall, but this time Harry’s mind didn’t create any scenario. Ginny’s smile was gone, replaced by an annoyed frown.

“You didn’t need to come with me,” she said.

Harry blinked. “What?”

“If you wanted to talk to Cho—”

“I didn’t.” He fidgeted with his hands. “Things are awkward between us—if anything, I’m glad to have an excuse to just go away.”

“Oh, I thought—you seemed glad to see her, that’s all.”

“No, not really, I just—I just figured it could be someone worse.”

“Like my brother,” Ginny said, making Harry’s heart skip a beat. He opened his mouth, unsure, but Ginny added, oblivious to him: “Imagine him and Lavender coming to snog in the Owlery.”

Harry breathed again. “I would rather not.”

“Me neither, who wants to snog in the Owlery? Not very romantic.”

“No,” agreed Harry even as a part of his mind conjured the image of him pressing Ginny against the rounded wall of the Owlery, owls flying around them like angels giving them a blessing. He shook his head; Ginny was glancing at him, eyes slightly narrowed, thoughtful.

After a moment, during which she seemed to debate something with herself, she said: “You are really over your feelings for Cho.” There was a smile at the corner of her lips. “That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah. You should be with someone who makes you flush for a good reason, not because you are too nervous around them. Well, keep your eyes open.”

“For what?”

“All those who think you are fit, remember?” She patted him lightly on the shoulder, walking ahead.

Harry watched her figure for a moment, sighing quietly. Then he ran to join her. “I’m seeing very well,” he whispered, but he didn’t know if Ginny had heard him.

#hinnyfest #hinny fanfic #hinny #prompt 3: Sirius' birthday #I may have cheated a bit but the date just added so perfectly

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andreal831 · 9 months

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Elijah the enabler

I came across many posts of Elijah and Klaus’ potential suffering in afterlife.

Which is immensely interesting.

TVDU’ afterlife doesn’t make sense, and is left for interpretation.

Going to a deeper Analysis of Elijah- he was an enabler of Klaus. All Elijah ever did was endorse and provoke him.

Explains more of why Elijah hates himself so much. He knows he’s the reason of Klaus’ behaviors from the start. Ex. Wanting to kill Lucien, Klaus held a vote - showing democracy instead of Klaus’ mafia family he created. Elijah wanted to kill Lucien. Making Elijah more willing to Kill out of all his siblings,not for food but because he can. Elijah’s known for lying to himself about “always and forever “ so, Elijah saying it was for Vampiric survival. They were immortal and the world hadn’t become so globalized and interconnected yet, so the fear of witches and their father was probably just an excuse. Lucien was alone, a guy they could’ve compelled not to tell, wouldn’t have told. He wouldn’t even been suspected. As long as the Mikaelsons didn’t too close with Lucien.

Elijah also likes to fix, could Klaus be a mistake of his? And why do you think he likes to fix ? Klaus likes painting because of control,Anakin from star-wars also likes to fix because of control.

If both Elijah and Klaus did go to hell, what do you think they’d be in for ? Hayley found peace and she was a killer , so the bar is low. Mass murder isn’t the reason. Elijah’s selfishness was providing for his family. But he also hated himself, so a self hating selfish guy is where I’m at right now.

I’m not trying to blame Elijah for Klaus being a bad person or the rest of the Mikaelsons’ ,I just came ask what Elijah would be in for.

This a long ask but I'm going to try and answer it as best as I can!

I personally think it's hypocritical that Elijah is often called an enabler by the fandom, but none of the other Mikaelsons are. Yes, Klaus was a monster for a thousand years and Elijah doesn't do much to stop it. We see him attempt to temper Klaus' bloodlust, mostly to avoid being found by Mikael. However, we see Kol and Rebekah actually participate in these acts more than we see Elijah, yet they are rarely called enablers. Sure, Elijah could have done more, and should have, but so should everyone.

I don't really remember any times when Elijah did something to 'provoke' Klaus. Besides falling in love or caring for people outside of Klaus, but that's just shifting the blame to the victim of Klaus' abuse rather than holding Klaus accountable.

I do think Elijah blames himself for not guiding his siblings better and for helping contain Klaus' werewolf side. But again, blaming Elijah just shifts the accountability from Klaus, the one actually doing the bad deeds. Klaus' sob story about losing his werewolf side would have been more compelling if they had shown him actually care about it at any point. To me, it always just looked like he wanted the power of a hybrid so he could be the strongest creature, even over his own siblings. But he never tried to be a part of a pack or even transform after he unlocked it. Klaus used it as an excuse to be a monster and blame Elijah for his actions.

As for Lucien, Elijah knew they had to keep their curse a secret. As we saw with the Hunters, news traveled pretty quickly even back then. Elijah has always had to make the hard decisions to protect his family. We see this as a theme throughout the show and flashbacks. I wouldn't really say the others were less likely to kill since they all murdered an entire family moments before that. Kol even rejoiced in it and Rebekah wanted to keep Lucien as a present. We also hear from Lucien that "monsters" are murdering villagers and Elijah gets upset with his siblings for being so careless, so I don't believe their father was an excuse. Mikael less than a year before this had murdered their entire time and, as they believed at the time, murdered their mother. They also didn't know how to compel yet. Elijah was always the practical sibling, kill one more human to save all of his siblings, and he wouldn't hesitate.

But later, even after becoming friends with Lucien, Klaus was ready to kill Lucien even under a perceived threat. In fact, Elijah stopped him twice (probably a mistake #ripCami). I wouldn't say Elijah was more willing to kill, but rather more practical about his killing. Klaus had no issue murdering anyone (#ripEsther #ripJenna #ripTim #ripCarol #ripIsobel #ripDozensofHybrids #ripPetrovaFamily #ripRandomWomenWhoHadACough). We don't really see Elijah kill unless his family is threatened, but yes, if he perceives a threat against his family, he doesn't hesitate. I'm not saying this is a good thing, but to me, it's at least more noble than killing for power or out of annoyance/boredom.

I'm not sure what you mean about Elijah lying about "always and forever." I assume it's the normal rhetoric about him not holding it for all of his siblings. But the vow was just between Rebekah, him, and Klaus. As a sibling myself, siblings have ones who they are closer to. Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus always had a closer relationship. After their mother's death, Finn and Kol ran off, leaving them to grieve on their own. And in that grief, they made their vow. No, it wasn't perfect, but Elijah honored it until he died by his brother's side a thousand years later.

Elijah is often criticized for wanting to "fix" Klaus but is also called an enabler. He honestly can't do both. Either he enabled the bad behavior or he was trying to "fix" Klaus from becoming a monster. Elijah watched his siblings lose themselves to bloodlust and hated that he couldn't guide them better (even though that was not his job). Essentially, to the fandom, Elijah can do nothing right. Which is funny because, to the fandom, Klaus can do no wrong. Elijah becomes the scapegoat so people can continue to love a deeply flawed, narcissistic man. Elijah wanted his brother to have redemption. He feared for his brother's soul to the point he damned his soul over and over again to give his brother a chance at redemption. It was never about controlling Klaus, otherwise, he would have pulled rank on him more. It was about reminding Klaus who he was at his core/when he was human.

I don't think TVDU afterlife is how we view it in most modern interpretations. It's not good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell. We see there is some kind of "purgatory" and then "peace," nothing else after Bonnie destroyed Hell and the otherside was destroyed. No, I don't think there was anything Elijah or Klaus (or any of the Mikaelsons) could have done to go to our idea of heaven after everything bad they've done. But my interpretation of TVDU peace, is that it is more of an inner peace. I think Elijah would have had a harder time finding that peace because he did hold himself responsible for his actions whereas Klaus was able to justify a lot of his wrongdoings.

I know in Legacies, it's mentioned that Klaus can't find peace until Hope does (which is super manipulative and terrible of the writers). But it does sort of fit my theory. Klaus didn't regret any death and destruction he caused, but I think he did regret dying and leaving his daughter on her own (because let's face it, it was selfish). So Klaus could find peace once Hope found happiness and he no longer felt guilty for leaving her. Elijah would have a lot more to work through. He has felt guilt for every life, every betrayal, every wrong he has done. But I do think eventually he would be able to get there. He would be able to find inner peace and come to terms with what he's done.

I hope I fully answered your question! Thanks for asking <3

#tvdu #the originals #the mikaelsons #the vampire diaries #tvd #elijah mikealson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #peace

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inconcordia · 27 days

Text

This voiceline also haunts me.

The Odes of Harmony:

The world is in harmony and the stars shine bright. Praise the Lord! All are connected and the winds of blessing breathe across the lands! O, Mother of myriad households, kingdoms, and realms! Your mighty arm dissolves enmity, guiding the lost towards penitence's path. Into your realm, the virtuous find solace, peace bestowed, sorrows and strife released. We serve the Harmonic Strings due to the blessings of the god, and the Harmonic Strings play music to honor the Great One. In Harmony's embrace, all plagues disperse, eternal praises resound across the earth! Your myriad forms grant salvation, grace descending with each dawn! Heaven and earth rejoice as one. The universe gleams in your radiant presence. Your pristine blessings fill the universe! All beings entwined in blissful Harmony, sharing that happiness and joy, basked in the sweet rain of your divine love! O, Lord of myriad hearts, minds, and souls! Your sacred decree resonates, discord banished, the affluent urged towards generosity. Barren lands transformed into boundless havens***, the houses swell in wealthy, an endless expanse of your grace. We serve the Harmonic Strings due to the blessings of the god, and the Harmonic Strings play music to honor the Great One. Harmony's grace, hearts and minds entwine, all voices sing as one! Amidst endless darkness you radiate. outshines all the stars in the heavens!

So this is what Gallagher thinks of when he sees Sunday? Also considering Sunday's behavior is "benevolent/good" on a surface level and Gallagher calls it a "facade", I think it's fair to assume that whatever he saw beneath that was less good. Or!! Or not as loyal to Xipe. However I find that less likely, considering he gave us a fiery speech about executing THEIR vengeance or whatever and then giggled to himself after Sparkle left.

*** I will stick with my Matrix theory for now. All of Penacony is a lie or somehow the Harmony & memoria made it what it is. Something terrible either happened or is still happening but instead there's this dream world - perhaps even outside the Dreamscape. I don't know what I'm saying but this and the trailer today are interesting glimpses into something. [I also need to know if that war that's been hinted at in the trailer happened on Penacony or somewhere else. But I understood that Robin and Sunday are FROM Penacony, so it would.. have to be.]

Ad Harmonic Strings:

I'm assuming Robin and Sunday have a higher scale since her position/ability seems highly valuable for the Family and he is the current head of the Oak Family.

The chosen one responsible for conducting The Family's ritual during that time and harmonizing the varied sounds is known as the tuner.

Considering Sunday is planning the Charmony festival that could be him, or it is Robin, seeing as she is the one who sings. However:

Opposers of Harmony argue that the Harmonic Strings are nothing short of the Emanators of Xipe — These do not follow any specific mortal but are facets of Xipe, and can assume the form of any Family member when necessary.

Interesting? :) (Is someone not who we think they are?)

The thousands of tiny ropes come together to form a united string, welcoming the Embodiment of Harmony to manifest on the mortal plane and give blessings.

So is the Charmony festival in essence a summoning ritual for Xipe?

Thoughts, I have them.

#( out of charmony. )#( headcanon. )#( meta. )

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valkyrie-of-the-rising-sun · 26 days

Text

Electra, the Lost Warrior

>>> Basic Info Name: Electra Alias: Gallant (by Marianette) Species: Human (Garufan) Magic: Steel, Time Specialty: Dragon/Steel Host: Aevia Age: 17 (physical) Gender: Female Pronouns: she/her Birthday: May 19 Height: 5'8" Attribute: Resolve Trainer Class: Lost Warrior

>>> Gallery

>>> Backstory

TW: Human experimentation, exploitation, terminal illness, murder, amnesia, loss of sanity

Electra was a citizen of Eclysia in the era of the Old World. She was as happy and normal as you can imagine: loving parents, popular in school and surrounded by friends, her family well-off enough to live comfortably. She had her life all on track, and her future was bright. What more could a girl even ask for?

That is, until humanity declared war on Arceus and his followers, the Aura Wielders. The war raged on for months, ravaging the entire continent and leaving it in ruins, until humanity just barely scraped a victory by constructing an ultimate weapon using the remains of a Legendary Pokemon - one said to be on par with Arceus itself - and slew their god with it, ending the war once and for all.

What remained of Arceus's forces retreated, taking with them the golden arch that the god had left behind after its annihilation, and went into hiding. Humanity won, and they all rejoiced... or so they thought. It did not take long for them to realise that their victory was short-lived, when strange phenomena began to occur throughout the land.

The winds no longer blew. Rain and snow no longer fell. The seas stilled. The sun no longer shone. And the earth turned barren. But what was most alarming, was that Pokemon were disappearing, reduced to the same black particles Arceus did in its dying moments in front of their very eyes and it was clear humanity would be the next to suffer this grim fate.

Electra's family, like countless others, suffered immensely from this cruel war. They went from living comfortably in relative luxury, to having to starve and beg for scraps in debris just to survive. Things grew even more dire when her mother fell terribly ill one day, desperately needing medical treatment if she were to recover from it.

Out of desperation, Electra signed herself up for Garufa Inc.'s volunteer program, hoping to get the medical benefits and money she would receive as a volunteer for her mother. She had no idea just what would happen to her, but what she experienced went beyond her expectations.

For her short time as a volunteer, Electra was subject to countless cruel experiments as a host for the Archetype. And through being its vessel, she eventually gained the attributes of the Legendary Pokemon Dialga, although she was unable to display it for long periods of time. Regardless, she was thought to held promise despite being marked off as a failed vessel, and so upon her inevitable death by Genesis Syndrome, her soul was harvested and stored away to be repurposed for the Interceptor Program.

Thousands of years later, after Reset Zero had erased the Old World and built the new world over its ruins, Electra was revived as the Interceptor, taking the place of Aevia. However, being in stasis as a disembodied soul for so long had taken its toll on her, causing to lose most of her memories except for vague recollections of her old happy life in the Old World before the war happened.

Driven by these fragments of her old memories, she journeyed to find out the truth on why she was put here on Aevium, and to find a way back home. Of course, she eventually would find the truth of the Old World, and the discovery sent her off the edge so much that it drove her made from despair and grief. That was when she went down on the path of oblivion and never looked back, grasping onto the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, that if she destroyed the new world, there could be a chance that the Old World would return and she could be reunited with her family again.

And to that end, Electra used her privilege as the Interceptor to craft tools and equipment to aid her. The first being the Red Chain, that she used to subdue Spacea and Tiempa, weakening them before killing them and taking their Cores with some (unwanted) assistance from M2. Upon absorbing the Diamond Core, she gained the full powers of a Dialga, allowing her to not only manipulate time freely but also temporarily gain the form of a Dialga in battle.

The second being a killing spell, one that would permanently erase a soul from existence... but not remove other people's memories of them. This spell would later serve as the prototype for "End of Night", after it was further refined and perfected using combat data collected from the Gauntlet of Sorrow.

Either way, she was successful in her endeavours... but failed to consider that the destruction of the new world also meant her own destruction. So in the end, all her efforts were for naught, and she ultimately faded away into oblivion. And after her demise, Karma activated its protocol and rebooted the Core, resetting the world back to its original state and awaiting a new Interceptor - a new Player - to enter the script.

#renegade oc: electra

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themiscyreian · 5 months

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The Voice of the Janya

And the voice of the Janya was like to the rushing of a thousand waters. And she spoke, saying: Be not afraid, for a new light is dawning over the world. Be not afraid, but approach no further, for if you cannot look on me, how should you look upon my Lady, whose handmaiden I am? And her voice grew gentle, like the wind among the icicles, and sweet beyond all telling. And she spoke, saying: This night shall a Child be born that shall be the Daughter of Light and the Princess of all the world. A Child is coming that shall carry the Light of Dea into every part of creation, even to the most desolate of the places of darkness. Rejoice, poor wanderers of the earth and exiles from the house of your Mother, for to you shall come a guide and a deliverer. And when the voice of the Janya ceased, a silence fell that was the first true silence since the beginning of the world, and the last that shall be until it end.

Mythos 2:7-13

#deanism #filianism #déanism #deanic holidays #goddess religion #winter solstice

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thepastisalreadywritten · 5 months

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COPENHAGEN, Denmark (AP) — Denmark’s prime minister proclaimed Frederik X as king on Sunday after his mother Queen Margrethe II formally signed her abdication, with massive crowds turning out to rejoice in the throne passing from a beloved monarch to her popular son.

Margrethe, 83, is the first Danish monarch to voluntarily relinquish the throne in nearly 900 years.

Many thousands of people gathered outside the palace where the royal succession was taking place, the mood jubilant as the Nordic nation experienced its first royal succession in more than a half-century, and one not caused by the death of a monarch.

Wearing a magenta outfit, Margrethe signed her abdication during a meeting with the Danish Cabinet at the Christiansborg Palace, a vast complex in Copenhagen that houses the Royal Reception Rooms and Royal Stables as well as the Danish Parliament, the prime minister’s office, and the Supreme Court.

Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen next proclaimed Frederik king from the balcony of the palace before thousands of people — subjects of a kingdom where the trappings of royalty are mostly symbolic in today’s modern era of constitutional democracy.

Frederiksen read the proclamation three times, which is the tradition, as Frederik stood beside her wearing a ceremonial military uniform adorned with medals.

He was then joined on the balcony by new Queen Mary and the couple’s four children, and the crowd spontaneously sang the national anthem.

“My hope is to become a unifying king of tomorrow,” Frederik said. “It is a task I have approached all my life.”

“I want to return the trust I meet. I need trust from my beloved wife, you and that which is greater than us,” the new king said.

Frederik then kissed Mary and another great cheer rose from the crowd.

The abdication document was earlier presented to Margrethe as she sat at a massive table covered in red cloth around which royals and members of the Danish government were seated.

Frederik sat beside her.

After signing it, Margrethe rose and gestured to Frederik to take her place.

“God save the king,” she said as she left the room.

The abdication leaves Denmark with two queens: Margrethe keeps her title, while Frederik’s Australian-born wife becomes Queen Mary.

Frederik and Mary’s eldest son Christian, 18, has become crown prince and heir to the throne.

Christian handed Margrethe her walking stick as she departed from her abdication ceremony.

Citing health issues, Margrethe announced on New Year’s Eve that she would step down, stunning a nation that had expected her to live out her days on the throne, as is tradition in the Danish monarchy.

Margrethe underwent major back surgery last February and didn’t return to work until April.

Even the prime minister was unaware of the queen’s intentions until right before the announcement.

Margrethe had informed Frederik and his younger brother Joachim just three days earlier, the Berlingske newspaper wrote, citing the royal palace.

People from across Denmark gathered outside parliament, with many swarming streets decorated with red-and-white Danish flags.

Several shops hung photos of Margrethe and Frederik, while city buses were adorned with smaller Danish flags as is customary during royal events.

Many others across the kingdom of nearly 6 million people followed a live television broadcast of the historic event.

The royal guards’ music band made their daily parade through downtown Copenhagen, but wore red jackets, instead of their usual black, to mark major events.

Copenhagen resident Rene Jensen, wearing a replica of a royal robe and a bejeweled purple crown on his head, said that he expected Frederik to be “a king for the nation, representing us everywhere.”

The last time a Danish monarch voluntarily resigned was in 1146, when King Erik III Lam stepped down to enter a monastery.

Margrethe abdicated on the same day of January that she ascended the throne following the death of her father, King Frederik IX, on 14 January 1972.

Denmark’s monarchy traces its origins to 10th-century Viking king Gorm the Old, making it the oldest in Europe and one of the oldest in the world.

Today, the royal family’s duties are largely ceremonial.

Australians also turned out on the streets of Copenhagen to celebrate one of their own becoming queen.

“I think it’s good that she’s not from royalty and has a normal Australian background. We can relate more to that, because she’s from a middle-class background, and we are too,” said Judy Langtree, who made the long journey from Brisbane with her daughter to witness the royal event.

A survey — commissioned by Denmark’s public broadcaster DR — published Friday showed that 79% of the 1,037 people polled by the Epinion polling institute said that they believed Frederik was prepared to take the reigns and 83% said they thought his wife Mary was ready to become queen.

The survey margin of error was 3 percentage points, DR said.

#Frederik X #Queen Margrethe II #Christiansborg Palace #Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen #King Erik III Lam #King Frederik IX #Gorm the Old #DR #AP #Danish Royal Family #House of Glücksburg #Denmark #Frederik André Henrik Christian

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straydogscollective04 · 2 months

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Loki was irritated. She glared at Thor from her spot next to him.

“Fates above, Thor, shut up. You're doing nothing but irritating our guest.” Loki sighed, near snarling, but reigned in her emotions in wicked time.

Laufey sat at the other end of the table, visibly angry. Thor was just boasting about how many foes he had subdued on Midgard, and it was clearly not helping.

“My apologies, your highness, for my oaf of a brother. Would you like a sweet tart? They're remarkable. We can discuss the peace treaty now, if you'd like.” Loki shot Thor a look of ‘sit down and quiet,’ perfected from thousands of years of use.

“What I wish to know is why you disrespect me in such a manner.” Laufey started, a snarl forming.

Loki, taken aback, sputtered, “I- I'm sorry? I don't understand, can you explain?”

“Your horns. They are disrespectful. An imitation of me, my line, and my people, a degrading one at that! How dare you!” Laufey exclaimed, hand waving about.

“My- My apologies, your highness, I did not- I did not mean for any disrespect to be displayed, I, uh, I will take them off immediately and continue this without them, my deepest apologies.” Loki stuttered, waving away her horns, suddenly feeling bare and unclothed without her horns.

“Thank you.” Laufey huffed. The peace meeting continued without a hitch, Loki's phantom tail swishing side to side as she pondered.

Finally, a break came along, and Loki was able to run off. She could breathe.

Since Odin died, she, Thor, and Frigga had been in charge of running Asgard. And it was tiring most days.

Loki stood on the inside of a pillar, out of sight of the large doors. She leaned on the great pillar of granite, hand on her chest, breathing.

“Are you alright?” Laufey asked from behind her. Loki jumped.

“I- I'm sorry- I'll just- I'm fine-” Loki breathed, hand trembling.

“I apologize for my outburst. It was…abrasive and rude of me.” Laufey apologized, looking genuine. Laufey started to reach to put a hand on Loki's shoulder, as she jerked away, panic settling in Loki's eye.

“No need to worry, we only frostburn when we want to. You won't be hurt, I swear upon it.” Laufey informed. Loki wanted to cry out that it wasn't because of frostburn, but she remained silent. Laufey's hand touched her shoulder, a cool sensation spreading from the spot. Loki kept her eyes down, tears forming, tense.

Laufey drew a breath. Loki willed her hair longer, to hide her face. But Laufey tilted her head up, brushing away her hair.

“You-” Laufey started. Loki turned away, pulling her chin from the elder's grip.

“I apologize for the disrespect-” she started, but was cut off.

“It was not disrespectful, I see that now. You were imitating your true form, child.” Laufey comforted, not unlike a mother.

Loki hissed, how dare Laufey try to comfort. Laufey blinked, hand going to cup the back of her head, “it's okay. child, do you know of your lineage?”

Loki shook her head, not fighting anymore, exhausted.

“I figured not. Odin is a bastard. He is the one that stole you, right? He stole you from your true family. From your bloodline. From your mother.” Laufey seethed. Loki flinched minorly from the anger, but the hand behind her head never became cruel, it remained soft, caring. Loki's small, watery eyes met Laufey's as she gasped for breath.

“Your family thought you dead, child. Your mother heartbroken.” Laufey started. Laufey's eyes seemed to water, hand moving from head to cheek, “But you're alive, your family will rejoice, child. Please, let me bring you to them, my child.”

Loki's heart stuttered, she- Laufey- “wh-what-”

Laufey laughed, tears streaming, “I am your mother, Loki. Let me bring you to your family, show them you're alive.”

Loki sniffled, thinking. Then she nodded.

#loki laufeyson #live laugh love laufey #thor #fanfic #avengers #this is part of a whole story #this is a oneshot #actual happiness after sadness

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 5 months

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31st December >> Mass Readings (USA)

The Holy Family

(Liturgical Colour: White: B (2))

Either:

First Reading Genesis 15:1–6; 21:1–3 Your own issue shall be your heir.

The word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, saying:

“Fear not, Abram! I am your shield; I will make your reward very great.”

But Abram said, “O Lord GOD, what good will your gifts be, if I keep on being childless and have as my heir the steward of my house, Eliezer?” Abram continued, “See, you have given me no offspring, and so one of my servants will be my heir.” Then the word of the LORD came to him: “No, that one shall not be your heir; your own issue shall be your heir.” The Lord took Abram outside and said, “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so,” he added, “shall your descendants be.” Abram put his faith in the LORD, who credited it to him as an act of righteousness. The LORD took note of Sarah as he had said he would; he did for her as he had promised. Sarah became pregnant and bore Abraham a son in his old age, at the set time that God had stated. Abraham gave the name Isaac to this son of his whom Sarah bore him.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

First Reading Sirach 3:2–6, 12–14 Those who fear the Lord honor their parents.

God sets a father in honor over his children; a mother’s authority he confirms over her sons. Whoever honors his father atones for sins, and preserves himself from them. When he prays, he is heard; he stores up riches who reveres his mother. Whoever honors his father is gladdened by children, and, when he prays, is heard. Whoever reveres his father will live a long life; he who obeys his father brings comfort to his mother.

My son, take care of your father when he is old; grieve him not as long as he lives. Even if his mind fail, be considerate of him; revile him not all the days of his life; kindness to a father will not be forgotten, firmly planted against the debt of your sins —a house raised in justice to you.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Either:

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 105:1–2, 3–4, 5–6, 8–9