#i really hope this doesn't sound self-righteous
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Enchantress
Reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.
Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.
Word count: 8.1k
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By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?
There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.
You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.
Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.
It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.
In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.
But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.
The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....
The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.
"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.
"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...
"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.
"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.
"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....
You were going to fucking kill him.
"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.
"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.
Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.
"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.
You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...
"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.
"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.
"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.
"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"
"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.
A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.
To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.
How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.
No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.
"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.
"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...
"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.
"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.
"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"
"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."
Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.
At a certain point he was bound to get cut.
To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.
Ser Tyrin Lannister...
A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.
And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.
Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.
Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.
"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.
Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....
"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....
To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.
Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.
In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.
He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.
If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.
Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.
It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.
All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.
They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.
〄
"You are intoxicating...."
You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?
How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.
"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.
All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....
Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.
There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.
Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.
"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.
What had you done?
You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.
Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.
No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.
Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.
〄
"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.
"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.
"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.
"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.
"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.
"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.
"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.
"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...
A whore....
He thought that you were a whore......
Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...
Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.
"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.
"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.
"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.
"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.
"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"
It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.
He doesn't think you're good enough...
I don't think you're good enough...
He doesn't think you're good enough...
We don't think you're good enough...
It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...
It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.
"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.
Be strong....
"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...
"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.
He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.
"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.
"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.
"No..."
You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.
"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?
"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.
"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.
"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.
"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.
"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.
"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.
"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."
"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.
"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.
"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.
"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.
"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.
"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.
"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.
"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.
"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.
"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.
"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.
"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...
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Autho's Note:
Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.
- Armoni
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond imagine#aemond one eye#aemond scenario#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen fluff#prince aemond#aemond fluff#aemond the kinslayer#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#aemond angst#aemond and alys#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen scenarios#aemond x you#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#helaena targaryen#alys rivers#hotd aemond#house of the dragon aemond#house of the dragon#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#hotd fanfic
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Hey there, I have a question.
First off, I used to self h«rm a lot and attempted suic!de multiple times. When I finally decided to talk to the social worker at my very Christian school, the first and only thing she told me was that what I did was a sin, and that I had no right to do it, since my body only belongs to God. Don’t get me wrong, I’m Christian too, but what she told me really damaged my faith. When I told her that I am bisexual (that wasn’t the main topic, it just came up), she told me that for that, I deserve to be kille?, and that it would’ve been better if my attempts had succeeded.
I tried dot educate myself on the topic of suic¿de in the Bible, but I couldn’t really keep doing that since it only triggered me and I couldn’t keep doing it. But I feel like you really know about the Bible, and so I wanted to ask what you know about that topic.
If you don’t want to answer this, that’s completely fine, I can understand it‘s a sensible topic.
Have a beautiful day, you deserve the best.
Wow, I'm so sorry you've had such serious struggles and the social worker would tell you such things. Some people really shouldn't be put in positions where they are supposed to be a trusted source of advice and counsel and she sounds like one of those people. Those are incredibly damaging things to say to someone who was in the very vulnerable state you were in. I'm glad you were able to keep your faith in God and made attempts to study the issue yourself even though you had an experience that understandably made both those things more difficult. Like if she actually told you it would have been better if your suicide attempts were successful that's very suicide baity and I hope she's not still in that position.
I'm very honored you feel like I know the Bible pretty well. I have been studying it more in depth this past year or two so I definitely know more than I used to but there's still a lot for me to learn!
The Bible doesn't explicitly address suicide and say not to do it, but we can get a very solid understanding of what God thinks about it by reading and studying his word. We know that God is the creator and he has given us the gift of life. And he makes it clear in the Bible that all life is unique and precious to him and he does not want us to take it upon ourselves to end our own lives.
There six or seven people mentioned in the Bible who committed suicide and several more who had suicidal thoughts but overcame them by putting their hope in God. Elijah, Solomon, Jonah, Job, even Paul all hit the point where they wanted to give up on life and some even asking God to end them, but instead of going through with these desires, they ended up putting their trust and faith in God and he pulled them through, which is what he wants us to do whenever we have to the point where we are in so much despair the only things we can think of to distract ourselves or end our troubles is self harm and suicide. In Acts 16 Paul even explicitly stops a prison guard who was about to kill himself after thinking a bunch of prisoners had escaped and tells him not to kill himself.
There are many verses in the Bible about coming to God when we feel at our lowest.
"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11
"Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken." - Psalms 55:22
"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." - Romans 8:1-2
"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." - Romans 8:38-39
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all." - Psalms 34:18-19
Those are by no means all the verses, but it is a small sampling that shows that God wants us to come to him with our despair, sorrow and grief so he can give us healing and hope again.
Speaking theologically, suicide would be a considered a sin. It goes against God's commandments and disrespects the gift of life he has given and disrespects the fact that God is the giver and taker of life. Life is not ours to take. Not from another person and not from ourselves. God created us special. In 1 Corinthians it says “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.” This pertains to far more than suicide, but suicide is definitely a way to disrespect our own body.
God does tell us not to commit murder and suicide is technically self-murder. So while suicide is a sin, it's not unforgivable and it's not something you deserve for anything else you do or are struggling with and it's completely unbiblical for anyone to say you should be killed or your suicide attempts should have been successful.
I am very glad you made attempts to study for yourself instead of just accepting what that woman told you and I hope you have found healing and I hope I was able to provide a somewhat satisfactory answer for you.
Thank you for your kind words. I hope you are doing better and have a wonderful day! God bless!
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For the ask game: what about an au where Bakugou is the quirkless one, and Izuku has the perfect combo of his parents quirk?
1- Izuku can breathe green fire, and can telekinetically manipulate the flames, though this doesn't work on fires he didn't create. People say he could be the next Endeavor, and Izuku says he'd rather be All Might, who is an even better hero and makes people feel safe, not scared. "Well, fire is a scary quirk, but I'm sure you'll be just like All Might if you want to be, Izuchan!" (Izuku never could quite put his finger on why that annoyed him, though he was much better at recognizing the unfairness and assumptions others faced.)
2- Bakugou is quirkless. He also knows how to play the game. (Remember his "don't smoke I don't want it on my record but illegal quirk use that never gets punished is fine, also I'm only at this sucky school because it'll make a better origin story for main character me" moment?) So he works very, very hard to be the top of the class academically, does not waste words on those who don't deserve them (yeah he's going to be a hero. No he doesn't need to prove that to his middle school science teacher.), and rather extensively knows his rights and how to sick his mother on the school when needed. (Mitsuki is the most hated parent at Aldera primary.) Eventually, he agrees he needs a better middle school he isn't fighting to get the bare minimum at, and leaves then.
3- Izuku gets very frustrated very quickly when at the beginning of middle school, his friends expect him to start talking bad about Bakugou too, and are even more annoyed when he tells them to knock it off. Just because he's a shoe-in for a hero school doesn't mean he has to be so self righteous all the time! Izuku ends up largely being alone in middle school, and figures it's better that way, focusing on training and studying.
4- Bakugou ends up using his parents connections to figure out some support tech as he prepares for UA. Mitsuki tells him not to get his hopes too high this time, because she can't promise being a nightmare parent will work to actually get him fair treatment, UA is a different beast than Aldera Primary. He gets mad because he didn't ask her to pull that card this time and can get in himself, she gets mad at him because he's too smart to stop thinking of backup plans now, it's a whole screaming match thing that ultimately changes nothing about either's expectations.
5- Masaru's opinion on it is that it seems there's an actual chance for Katsuki to make friends at this new school who could encourage him- that Ashido girl sounds nice- and that would both help him maybe get in, but also get him a support network if he doesn't. No one listens to Masaru except his old classmate Inko, who nods on the phone and says she gets it, she really wished Izuku would have more friends over too, because sure he's been trying hard but UA is so selective
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wondering what your thoughts are on john’s comments about paul subconsciously trying and destroying his songs. i believed in particular he mentioned strawberry field. john was really passionate when speaking about it. i can’t believe paul would do that, that’s wrong.
Well, to be clear, John specifically said Paul is doing this subconsciously so, while he was very bothered by the whole thing, he specifically didn't ascribe any malicious intent to Paul.
Does that mean he was completely right? No. Do I think this "theory" came from nowhere? Also no.
I think what John is right about is that Paul had a different approach to arranging his own songs than he did with John's. Paul had a genuine interest in experimental studio techniques, but there is something notable about how he threw himself into tape loops specifically on Tomorrow Never Knows rather than one of his own songs. Maybe a part of that was due to being slightly afraid those experimentations wouldn't turn out as well as he'd hoped and he was therefore more protective of his own songs. But I think a huge part of it was that John a) had a different style which naturally inspired differing production ideas and b) John often didn't have as clear visions for how he wanted his songs to sound as Paul did, leaving Paul "more room".
I think b) is at the crux of John's complaint here. I think the fact he couldn't as easily express his ideas led to him feeling steamrolled and unable to contradict Paul's ideas (and clearly Paul is self-righteous about his music ideas and doesn't always express this diplomatically).
That being said, how much this applies to Strawberry Fields Forever in particular is debatable. John was at least somewhat hands-on with the arrangement here. He's the one that asked George Martin to stick two takes together and the amount of work that went into the song was not only because Paul said so.
But I also understand being an artist and feeling like something you created didn't live up to its potential. While I don't like John's blaming of Paul, I do somewhat agree with him that the production isn't quite right and sort of undermines the composition. (I'm most partial to Take 1 and the Love version) I also get his anger over Across The Universe – I really think that recording suffers a TON despite the song being gorgeous. When he complained about that one he actually said: "the guitars are out of tune and I'm singing out of tune ... and nobody's supporting me or helping me with it and the song was never done properly"* He sort of betrays the fact that he's not only angry about the song itself but also that he felt abandoned in general. John was always very quick to find someone to blame for his problems, which was a very frustrating tendency of his, but his problems were very real and it's human to want to have something to point at.
*quote is from wikipedia. I think the ellipses include him talking about being "psychologically destroyed"
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What did you think of Orym's speech in the recent episode? I've seen some praise but I've also seen people call him self righteous
Mmm. I've got a number of feelings about it, some of which I'm still working through and kind of want to take a wait-and-see stance on. Let me see if I can break down my thoughts cleanly.
- Before anything else, I want to talk about the circumstances of this speech. The Bells are rattled. (Very much including Orym). One of their friends just, completely unexpectedly, even with all their openness with each other, tried to murder them. Threw deeply personal attacks at them. And they don't even have the space to process it, not properly. There's things they neeed to do. There's things they need to do.
- In that sense- I don't think it was meant to be an inspirational speech, per se, which is why as much as I like Orym, posts talking about it as inspiration, as uplifting, as "we are better than this!" don't quite hit the mark for me. This was not a "come together and battle our demons and be better for it!". This was not a "We are stronger together, we can each overcome our problems if we trust each other", build up hope and comaradery kind of speech.
- This was a "we all know we're fucked up, but there is bigger shit on the table, there are bigger fish to fry. i know we're all fucked up, but we don't really have the luxury of being fucked up right now". It was "we're all fucked up. we know that. but we can't afford it, right now. so what we need to do is promise to hold each other in line. we have to be willing to do what it takes to get these things done- even if the cost is yourself. or each other."
- 👀
- Orym said: "We have to be better together. Have to."
- And so with that in mind, saying it was self righteous also doesn't quite land for me. Was Orym, to an extent, distancing himself from the rest of them with bits of his vocab? Sure. Is the demand in this- lets call it a "to arms" speech, instead- questionable in some situations and absolutely influenced by Orym's own traumas and flaws and personal missions and regrets? 10000% and I'm also looking So Hard at you, Orym.
- But to me, the entire speech wasn't a dismissive or a patronizing "Be better", it was a desperate "Be better". It was a "For the mission, we need to be better, we need to make each other better. We need to keep each other in line."
- And Orym not applying it as evenly to himself could be a little self righteous except I'm reading this entire thing so heavily skewed by his own flaws and fears that it reads more like. Idk. Like Imogen telling Fearne "Its okay to be angry" and leaving us all here like "oh well the advice is technically sound but buddy this is also about you, huh <3". My hot take: Orym wasn't asking for commitments or promises or letting things slide because He's In Charge, its because he needed to hear that. He needs to.
- And whether the contents OF THE ACTUAL SPEECH are sound or not is a while other thing and very influenced by context and time. But I'm mostly fascinated by the nuance of it, because- its not inspirational, its desperate, its a wake up call, its an unsteady vow among people who, to a good extent, trust and like each other, and are now looking at a need to promise to distrust each other, as much as The Mission requires. For a shaken team, unsure, unmoored- I think it might do the trick. But hot damn, there's a lot going on under the surface.
#i didnt reblog a ton of posts on it or write about it bc i was still kind of working through my thoughts on it#and i didnt want to get swept up in people saying whether the speech was right or wrong or orym was being good or bad#bc. thats just not where my interest is. look how screwed up things are and look how theyre reacting. isnt that neat.#critical role#c3e31#orym#character meta#meta#speculation#bell's hells#my meta#spar speaks#ask away!#orym meta
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Hello there, I'm CM, Cancer moon.
My question - Why am I having a hard time finding love/settling into a relationship?
You have my permission to read for me.
Thank you for opening this ask session!
Hi! Thank you for participating
Bro what? The cards literally flew out😭. My deck literally became a mess. The energy is kinda desperate, sorry but it is what it is. You are overwhelmed by why love isn't coming your way.
With the chariot card, it tells me you have a high standards and also high morals. You find it difficult to settle with someone who does not match your morals and standard. You are easily turned off when you see someone is doing some corrupted activities . A heavy focus on being a righteous person here. You do not like people who do not have enough will power to do their own tasks. At the same time, you need someone to lead you but not in a controlling manner, which is good but at the same time, you don't want that. I am getting like it's more of a fantasy thing for you where you do dream of a strong will person leading you but fear that they will end up controlling you , which is your another turn off for you.
With star reversed, you need to appear confident in others. Confidence is not about how you look but how well you take the attention in the room. I just saw a video before doing this reading where within 10 seconds, the girl changed from nervous to confident with her body language. You need to do the same and appear confident and bold. Also, the star reverse comes in a reading when you have lost hope for romance or love in your life. You do not really have faith that your person will even come into your life. But, for that you need to be the best version of yourself. As beautiful as it sounds in those books where love has no boundaries and is limitless but the real world is far more different. People want those partners who they feel can complement them well, so start becoming like who you want in your life. Also , you need to stop being self critical. It's ok you make mistakes, you may not be perfect but that's totally human. That's how a human is made to be like. You need not be overly critical of that.
With 4 of cups , I see you do get confessions from others but you either overthink them or you do not believe them. Maybe, it's because of your high standards, that you reject some of them but atleast give them a try. What if you find yourself feeling that happiness again with them. You never know until you get up and give it a try. Atleast give them a chance and see how it unfolds for both of you. If it doesn't work out, you can always back off. It will also help you to know what you like and dislike in a relationship and in a person.
Let me get some advice from your guides
With ace of cups in reversed, your guides are telling you that you are loved. You need to stop feeling that people don't love you . Your guides love you but maybe they can't connect with you much like before? . It's kind of like a blockage from your side. You need to sit down and meditate and let go of some baggage , so that you can connect with them and let them know your problems. They want you to tell them your problems , so that your blockage can be lifted.
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Hii! How are you? Hope the new year is treating you well
Love your Jiang Cheng/Meng Yao/Xue Yang everything, they are all excellent characters (especially JC my beloved)
Wanted to ask why you don't like Nie Mingjue? (Totally genuine btw, I'm mostly indifferent towards him but I like hiw tou do character analysis and am curious?)
Happy new year and take care :D
oh boy, okay. I waffled for a while about responding to this only because I tend to...avoid wading into things that might get me in trouble, and this feels like something that could get me in trouble, because I'm talking about my (negative) feelings on a relatively popular character and that can provoke some pretty intense responses.
but I don't really want to foster that impulse, at least not all the time, and I try to be fair when I talk about these things, so, hey, might as well. under a cut for anyone who doesn't want to read the following (counts) nine paragraphs of rambling about this subject
first off I feel like I should say that it probably seems like I dislike Nie Mingjue because he comes into conflict with Jin Guangyao, and while that isn't not true, characters being in conflict with each other does not preclude me liking both of them. I mean, I would hope that was obvious.
I think the biggest reason me and Nie Mingjue do not vibe is actually - and this occurred to me as I was writing this response - the same reason that I used to dislike Stannis Baratheon back when I was active in the A Song of Ice and Fire fandom. (Not so much anymore, mostly because now I just find him kind of funny. Sorry, Stannis.) Namely: he's inflexible and utterly convinced of his own rightness/righteousness.
One of my least favorite qualities in a person is self-righteousness, and while that can work for me in a character it very much doesn't here, I think because it comes with that inflexibility. Nie Mingjue's sense of morality and order is rigid with very little room for his judgment being affected by circumstance or external context. To him, those considerations are irrelevant at best and viewed as excuses at worst.
I'm someone who is, meanwhile, allergic to universal statements, particularly universal statements of good/bad, evil/righteous, etc. I don't like them, I'm incredibly wary of them, and while, again, me disliking these things irl doesn't necessarily preclude enjoying them in a character, it is going to be at least somewhat of a barrier. I feel like it would be less of one here, honestly, if I didn't feel like fandom often endorses Nie Mingjue's perspective on this, as opposed to acknowledging it for what I think it is actually in the text; I have more I could say on this but I'm already writing an essay so I'll just note that I think the fact that Nie Mingjue's corpse can't distinguish between Jin Ling and Jin Guangyao is thematically important.
I don't need a character's morality to align with mine to like them, obviously. The greater crime is finding a character frustrating or irritating, and that's what this particular quality of Nie Mingjue's does to me.
"But what about Xiao Xingchen," I can hear somebody saying. "Doesn't he have the same rigid perspective?" Yes, arguably; his also breaks horribly over the duration of the story, and that's the part of his arc that I find compelling! I find Xiao Xingchen most interesting when his initial understanding of the world has been irrevocably changed and he has to reckon with the fact that justice is not as simple as he thought it would be.
I also - and I know how this is going to sound, I feel like - do not vibe with characters who really strongly believe in state-supported violence. I don't care if characters kill people - the more the better! murder all you like, my darlings! - but I do care if they're advocating the death penalty from a position of political power/authority. Which is actually not a distinction I'd necessarily realized was important to me, but apparently it is. As far as my fictional taste goes: personal violence is fine. State violence is not. I'm sure there are exceptions here (there usually are) but it is generally true that the more violence comes from a position of authority/power in the sense of "this is structurally supported by some form of government/systematic structure", the more I'm going to feel badly about it and the less kindly I am going to feel toward the character in question.
Nie Mingjue is very, very invested in state-supported violence and very eager to dole it out on a personal basis. We see it with his almost killing Xue Yang while Xue Yang is on trial; we see it with Jin Guangyao, multiple times. "Well, they were guilty!" Yeah, I know, that's not the point. The line Nie Mingjue draws between legitimate/illegitimate violence doesn't work for me.
There's also some other stuff that's more fandom-related around the fanon characterization Nie Mingjue often gets that frustrates me because of the way I feel like it increasingly departs from the text, which has (as usual) more of an impact on my feelings about the original character than it perhaps should. Probably because I feel like it's such a misreading of the point of his character. Everyone in fandom is extrapolating from the character on the page/screen - lord knows I do it. But I do feel like I have a limit that I hit where that extrapolation feels like it's reading against the text and what the text is saying, and/or making them a "type" built on a generalized mold, and that's where my patience really runs out.
anyway this has all been very wordy and probably unnecessarily harsh but...I think some of it was useful for me in terms of thinking out just why, even beyond fandom-related frustrations, Nie Mingjue was never a character I could care about or like.
#conversating#dasy8316#yeah not character tagging this i'm not doing that to the folks in the tag#the sad queer cultivators show#lise's aggressively bitchy opinions about irrelevant and unimportant matters
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My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)
Chapter 16 | Words: 3.3k
Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?
That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.
He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079
Warnings: Self Harm/Self-Punishment, violent thoughts.
“A living vampire? A living vampire! A living vampire…” Tar’eon watched Astarion pace the small room, waiting for him to collect himself. He had a good feeling it was better to wait and feel it out. Astarion looked drawn tighter than his bow in battle.
After another couple of paces, Astarion knocked an old wine bottle off the dresser and growled when it didn’t break instantly. Like he'd been hoping it would shatter and ease some of the anger. Tar'eon didn't flinch. He'd been waiting for the outburst, patient to have Astarion come back to him once he wasn't so wound up.
“Cheap shit.” He cursed before sitting down on the bed, hands on his knees, a scowl marring his features. “…Cazador needs me. That’s why he’s trying to get me back. Without me, there’s no ritual to be had. I was the first spawn in his little farce. And the key to unlimited power.”
“As long as we keep you from Cazador, he won’t ever get that power.” Tar'eon assured.
“You don’t understand. He is — obsessive. He’s been working on this for two centuries. Which sure, is a short time for a vampire, but it is still…so much time. So much preparation...” Astarion sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’ll chase me to the ends of Fae’run. He won’t ever let me go. Not as long as I carry this scar…”
“We could have it removed. Find someone with the skill. Hells, Gales is a wizard, maybe somewhere in his tomes..."
“It’s a pact. An infernal one at that. It won’t just go away. It’ll come back. Devils are pesky like that. If anything, I'd have to make another deal to avoid the current one.” Astarion worked his jaw, flexing it with irritation before he deflated, hanging his head. “I have to take the fight to him.”
“You won’t be alone.” Tar’eon placed his hand over his and squeezed. “I’ll be by your side. We all will. This fight isn’t one you have to do on your own.”
“What do you suggest? We storm his palace and slit his throat while he sleeps? He’ll know we’re there the moment we arrive. We can’t beat him.” He sounded hopeless despite his righteous anger, fisting his hands.
“Yes, we can. We’ve taken on cultists and hellbeasts all on our own. A vampire lord? I might just break a sweat, but it’ll be worth it.” His humorous words coaxed a smile onto Astarion’s lips, obviously trying to stifle it, but Tar’eon sat closer, grinning to himself. “Have some faith in me. In us. We’re more powerful together than a pesky vampire lord with a kick for torture.”
“You’re incorrigible. You won’t let this go, will you?” Astarion chuckled. “Always the hero.”
“Always. I always want to be your hero, ph myirz.” Tar’eon tipped his chin up and smiled down at the almost hazy softness to his ruby eyes, lacking their sharp and cutting edges. Like he'd forgotten to put his mask back on. It made Tar'eons heart swell. “I told you. I want to protect you.”
“Because I’m oh-so-fragile, darling? I could end your life if I got a bit more greedy during my feedings. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion tutted, a glint of mirth in his eyes, that mask morphing back into place, and Tar'eon tried not to be bothered by the reappearance of it.
“I do. And no, I don’t want to protect you because you’re fragile.” He caressed his cheek with the back of his hand, deep adoration in his mismatched eyes. “I…I have many reasons why. But that’s not one of them. I know you’re capable. Strong. You're a survivor above all else. It’s some of the traits I like most about you.”
He didn’t want his blood on his hands. He was protecting him from more than just Cazador. Keeping him safe meant from himself as well. He never wanted his urges to turn against his myirz.
“You’re buttering me up, aren’t you? Did you change your mind about spending this night merely resting then?” Astarion said in a low, seductive voice, his fingers curling into the laces of his shirt. Tar’eon chuckled and took his wandering hand, raising it to his lips to kiss, from his fingertips and upon each joint until he reached his knuckles.
“No. I haven’t. Does my devotion to you always make you this antsy to jump my bones?” He huffed a soft laugh, enamoured by Astarion's playfulness.
“I mean, having a person bend to my wishes is quite fun.” Astarion smirked, eyes darkening at the idea. "And you do so so beautifully, my darling devil."
“Oh? Is that so? You enjoy making me a slave to your every whim? I never would have guessed given how...august you are." The sarcasm was weaved into his words and Astarion laughed, light and airy.
“Who said anything about slavery? If anything, I enjoy being worshipped. Am I not beautiful enough to sit amongst Gods, rather than mortals?” He ran a hand through his hair, pale curls falling upon his brow. A practised move.
“If I say yes, will you let me be the big spoon?”
“Oh, you’ll be big spoon whether you like it or not. I do not see the appeal of being a literal leech on your back.” Astarion barked a laugh at the very idea before his expression grew serious. “Are you certain you don’t want to? I won’t offer again if you say no.”
“I am. I don’t want to sleep with you, Astarion.” Tar'eon insisted for the third time.
“Fine, well…Can I ask why?” It seemed to be bothering the vampire, so Tar’eon leaned back on his palms and thought about it, taking his query seriously. He didn’t want to scare Astarion by admitting to the violent urges he’d felt during the intense kiss in the crypt. He wasn’t sure he was ready to even speak of it out loud without spiralling.
“Because I want to hold you.”
“So hold me. We don’t have to exclude a little fun beforehand.”
“Why are you so persistent about me sleeping with you tonight?” Tar'eon turned the question on him and Astarion frowned, looking uncomfortable.
“I simply don’t understand why you don’t want to.” Astarion wasn’t speaking the whole truth, and Tar’eon knew it, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to force it from the man. He preferred when Astarion came to him, ready to open up just that little bit further. It was more gratifying that way, to have the vampire chose to divulge his thoughts to him. It’s why he never used the magic of the tadpole with him, voluntarily at least, even if it twisted him up inside at times, not knowing what the man was thinking.
“It’s not that I’m against sleeping with you altogether, Astar. But the desire to be close to you in other ways is a higher priority to me. Especially tonight.” He wanted to commit the feeling of him in his arms, the ticklish curls against his lips and the soothing coolness of his flesh, to memory. In case there was a day he could no longer experience it for himself. Lest there be a day he had to part ways with Astarion, for the vampires own safety.
“Darling, sex is the closest you can get to people, full stop.” Astarion said like Tar’eon was naive, and maybe he was. He hadn’t lived nearly as long as Astarion, but he had learnt quite a bit in the short time he could remember.
“Okay. Maybe to you. Not to me.”
“Pray tell, what is closer than being inside one another?” Astarion looked exasperated, looking at him expectantly.
Tar’eon chuckled, “I could show you.”
“Absolutely not.” Astarion rolled his eyes. “I am not wasting time on such a ridiculous notion. Just say it plainly so I can laugh at you. It’ll satisfy me more than sex, if that makes you feel better.”
“Laughter can be better than sex. There’s a million things I consider to be better than sex.”
“Do tell.” Astarion propped his chin in his palm, appearing bored, but Tar'eon could tell he was focusing on him.
“Well...good food?"
“I suppose we can agree on that. But I do enjoy sinking my teeth into you when you’re filled up with all those lovely hormones.” Astarion purred.
“Good music.” Tar'eon continued, ignoring his flirtation.
“Gods, don’t even. If you ever start singing mid-fuck, I’ll rip your vocal cords out.”
“Astar, please stop relating things to sex.”
“Hard not to when you’re sitting there looking all kinds of delicious.” Astarion continued regardless, pushing the limits like he always did.
“You think you don’t look good? Because you do. You look gorgeous.” Illuminated by candlelight in the darkness of the room, orange hues flush against his pale features, against the ruby colour of his eyes, silhouetting his frame, draped in expensive silk...It was somehow twice as beautiful as seeing him beneath the light of the moon on their first night together. Before, he had appeared angelic but near untouchable. Something to revere, to awe and fear. Tonight, he looked softer, warmer, more real.
Tonight, he looked like he would breath the same air as him, looked alive, rather than something that would be beautifully preserved and unchanging until the end of time.
“Of course I do. I’m a vampire. We’re supposed to be alluring, sweetheart.”
“It’s not because you’re a vampire, Astarion. It’s not because you’ve got red eyes and pale skin, or even because you have fangs I’ve grown quite fond of. It’s because I like you.” Tar'eon tried to explain, unable to put all his feelings into words that Astarion would hear, would accept.
“What about me exactly? My devilish charm? My poetic words? My divine body?" Astarion leaned in closer, raising himself onto one knee as he toyed with his collar, brushing cold fingers along his hot neck as his lips rested against a pointed ear. He wasn't listening, and Tar'eon pursed his lips. "Or perhaps you like my tongue, and all the things it can do for-“
“Astarion, stop it." Frustration laced into his plea against his will, a hand on the mans stomach to stop him from breaching what little distance was between them. "Can’t you just let this be? For one night?” The advancing vampire bristled at the rejection and sat back with a glower.
“I don’t know how to do this, okay?" He said, voice tight with bitter resentment.
“Do what?” Tar'eon didn't understand why he was pressing the matter, why he was being so prickly over a simple refusal.
“This.” Astarion gestured between them with a scowl. “I don’t know how to be what you want right now.”
“I don’t want you to be anything! I just wanted to hold you, okay?”
“Well I don’t know how to do that.”
“What? Be held?” Tar'eon asked, like it was a ridiculous notion, something you just knew instinctively.
“Yes.” He hissed before his anger seemed to recede, looking rather self conscious now, like was unsure. Doubtful of what to do with himself when put in such a position. “I…don’t know how to be with you. You’re always so…I thought I had you all figured out.” He looked upset with himself, for not having all the cards in his hands.
“Well, perhaps not.” Tar’eon softened, reaching for his hand, but Astarion pulled it away, keeping both hands in his lap. Denying his comfort. “That’s not a bad thing, Astarion. We…this is new for the both of us. You know that, don’t you? We haven’t known each other long, in the grand scheme of things.”
“I thought you wanted me." Astarion didn't seem to be listening to him, not really, his eyes avoiding his. The distance growing wider, like a chasm opening up between them despite only being inches apart on the bed. "I don't understand why you suddenly don't."
"It's not that I don't." Tar'eon let out a breathless laugh like he could not fathom not wanting that intimacy with him. Truthfully, he wanted everything. "Astarion, I want you more than anything." He licked his lips, feeling the sting of the wound Astarion inflicted upon him. It was a pain he welcomed. A reminder of their connection, however tangled and knotted up it was.
"I could have you a million ways, and never be satisfied. I would...I would always hunger for you, always want more, but I could also be content with being given nothing." Tar'eon shifted, turning to face Astarion head on, needing him to hear his words, no matter how far away he may be. "You could refuse me every night for the rest of my life, and I would be happy to just be in your presence. I- I ache for you in ways I can't explain."
He swallowed hard, Astarions unreadable expression making his heart pound harder, butterflies and anxiety warring in his gut.
"I didn't want to tell you because I know it might scare you away. How...intensely I want you."
How intensely I love you.
Astarion was so still he could have been mistaken for an elaborate piece of art, for stone and marble. Tar'eon waited for him to speak, and seconds ticked on, dragging out painfully slow. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to touch Astarions face. He wasn't even breathing, but his inhale was sharp at the contact, breaking away from it and staggering away from the bed so fast Tar'eon could feel the breeze against his body. There was a sudden lack of warmth beside him, as ironic as it was. Tar'eons heart dropped.
"I...I need some air." Astarion finally spoke, voice rough as he turned on his heel and made for the door.
"Astar-" Tar'eon stood quickly, hooking his fingers into the crook of his elbow to make him stay, to make him speak what was on his mind before he took it with him and shut him out completely.
"Don't- do not keep me here." Astarion didn't even look at him, but he looked like he was trying to crawl into himself, smaller than Tar'eon had ever seen him. "I am not the one who should be here..." Tar'eons brows furrowed, not understanding his vague words. "So let me go. Now."
"Astar...Please. I'm not asking you to accept my feelings right now, I just...I needed you to know that I care about you. Past sharing a bed together, if that's what you had assumed."
"I said I need air, dammit!" The vampire snapped and pulled himself free, stumbling a few steps back with a heartbreaking expression Tar'eon could not name, not in the heat of the moment, but it felt like a sucker punch to the solar plexus regardless, watching Astarion turn to the door to flee. Flee from him.
Tar'eon expected a slam. Somehow, the gentle click of the door closing was worse. He swallowed hard, the weight on his chest becoming so unbearable he couldn't breathe.
He slowly approached the door, his hand brushing over the thick wood, tracing over the dips of its design. He knocked his horns against it and clenched his jaw, forcing the urge to cry back.
In doing so, another urge reared its head.
He held his head and furrowed his brow, the screaming echo in his mind ceaseless, his tadpole squirming, burrowing deeper like even it was trying to escape the violent wrath impending upon his mind. His vision was plague with images; Alfira's body, Nere's decapitated head, the sinking of the duergars body falling back, sinking into black waters. Bodies and bodies, stacked upon each other, the taste of blood filling his mouth, but it was a different taste to his own, a terrifyingly realistic memory to his taste buds. Gale's blood, rotten and metallic.
It continued, trying to drive him to madness as the thoughts forced themselves to the front and centre. Thoughts of squeezing until his claws broke past skin and bone, thumbs gouging into frightened red eyes, the satisfying sound of sinking his fingers into gore, into brain matter and squelching tissue, feeling cold blood run in rivets down his wrists.
He gasped, the ache like an anvil, mouth full of saliva with the desire to heave even as his heart pounding with the thrill of the kill, even the illusions of one. His gut was growing hot with anger, raging against the urge that wanted to control him just like the tadpole.
He bared his canines as he turned away from the door, refusing to follow after the man, lest he lose control. His knees felt weak, collapsing in on himself, his vision spotting. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he held his head, claws biting into his scalp. He realised the spots were because he wasn't breathing, holding trapped air in his chest, holding back the need to sob, whether from heartache or terror, he wasn't sure.
He opened his eyes and forced himself to suck in more air, his chest feeling ready to explode before he unleashed a roar, grasping the nearest object and slamming it into corner of the wardrobe, watching the wine bottle shatter on impact. Like it could scare the urge away.
He tasted blood once more, something more familiar. His own. He licked his lips, and recognised the taste was coming from above his top lip, rather than the puncture wound on his bottom. He reach up and wiped the blood from his nose, finally noticing the sting of the cut across it. He looked down at the glass at his knees and could tell which one had sliced him, a tag of skin caught on it's sharp edge.
He panted softly, finally able to breathe, but it didn't stop the whispers, the growing noise in his head, louder than the tadpole had ever been. Shakily, he stood, the neck of the bottle still in his right hand. It had turned it into a jagged, uneven thing. Useless for holding wine. He stared at the blood on his other hand, turning his gaze towards the full length mirror by the bed, his cloak, gifted to Astarion, hanging off the edge. He watched his reflection.
He looked like a beast. Hunched in on himself, blood pouring down around his nostrils and onto his mouth, the feral, terrified look in his eyes making it hard to reconcile himself with the image before him. He looked like something that might haunt the Shadow Lands, rather than something that was trying to lift it's curse. Something ghoulish, something monstrous.
He came to stand before the mirror, staring at his own face with burning intensity despite the fear making his stomach roil.
"I won't let you hurt him. I won't let you hurt any of them."
The urge still yearned for blood, screamed for it, thrashing against the bars of it's cage. Tar'eon would not let it free. He would not kill another innocent. He would not maim his friends.
"If you want blood; then you will settle for ours." He brought the jagged glass to his arm, pressing down until it surpassed the notion of pain and turned to agony, blood spilling down his forearm, dripping onto the floor in soft, wet splats.
It didn't silence the noise. The Urge. But it brought clarity to his own mind. Put him one step ahead of it, however precarious the step was. Threatening to crumble beneath his weight at any moment.
His left arm quivered, pain sharp and burning. He reached for his pack despite the agony of the action and fished out a healing potion with trembling fingers.
He looked at himself in the mirror as he pulled the top off, almost dropping it more than once, hand around the bottle slicked with his own blood. He shot it back and groaned, the relief a godsent.
He would not let himself be controlled by the monster in the depths of his soul. He would bleed enough to water a field as long as it kept his friends alive.
His life, a life he could not even remember, was not worth theirs.
It was not worth his.
#astarion x dark urge#astarion x mc#astarion x tav#astarion x male tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 fanfiction#astarion bg3#bg3 tav#astarion#baldurs gate tav
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Hey, i'm the anon that asked for your opinion on how to deal with fandom nonsense and self entitlement. Thank you for that advice, it really does help.
So without really getting into the details of the exact fandom and characters, i'll just provide the following.
Me and majority of others like to interpret or read into a certain character's dynamic as platonic/sibling type of relationship. And since we of course have self righteous pricks out there that deem their opinion as the ultimate truth on the matter, they see this dynamic as romantic and accuse the rest of as that don't as being incestious and vile alabama lovers because our view is wrong and their is "canonically" right. Whereas the game it's self is very ambiguous on it and further proved by the actual devs themselves that went out of their way to portray said realtionship as platonic but this is all denied by these kind of fans with the excuse of "makes no sense".
Which is why i was getting tired of people like this, they call your POV a headcanon while claiming that theirs is the right way to read how "a story was meant to be" even though none have the say in it. I hope i cleared this up. Again, thanks for taking your time to listen to this little vent. :)
Nah, you're fine, anon!
As crude as it sounds, I use this saying to help me stay in my lane.
"What you eat doesn't make me shit."
It gets the point across.
Yeah, people are gonna talk cash trash on here but so be it. 🤷🏾♀️
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What do you think about some of Asoiaf antagonists like Euron , Littlefinger , Varys , bloodraven Tywin , Roose?
some controversial opinions!
i like a lot of these antagonists actually! euron is one of my faves, absolutely unhinged and genuinely scary? one of the few undeniably evil characters george included in the books, like, i don't think euron has one redeeming quality to his name. but he's sort of mesmerizing? his actions make me sick but also leave me wanting more?? also he can be really funny and full of shit, which makes characters more enjoyable for me. love euron!!! hope lord leyton whoops his arse!!!! (fervently praying to the seven) euron is The One villain i couldn't possibly woobify even if i tried, so props to him he truly is *the one by shakira starts playing*
littlefinger & varys i can't really stand. i appreciate them for comic relief (always down for a good joke) but their meddling in westerosi affairs i find very exhausting & pugnacious. like, i realise everyone is out here for themselves, so, in that sense, them being self-serving shouldn't bother me the way it does, but i can't with these two. littlefinger is a naked opportunist and, while i can admire that trait in other characters, his sleaziness and lack of charisma put me off, so into the trash bin he goes.
varys i have an even bigger problem with. generally-speaking sanctimoniousness and moral righteousness are triggers for me and i can't really stand characters that are Like That. i legit fight with people who exhibit those traits in real life, like, i am an aries so i do not back down lol you'll die with me around your neck. there has to be something else in that character to balance out these things that annoy me, i guess, but varys didn't manage to make the cut, bc that is the entirety of his personality, i'm afraid. this may ruffle some feathers but i think that his scheme with young griff, real or not, is essentially morally bankrupt, in that he's out there role-playing the head of a research institute sending out his agents into the world to carry out this political experiment that may or may not work, but will have a huge body count regardless. it's very callously cynical to me, but he expects to be congratulated on how ideologically pure and morally unsullied he is - i think that's what drives me up the wall.
i know that people really want young griff to be real but varys' grand master plan is to destabilize a country, intentionally plunge it into a civil war that'll get a lot of people killed, in order to facilitate what would be another war of conquest undertaken under aegon vi's banners. instead of trying to actively improve the lives of the common people, since he's on the small council. he's still focusing on power plays and on plots with this brainwashed belief that he's doing it for the good of the people. but is he? he doesn't even know young griff. what if he turns out to be some bad apple; how is varys to know? idk i just cannot get behind it. and i don't think the author will eventually condone this message or plot as righteous either bc i don't see how aegon's reign will last. i think varys is the type of person dead-set in their belief that their actions are for The Greater Good in a the-ends-justify-the-means kind of way, but, ultimately what he truly cares more about is being Right TM - i.e. having his hypothesis proven to be true. clinical, cold researcher/mad scientist vibes.
for roose bolton i couldn't possibly mount a defense even if i were so inclined, but i do enjoy him as a character. i think he's very funny? lmao this sounds very obnoxious after i just tore varys a new arsehole but roose is unquestionably a villain, so there's no need to pretend like he's contributing to the good of society or anything. whereas with varys there is that element to him, perhaps why i find him annoying and roose i do not. roose has some great one-liners - he was funny in the show and he's funny on the page. absolutely awful but enjoyable for what he is.
for tywin i will not be writing any significant meta until i wrap up my last phd chapter and do a proper re-read bc i do not have energy to get into that disk horse right now. i know people hate him but yes he is one of my faves. with tywin i find that he generates three types of commentaries - either people hate his guts and see everything he does in a villainous lens or he attracts the sort of dudebro fan who idolizes the ground he walks on in a v silly way. the third way is the few people who might want to attempt to see him as more three-dimensional, but, because they don't want to get attacked, they preface their commentaries with disclaimers and apologies and messages that they absolutely do not condone his actions, so much so that the observations kind of get lost along the way. i'm neither. i want enlightened centrist meta on tywin lannister. i'm a chill tywin enjoyer, an aficionado of Machiavelli deconstructions. i'd lighten up the mood a little with my quirky takes. but anyway i don't really have time for that kind of fight and tywin himself would tell me to stop procrastinating and get my work done so i'll have to listen to Daddy i guess!!!
EDIT: oohhh i forgot about bloodraven. i'm gonna be contrarian about this one bc i really don't like it when george shoves his fave characters down my throat. i can FEEL that he really wants me to like bloodraven and the blackwoods, just like he wants me to like daemon the rogue prince. and it's annoying sorry old man. i don't think bloodraven is supposed to be written as 100% evil (george wouldn't do that to one of his faves) so his human life is supposed to be guided by some moral principles - i believe that he believed he was servicing the realm with his anti-blackfyre stance and surveillance regime and i believe that even the author intends that to be true to some extent. however, i can't say the same thing about his time as a magical tree. that's just some creepy AF shit. his luring of bran, i see that as magical corruption. bran is mostly a victim in all of this, but he is kind of tainted for me as a character now, bc i don't see how anyone could be 'redeemed' after dabbling in dark magicks like that, willingly or unwillingly. it would feel like a betrayal to how magic has been approached in the books so far - like a force you have to pay a high price for if you want to access it & not necessarily a bringer of peace and harmony either. that being said!!! if we ever got a blackfyre timeline show & bloodraven was played by this dark, sylphidine, mysterious, brooding albino twink......................i am not immune!
#ask#anon#what a question that was#euron greyjoy#petyr baelish#varys#roose bolton#tywin lannister#anon is currently off while i make my way through my backlog#bloodraven
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Oh! I see so Radagon and Marika are two different peoples but they have the same soul or identical souls
I didn't really know about the shared soul concept
They are one but not exactly one
Like the concept "two but one" and "one but two"
Individualism and Collectivism
While Marika's choice to break the Elden Ring is by herself and Radagon's choice to repair it is for the better of others bcuz he's a zealot that only believe in the absolute ideals of The Golden Order
Here's the interesting part: Marika broke the Ring seemingly bcuz it's for herself cuz she's tired of the Golden Order yes (Individualism)? But her choice also allows everyone even the graceless,the hated to compete for the position of the Elden Lord,which is for everyone's benefits (Collectivism)
Radagon was trying to repair the Ring bcuz he believed in an old,bygone era of the Erdtree bcuz he likely thought it was for everyone's benefits (Collectivism)
But what is it to say that he didn't do it out of an extreme self's belief only (Individualism)? His belief doesn't equal everyone's belief so he may as well have been trying to repair the Ring bcuz it's his entire existence's purpose,to ensure the authority and importance of the Golden Order
His insistence that the Golden Order's ideals is the very best to ensure the comfort of all is interesting
These two are so interesting in the aspect that they're the same yet not the same. Breaking the layers of complexity, they were only doing what they saw as the right thing to do
(It's me the sudden scholar. I'm surprised at my analytic skills sometimes,the analysis just came to me suddenly sometime,even though I don't even play the game, I know a lot about it through various other sources. Hope you like this :) )
That's a really great way to put it! Marika and Radagon both believe their choices are righteous, and although they ultimately disagree, they're essentially gambling to see whose ideals will outlast the the other's.
As for their separate origins, I sometimes wonder if it's based on quantum entanglement. Physics and metaphysics inspired much of Elden Ring's worldbuilding, from astrology to magnetism. Two beings who inform the other of their intent by nature of their opposition certainly sounds a lot like "spooky action at a distance..."
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jan 17
what will you be doing?
"blessed is that servant whom his Master, when he comes, will find so doing." matt 24:46
i was thinking about our Lord the other day, and i wondered what i might be doing when He makes His sudden summons home; for me individually, or perhaps all of us in a rapturous moment. i imagined all sorts of ambivalent or undesirables i might be engaged in at the time.
you know, it really doesn't matter a whole lot, as long as i am attentive to the call. there are certainly meanial tasks we are all required to do everyday, whether they be for job or self.
some of you may remember a few years back when frank kent cadillac in fort worth exploded. i worked nearby at the time, but they say it could be heard ten miles away. that was certainly a jolt. then back in 2003, when the space shuttle exploded over texas. i know i was on my knees in prayer in that moment, and the sudden sound made me honestly question if His coming was imminent.
i believe it is imminent still to this day. no, God hasn't whispered in my ear yet and i haven't heard a trumpet sound or explosion. never-the-less, i know in my heart and spirit that His coming grows ever nearer. has He not said, "surely the Lord God does nothing, unless He reveals His secret to His servants the prophets." amos 3:7 no, i'm not a prophet but i am His child. i don't expect to receive a date and time; just an urgency in my spirit.
anyway, back to the subject at hand. i want to be doing whatever He wants me to be doing at the time. hopefully, it will be something associated with efforts for His furthering glory, or something which serves to transform me, or others, more into His image. something like sitting in front of my computer and keyboard, writing something that might touch or encourage one of you or a lost one.
there are things we have to do, things we need to do, and things we want to do. i want to do things that will further my Lord's kingdom and glory. they may not all be profitable things or even notable things, but i think that might not matter as much to God as it does to us. as long as we're all doing the best we can, He is always there to make up the difference. yes, His power is made perfect in weakness. (see 2 cor 12:9)
i want to strive to lift someone else up, even though they may proceed myself. "let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God." phil 2:5-6 what does that mean to those of us who are not in the form of God, though we be in His image. though we might be master of all, let us all have the heart of a servant. "but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves," phil 2:3
"give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. for with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you." luke 6:38 no one can out give God. what He has already given far exceeds our greatest expectations, and yet... the Father's full giving has only begun.
"finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing." 2 tim 4:8 hallejuah, glory to God in the highest.
and so, what do you hope you are doing? just don't let Him catch you unaware or lacking oil.
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I think it's safe to say I've taken a sort of hiatus from talking with people last year. The year before burned me out due to no one but myself. I've found myself saying things that are out of character to seem funny, but come off as rude after the fact. A few years ago I went on a mental journey to understand myself more. And even read a book called The Four Gifts of Anxiety.
Which put my feelings into perspective for me. I looked up many videos that helped me learn to think more for myself. Especially during 2020. I'm very thankful for the life I have now. I'm focusing more on progressing my art. It's always been the one thing I knew I was good at and felt genuine joy from.
Now I'll have to learn to to be a better person. At 35, I think the older I get the more rude I'm becoming. It's funny because I used to have a self-righteous attitude about myself in my mid-twenties since people would reach out to me about their issues. I felt like I was the person for the job to listen to them. Like I was that perfectly nice person who could do no wrong.
I subconsciously thought I was better than some people for one reason or another. Nowadays I'm just thankful to be alive. I don't care who is better than me. I just want to live my life in peace. With that being said, I do want to become a better person.
I have a feeling a lot of people don't like me due to my lack of communication or my rude replies (I'm not 100% sure if I've ever sounded rude to others. Just the way I feel after saying some things makes me feel disgusted with myself). I've always told myself it's okay because the world doesn't revolve around me. As long as others are happy in their lives I'm okay with that.
I'm okay with people not talking with me because I'm too much. Not as accessible. Not as forward or entertaining. Too one-dimensional. I don't think my true self is someone others would find pleasant. Which is why I'd like to change that this year.
I want to try to be someone others would like to talk to. I've been experimenting with that at work and it's been coming along alright, although I feel like I make small mistakes here and there that make me cringe at myself, but I'm trying.
I'm talking with both males and females more by starting conversations. It's still a bit more difficult for me to talk with women and choose the right dialog box that won't make me look like a complete dope. I didn't grow up talking to girls. I grew up with my guy friends and didn't start really talking to girls till high school. And even then, looking back, I was creepy.
At least I think so. And still didn't communicate with girls much at all till later on in high school. But talking more at work is working. Faking my normal-ish demeanor while talking is getting more normal for me. I still don't start a lot of talks, but I'm working on it.
Talking with attractive people still throws me off, but it's slowly becoming more normal for me to talk with them. Even more so while chatting about silly topics. When they speak to me I think, "Why are they talking to me?" She willingly walks up to me and starts a conversation. This is so odd to me because with prior experience attractive women never talk to me in person unless they have to.
I've been training a new girl at work and it's been so tiring to talk and hope I'm training her well. So much talking from my end. Just faking it till I make it. It's difficult for me, but I'm glad I'm doing it. I'm happy to be trying at least.
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Season 7, Episode 23: Survival Of The Fittest
Here we go again
Not much to say about the road so far
Yikes
Oh you liar
Astute deduction, Watson
Indeed
Of course
Really?
Wow, so generous
That's true
He won't do it
Or maybe he will
Oh jeez, hold on. This conversation is the first to come up in an spn ambient track that I like to use to fall asleep, and that just made me really tired
Was it?
I still think it should be Dean. You know, Righteous Man and all
I want to know this story
Also, I previously had thought that the asmrtist had stitched together bits of dialogue, but nope. That's just... how the conversation went
Great
Really?
Dang it, Bobby
This is horrifying
Okay, that makes sense
So picky
Good for you
Dean.
Alright then
Oh boy
Not exactly
That's weird
When is it ever good news?
Who, Cas?
Yeah
If Bob Ross was a song
Did it hurt?
Um...
That is a fantastic question, Cas
Right
That's weird
Yeah
Okay..?
So Cas knows
The question of the hour
Cas...
Change of tactics
Oh great
Yeah, Meg should run
Uh oh
They still don't know
Don't act like you don't keep secrets, Crowley
Exactly
She's aware
See? He's loopy
Is that-?
Okay then
Yup!
Exactly!
Right...
Something they'd like to know
Of course, Marcus
A two-for-one deal
Seriously, Cas
Dang it, Bobby
What did he expect?
Bobby.
Crap
That's concerning
Like a freaking dog
Gee, that's helpful
Ooh, Twizzlers!
Prepare for the worst, hope for the best
That's weird
Why didn't he put the blood on the stabby end?
Anticlimactic
Hi Cas
Thanks, Cas!
Cas.
Whose is that?
Okay
Like a doctor's office
Interesting
That's freaky
Good for you, Kevin
Something's up with her
Ooh, go Kevin!
Oh boy
So like... Leviathan caviar
When is that?
Yikes
He won't make it
Uh oh
This is concerning
Charlie!
There are multiples
Wow
This is horrifying
It's like rabies
Oh no
They have company
They found out
Bad idea
He's not listening
It won't work!
Bobby!
He disappated
It was Bobby
That was a weird way to say it
Cas
Dean. Man, y'all need to be more careful with what you say
Are you sure?
Oh, Cas
What, Sam?
Ouch
Harsh, but... kind of needed
Cas.
Ah.
It's still possible
Doesn't mean much
Taking a lot of self-control
Oh, Bobby
...why do you want to know, Dean?
Okay
Yeah.
I think that's the plan
You will. I promise
About 7-8 years
...which, in retrospect, is kind of soon
That's a hot fire
He went pretty calmly
Oh, Dean...
I just want to give him a hug...
Cas, you're being weird again
That's a new game
Literally
Ooh!!!!!!! Are they getting Baby back???
I guess
Cas...
But you're still a help
ID RATHER HAVE YOU CURSED OR NOT
Season 7 is Destiel season, apparently, which is wild because I think this is what they call the "divorce arc"
Touche
Mm, yeah, well
Thanks, Cas
Make a show out of it
AND SHES BACK, BABY
There's my best girl
Gorgeous as ever
Nice
Ooh, that's gonna scratch the paint job!
He let Meg drive Baby?????? Is he psycho?????
I guess that works
Rip
...that's a new type of insult
Keep moving
Yikes
Oh that's just fantastic
Kevin!
Good info, thanks Kevin!
Okay
Yeah...
That's true
It is. For you
Great
No
Wow
Whaaat
It's working
That was just weird
And also that seemed too easy
Where are Dean and Cas?
Yeah...
That's the question of the hour
Crowley...
Crap
He's a person!
Yes and no
At least he's not insane anymore?
Wait. We're already almost done with the episode???? That felt like it was five minutes long!
Well, at least they're together
Purgatory.
Cas sounds better
Yeah
Good question
That's freaky
Cas, don't leave him alone!
How the heck is Dean supposed to survive that??????
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Some thoughts on my experiences as an Artemis devotee
Being an Artemis devotee isn’t pretty. It isn’t glamorous. It’s often just you covered in mud and sweat and mosquito bites.
It’s running into traffic to save a turtle. Three times. It’s pulling your car over on the way to work and jogging back half a mile to help the dog you passed limping along the side of the road. It’s watching a goose get clipped by a car and trekking through the cold on a busy highway to see if it’s alright.
It’s carrying a wounded animal into your bedroom and dealing with blood and pus getting all over you and your things. It’s forcing yourself to peel back skin and cartilage to look right into the gaping wound in a living creature’s head. Maybe vomiting a little from the smell. Shaking as you flush out the infection, wishing you weren’t doing this, but knowing that you are the best advocate this animal has. It’s the leap of joy you feel every time that creature runs and climbs and trills and chews up your shoelaces, because it means he’s alive and well.
It’s the beat of fierce love in your chest when the filthy, flea-bitten feral kitten you’re nursing back to health purrs in your arms for the first time. It’s crying at the vet’s office when they tell you that this young life is too deeply riddled with disease to go on much longer. Feeling like you have failed. It’s making the decision to let that child’s misery end. To send it to the endless forests of the afterlife with a silver arrow that will bring no pain.
It’s knowing that to care for living creatures, you must sometimes get your hands dirty and make hard choices. You must deal with people thinking you’re absolutely fucking nuts for risking your safety, spending your money, your time, your energy, on “just” an animal. It’s knowing that many people won’t understand, and doing it anyway. Because she called, and you chose to answer. Because there is love in you for all that is wild, for all that crawls and stalks and swims and slithers and bounds and flies. Because the natural world deserves a guardian from man’s unchecked invasion. Because to sit by and do nothing is incomprehensible to you. Because, for the life you have chosen, it is simply right.
#artemis#artemis devotee#animals#wildlife#tw:blood#tw: animal death#tw:vomit#i really hope this doesn't sound self-righteous
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I wish you’d write a fic where: based on something like these tweets? Where Ian pulls Mickey in and says something sweet to him and Mickey says something back and they’re both kinda crying a little bit while they dance, reminiscing on all of the stuff they went through to get where they are today:)
https://twitter.com/milkovichians/status/1403549997354950659?s=21
https://twitter.com/gallavichh1012/status/1403860695528087557?s=21
sara! thank you for this sweet prompt! i took this opportunity to finally try out a 5 + 1 fic, which i've never done before.... i hope it doesn't deviate too much from what you wanted! sometimes my brain just does what it wants. so i present: five times ian dances and one time he dances with mickey. [tw for mentions of the club and ian's dancing/mindset there.]
1.
The wedding had been perfect, really, even if it was fake. Loud music, cold beers, everyone coming together to dance and celebrate. All the makings of a perfect southside throw down.
Ian watches Kevin and Veronica over Mandy's shoulder as they sway together. Kev leans down to whisper something in V's ear; she laughs loudly, the sound echoing across the bar. Ian smiles. Love. That's what the day is all about.
Love, and a good scam.
"You ever wanna get married?" Mandy asks, and Ian looks down at her in surprise.
"Not to me, you idiot," she corrects. "Just, like... you wanna meet a nice hunk, settle down?"
"I'm not allowed to get married," he says, frowning slightly. He couldn't marry someone he loved. Not here.
"You could move to Massachusetts, find a gay Kennedy," Mandy teases.
"Fuck no."
He tries to picture it - a wedding, a ceremony, a faceless man in a tux reaching out a hand for him to take. To have and to hold. He's not sure he can see it.
"I might like that, I think," Mandy says lowly, tightening her grip on Ian's shoulders. "A husband, I mean."
Ian grins, twirls her. Brings her in close. They move together, a pair in tandem, and he hopes they'll always have this.
He thinks about spinning her around on her wedding day.
"Then you'll have one," he promises.
2.
His mother is in his arms this time, laughing under pulsing lights. She slides her hands down to his hips, moving them in time with the thumping bass.
Ian laughs with her, alcohol flitting through his veins and warming his blood.
"My beautiful boy," she sighs happily. "See them looking at you, baby?"
He sees them.
And he aches for Mickey. To see him under these lights, skin bathed in color. Loose and free and his.
But Mickey would never come to a place like this.
Mickey's not here. And these men are. They watch him openly, unashamed in their wanting.
Maybe this is something he can lean into. Maybe this is something he can rely on. These lights, this body.
Ian closes his eyes and throws his hands in the air.
3.
He's alone now.
Raised above a mass of moving bodies, Ian dances alone.
He feels the eyes on him, feels them roam over his hair, his face, his skin. He feels powerful under their gaze. Youthful. Beautiful.
Dancing here soothes the itch under his skin. He moves his body, losing himself in the highs of this place.
Fuck the army, this is where he's meant to be. Living fully, breathing in every sensation, indulging every impulse.
He'll live forever, he'll dance forever.
Alone, and on display.
4.
This wedding is nothing like the southside riot for Kevin and Veronica. It's a little cold, more than a little awkward.
Ian feels eyes on him, but the pleasure thrumming through his veins is distinctly absent.
The light he moves in is blue and purple, but the hands on his waist are too big.
Everything here is just a little bit wrong.
But maybe that's his life now. Medicated, aimless, without Mickey. Wrong.
But he can stick his tongue out and roll his hips to freak out some self-righteous homophobes. He can let Caleb parade him around this reception, lift up his shirt and drop to the floor.
He can do that.
Even if it all feels wrong.
5.
It's nice to be out like this again. He's always loved dancing, and he's missed that loud, thumping rhythm. Plus, Trevor's hot, and Ian won't pretend he isn't.
He feels something spark under his skin. Something exciting.
It's not the same thrill he used to feel.
It's not the same warmth in his belly.
It's not the same skin under his hands.
It's nice. It's sexy. They move together, kiss under the lights. Ian likes it, likes him. But it's not the same.
Ian had the best, and he lost it.
Maybe it's like this: maybe he'll move from nice distraction to nice distraction, touching and dancing and smiling.
It'll never be the same. But maybe he's meant for just nice.
+1
There's a man in a tuxedo and he holds a hand out for Ian to take.
Ian knows every line of his face, the slope of his nose, the curve of his smile. Ian knows him; Ian loves him.
There are eyes on him. Mickey's eyes, shining with love and tears.
And everything feels right.
He draws Mickey close - draws his husband close - and holds him in purple light, swaying lightly, slowly.
He feels Mickey breathe against him - deep, peaceful breaths. Ian tries to match them as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.
"What are you thinking about?" Mickey asks, tightening his hold on Ian's waist.
"I love to dance," Ian muses, "I always have."
Mickey's quiet. Ian knows he's thinking of snow and gold shorts.
"But I've never danced with you. Before today."
"And you never will again, big shot. Enjoy it while it lasts."
"I don't think that's true, Mick."
Mickey just hums. Ian's right, and he knows it.
He presses his face further into Mickey's neck, breathing him in as the song winds down.
"I love you," he whispers as they pull apart and another song begins. Mickey looks back at him, sees him, and pulls him back in for another dance.
#i always forget how recent same sex marriage is here#like when the show started it wasn't legal in illinois yet#wonder what ian thought of that#😭#this is a very little ficlet so idk if it's fleshed out enough????#sara if you have any other requests please lmk!#i hope this works 🙈#sometimes i kinda deviate and it gets out of control#gallavich#fic#tumblr writing
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