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hidden-poet · 2 months

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Commander Snow; 7

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

chapter 8

Coriolanus threw himself back into his work upon returning to the compound. It meant he was gone early before you woke up but he made an effort to return home for dinner. He was adamant that at least one meal had to be eaten together.

You would take walks often together to get some fresh air, leaving the dishes to soak in the sink after dinner.

There was not much to look at in the Compound. Makeshift tents and metal sheds with big locks. Everything was dull, with the colors matching the small gray rocks that formed the roads amongst it.

Only the men running around in their light blue peacekeeper uniforms offered a break from the monotone of it all.

You watched them as Coriolanus led you through the compound by your hand. They would never make eye contact as they went about their work. But it didn't bother you. The isolation imposed by Coriolanus grew on you. You had gotten so used to only ever talking to Coriolanus, that you weren't sure you could hold a conversation with anyone else.

He pulls you gently out of the way of an oncoming truck and takes you down a quitter path.

"You never ask about your mother," he comments as the noise quietens.

You remain quiet as if you didn't hear him.

''She never visits," he continues, "You never ask to visit her."

You feel your heart rate rise. Surely that has not tipped him off that your mother was safe out of his reach.

"Why would she visit? She thinks you want to kill her. And I know she is fine and even if she wasn't, you would lie."

A loud clanging sound turns his attention behind him, to where a large metal sheet had slipped off a pile onto the ground.

"Would you let me visit her if I asked?"

He turns his attention back to you as the embarrassed Peacekeepers scramble to put the metal sheet back on the bed of the truck.

You wondered if this was your chance to escape. A pass for a day trip to see your mother turning into your disappearance.

"We could go tonight if you wanted," he offered, but the choice of “we” made you reconsider your plan. He wouldn't let you go alone, and you couldn't let him see the empty house.

"No," you state, "I’m tired tonight."

He hums in response. "Let's turn back."

You circle back to your starting place. The walk was halved by your comment. The water in the sink would still be warm.

As you walk up the steps to the apartment you turn back to gaze at the far bins. Your freedom was just behind them but despite only being half a yard away, you were stuck in your chains.

With Coriolanus so close and so fast, you enter back into your prison willingly.

You start the dishes, scrubbing the pans free from their grease while making plans for your escape. Edmund would return tomorrow night if you weren't at the house. But the keys seemed impossible to get.

Coriolanus was clingy. He seemed hyper-aware of your movements. He somehow knew when you were faking sleep and when you had actually succumbed to it. The only way he would sleep was when he knew you were.

You would wake too late to an empty bed and a bedside table void of any keys. Even if you got the keys, it would take ages for you to figure out which one it was. They all looked the same.

As if he could sense your thoughts, Coriolanus came up behind you, taking your throat into his large hand, keeping you from moving as he grazed and nipped at your neck.

"I have to do the dishes," you complain.

''So do them." The hand from your hip reaches between your legs and slides up your dress.

You jolt but his firm hold keeps you still.

His hand goes to where you presumed they would, under the elastic band of your underwear.

"Stop," you command, wrapping your wet hands around his assaulting arm.

He bites harshly at your neck from your rejection, causing you to wince at the pain.

"Worry about the dishes."

He only inserts one finger as he tries to elicit a response from you.

"Dishes," he repeats as you don't move.

You obey and pick up the sponge again, attempting to distract yourself with them.

His lips continue to suck and bite as you scrub the cutting board. It's uncomfortable at first as his dry finger intrudes upon your dryness.

He kicks your feet apart to get better access. The feeling intensifies between your legs and you feel yourself unintentionally getting wet.

He inserts two fingers, feeling you pool, twisting and curling his fingers inside you. You throw the chopping board on the drying rack and pick up a plate. When his index finger drags your wetness up, it drops from your hands.

"I think you missed a spot," he taunts. You don't pick it up again, distracted by the tingling sensation, but he reinserts his finger and curls it harshly to tell you to continue.

Once the plate was clean and you were beginning on your second, he rewards you by coming up and massaging your pearl.

You yelp, gripping the counter of the sink as you try and move your hips away.

The hand gripping your throat moved to your wrist forcing them back into the water, before returning to ensure that he still had free access to your throat. The water from his hands dripped down over you.

You washed the dish but your focus wasn't enough to tell if it was clean enough.

He stops his circling and uses the two fingers to rub along your wet lips. The lack of friction was an unwelcome change.

You pick up a kitchen knife, attempting to wash it but it is yanked out of your grip and thrown back onto the counter. His hand returns to your neck with a tightened hold as he focuses on leaving red and sore marks, all while his fingers run up and down.

"Coriolanus. Stop." You choke out.

He inserts the two fingers but refuses to move them.

You cry out as he bites into your flesh, sucking and grazing the spot just where your neck ends and your collarbone begins.

It gave him a sense of satisfaction as you try and wiggle your neck away.

Your wet hands wrap around the wrist that encircles your neck. You could feel him hard against you as he took a step back, taking you with him.

It was a mercy when he moved his fingers once more, pumping in and out. His lips were no longer at your neck but ghosting behind your ear as you stood, locking your own hands around his wrist.

You could feel your stomach form the same knots that you felt the first night he came for dinner. Half of you didn't want him to stop, knowing the release that was about to occur.

His fingers push harshly up and with force, he circles your pearl once more. A strangled moan makes its way from your throat as the knots from your stomach loosen out.

He pushes you back towards the sink and you grip the edges of it as you pulse around his fingers.

The moment passes and you are left breathing heavily, leaning over the sink. You take the sponge back and begin to wash the same dish as if his actions meant nothing. But your head spun, and you felt so spent the sponge was weak in your hand.

His fingers intertwine with yours under the water and he presses them against the side of the sink together as he rests his head against your back.

You were grateful for the moment of silence to collect yourself.

"I am going to take a shower." He states, releasing you.

You retain your composure until you hear the bathroom door shut, immediately slumping over the sink.

--------------------------

Coriolanus wanted to fuck you, that was no secret. But he hadn't earned it yet. A woman such as you deserved to be laid in more than just a Commander's bed. It was old and reused from the last Commander.

He wanted you surrounded by riches, in the comfort of a brand-new Capitol bed. He wanted to be more than a Commander of this scummy district. When he fucked you, he wanted you to have a sense of pride about who was above you. President of Pamen, or just about.

He had not earned the right in any manner. But one day soon, he would.

Coriolanus was a man of restraint and strategy. But as he watched you make beds and iron clothes, he yearned for that intimacy that only sex could offer.

He wanted to lay naked in your arms and be held by you. It felt as if only then would all the thoughts in his head stop.

You were stingy with your love. Coriolanus had not earned it. But when he became

President, how could you deny him his reward then? He would have exceeded everyone's expectations of him: Dr. Gaul, Grandma'am, Tigris, all of his Academy classmates.

The goal was good for him, it motivated him to work harder and longer. It reminds him of his Academy days when the only thing on his mind was the Plinth Prize.

His mind needed a goal to fixate on. The presidency was all well and good but came with its own problems. The reward laid in the long awaited esteem from those who doubted him, or in your case, ran from him.

He would prove to them all that Snow always lands on the very top.

He would prove to you that he is a man worthy of your attention and care.

But he had pressing matters to deal with. He felt as if you teased him all day long. He went to sleep hard as a rock most nights. He offered you release anytime you wanted it, but you never gave him the same courtesy.

It interfered with his work. He thought about visiting the District call girls but the thought made him sick. Why should he do that when he had you? He had you. Tucked away in his apartment. Ready for him. He just needed to take.

He grabbed the letter that came for you days ago from his desk and made his way back to his apartment. He was self-conscious of his hard-on as he walked through the compound and readjusted his pants.

The sight of the apartment felt like water after a long day in the sun. He took the steps two at a time before regaining himself at the doorway. He couldn't look desperate.

You jump up from the couch as he enters, surprised to see him.

"What are you doing home?" you ask.

His heart flutters at the usage of 'home'.

"Delivering mail."

He holds the letter up in the air, tempting you.

“From your brother.”

You hold your hand out for it but he keeps it high.

“I’ll trade you for it.”

You doubted he would want any personal keepsake of yours. You could see the hunger in his eyes.

You turn back away from him to the couch but he grabs your wrist to keep you. It was an act of desperation that he scolded himself for.

“We can trade the letter for dinner.”

He places your caught hand upon his belt. And your hand stills.

You wondered if you really had a choice. He would just keep taking things away until you submitted. But Edmund would be here tonight to release you. Could you get away with resisting?

You wondered what the letter would say. You were sure it was full of written anxieties from your brother. Could you use the Commander's desperation to your advantage? Your fingers curl around the belt buckle as you think.

He leans back against the counter with the letter still in his hand.

He was desperate. You could see it from the way he clenched the countertop.

“I want to write a letter back.” You demand as you undo his belt.

Coriolanus nods hastily. It gave you a thrill of power.

With the belt unbuckled, you weren't sure what to do next.

He helps you by pulling his pants down to his ankles.

"On your knees,” he instructs.

It gives you a direction on what he wants, so you sink down and open your mouth.

You pull back at first but will yourself to give it another go.

His taste was nothing new to you. He lets out a shaky breath as you finally put him in your mouth.

“Go slow,’’ he demands and you try your best to accommodate.

His length hits the back of your throat causing you to pull off. He grunts in dissatisfaction but allows you to come back at your own pace. His face reads of his annoyance. His features turned to stone, and his jaw locked in place.

But he showed mercy by not forcing you back and keeping his hands wound around the counter.

Now knowing your limit, you go as far as you can before coming back again. It was enough for Coriolanus, who threw his head back and allowed you to take charge. His hips bucked slightly the more worked up he got, but with free movement of your head, you could adjust to his movements. Compared to your other experiences, this one was slightly bearable.

Having been pent up for weeks, the feeling of your wet mouth upon him had him coming quickly. He slaps the countertop with his hand as he comes into your mouth, only stopping when you have stopped moving completely, having taken his full load. You spit it out on the ground that you had just washed.

He remains leaning against the counter as he catches his breath. In no rush to give you what was promised.

You yank the letter from his hand, seeing that it was already open. It read angry. The pen was pressed harshly into the paper, the ink spilled all over the page.

The letter was not addressed to you. It opened with “bastard”.

Archie had promised to kill Snow. You had only called him Coriolanus in your correspondence, so you knew it wasn't only your letter that was delivered.

‘Don't take anything from him,’ the letter read to you. ‘I am coming home to you. I am so sorry. I never should have left. I'll be there soon, stay hidden with Mum.’

You turn to Coriolanus with anger, "What did you do?"

He stood in the kitchen, fully dressed again.

"I introduced myself."

"As Commander Snow?" you seethe.

''As your man. Your letter made it seem as if I was a friendly neighbor."

“You son of a bitch. Archie-"

"He'll kill me, yes I know. I read it."

"Archie will kill himself! And it will be your fault!"

"His life or his death, I can't imagine which is worse."

You slapped him for the way he spoke about your brother and instantly regretted it.

Within a second, he had you slammed against the fridge with his hands around your throat. The hold presses against the bites from the previous day.

"Get off of me,” you demand. The bites upon your neck felt like fire as he pressed on them.

He doesn’t move and you bring your hand across his face once more. He remains unmoved by your action and you attempt again. This time he catches it in a painful hold and twists your wrist away from his face.

You shout from the pain but he doesn’t release you.

With a harsh shove against the countertop, the strain on your wrist is gone.

He looks at you as you nurse your wrist and feels a pang of guilt. He thinks of someone saying something about Tigris. He surely would have killed them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about your brother. I didn’t mean it.”

He did mean it, but he loved your devotion to your family. You both shared the same values, he shouldn’t be training you out of them.

It wasn’t Archie’s fault he was born District, but to die District would be beyond pathetic.

Even the Plinths made it out, and when Coriolanus was stripped of his Capitol-born rights, he too fought to make it out of District 12. Archie had only swapped one district for another. It was pitiful at the very least and embarrassing at the most.

But he was your brother, whom you loved, so Coriolanus will watch his tongue around you.

“Are you alright? Do you need some ice?” He reaches out to inspect your wrist but you yank yourself away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I want to help you.” It was the first time he had hurt you for something that wasn’t your fault. It made him feel terrible. He wasn’t a violent man, only a man capable of violence. He didn’t want you to think he was against you.

“Go away.” You push past him to get to the bedroom, where you slam the door behind you.

He goes back to his office to let you cool down. He apologized, what more did you want?

—------------

You wait by the window for Edmund. You felt foolish that you failed to get the keys. But since the Cabin, Coriolanus has harbored a quiet distrust of you. Every extra precaution was taken. You had learned that a 15-minute window of time opened just before Coriolanus normally finished for the day. Everyone was trying to avoid the path of the Commander as he made his way to his apartment. It was a blessing that he was so avoided, it gave Edmund a chance to appear.

You saw his shadow approaching with something large in his hands.

He calls out to you and you are quick to answer.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'll be better once you open the door," you admit. Your wrist still hurts from the afternoon.

He asks you to stand back away from the door, and you take three steps back.

You hear a loud banging noise, the sound of wood cracking but no spring of the door.

You felt as if you might throw up from the anxiety. He was causing so much noise, surely someone was going to hear it.

He curses but tries again.

You place yourself by the window to see what he was doing. He was trying to pry open the door with a large crowbar. It cracked the wood and left enough damage that the door would jiggle but not open.

A building light flicks on down the road. You can see a shadow of a man as he searches for something before his body appears in front of the doorway.

A flash of light jiggled as it made its way across from the Compound.

"Edmund, someone is coming," you warn.

He ignores you, continuing with the door.

"Edmund, you have to leave!"

"We won't get another chance." With more force, he tries to pry open the door.

You can see the light getting brighter as it approaches.

"He'll move me. So long as I am not trapped here, I can make my way through the fence".

"You were wrong last time."

"Edmund if you die, I'll never get out of here. Wait for me at home. I can make it, I know it".

He grunts as the crowbar slips from the door. Looking over his shoulder, he realizes that he isn't going to get it open in time.

"I won't know where you are!" he cries.

"Don't come back. Just wait for me. There will be an opportunity".

Edmund could hear the footsteps on the gravel. He had to leave now.

"Go," you encourage him.

He climbs down the railing, dropping to his feet and hiding in the darkness before the man reaches the steps.

A Peacekeeper examines the door before speaking into his communicator. A large siren sounded through the compound filling you with dread. They were locking the place down with Edmund inside.

"Miss?" the Peacekeeper knocks on the window, "Are you okay?"

You knew as soon as that man spoke into his communicator, Coriolanus knew of the events.

Could you take cover for Edmund? Tell Coriolanus that it was you who did the damage. No. The damage was on the outside.

Could you start a fire and tell him that it was a peacekeeper trying to break down the door to release you? But why would the peacekeeper run? He would surely press to find out who it was.

You wished that sound would stop so you could think. All you could hear was the siren, ringing through your head.

"Miss?" the Peacekeeper asks again.

“Yes. Fine.” you dismiss. You could feel your heart in your throat.

The Peacekeepers were quick on their feet. In two minutes, swarms of them combed through with their guns raised. Coriolanus was close behind, you could hear him running up the steps past the Peacekeeper.

He unlocks the broken door, leaving the keys in the keyhole as he rushes over to you.

He takes the back of your neck and presses it into his chest, using the other hand to press against your back.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"She's fine, sir. I was ensuring the assailant didn't come back." the Peacekeeper spoke out of turn.

Coriolanus let go of you to take hold of the man's shirt and pushed him against the wall.

"What was he doing here in the first place? Where were you?"

"I don't know, sir. I was in my office. It's really the patrolls fault." The man looked like all the blood had rushed from his face.

Coriolanus throws the man out the door by his shirt. He lands harshly on the ground.

"I want him found," he demands.

The peacekeeper nods his head and rushes to get up and away.

Coriolanus turns back to you and you expect harsh treatment but his hands softly cup your face.

"Did you see what he looked like?"

You knew it wouldn't take much for Coriolanus to figure out it was Edmund, so you lie and pray it doesn't get anyone into trouble.

"He was short. Long dark hair. I don't know, it was dark and I was scared."

He pulls you back to his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head.

"If you're ever in danger, you hide, okay?"

You had tried that but he found you within days.

"I didn't know if you were okay, " he spoke softly. You almost didn’t hear him.

Peacekeepers shout and you jump thinking that they have caught Edmund. You tear free of Coriolanus and rush out to see that the men are fighting over a flashlight.

Your relief came out in a sob. You silently beg for Edmund to be okay. The anxiety of him being found poured out from your eyes in the form of tears.

It was a good display for Coriolanus, who thought you were crying out of trauma from your supposed break-in.

He takes you by the shoulders and leads you back inside.

"You're safe. We'll find him," he promises.

With his hold, he presses you back against his chest.

He kisses you and you sob against him. Your lips part against his as you croak out a cry.

"Shh, it's okay,", he presses your face back against his shoulder to collect the tears.

You will yourself to stop. Edmund was safe, they hadn't caught him, he must be beyond the fence line by now.

You settle with three big breaths and Coriolanus pulls away to look at you.

"Okay?" he asks softly brushing away your tears.

"Yeah," you sigh, bringing your hands up to rub your eyes.

You pull away from Coriolanus as three Peacekeepers arrive at your door. They carried large cases and were dressed in protective gear.

Coriolanus takes your hand in his and gives a nod to his Peacekeepers, giving them the go-ahead to begin their work.

“Who are they?” You ask, watching one man run a blue light across the surface.

“Forensic crew.”

Panic rushes back up but you shove it down. Edmund hadn’t touched the door. Only the railing as he jumped but many others had covered his prints with their own since then.

You feel his hand take yours in a possessive hold.

He leads you down the steps and through the sea of Peacekeepers.

Officers with sniffer dogs pass you. You reassured yourself, it was nothing Edmund couldn’t handle.

He leads you to his office. It was dark and soulless.

Closing the door behind you, he turns to you once more, trapping your head between his hands, and forces a kiss upon your lips.

The kiss spoke of his anxiety; it was needy and possessive.

You try to pull back but he follows the distance you try to separate.

You try to speak his name to warn him to get off you, he sees it as an opportunity to capture your tongue.

When he does pull off, you turn your head quickly.

“You’re okay,” he comments.

“I am okay.” Wrapping your hands around his wrists you gently pull him off from around your head.

He goes to kiss you again but you are too quick for him.

“Do you have any water?” you direct.

He pauses with his head half-bent to your height.

“Yes. I’ll go get some.”

With a gentle touch to your shoulder, he leaves you in his office alone.

You think about making a run for it while the coast was clear but with the Peacekeepers searching, you wouldn't make it to the fence without detection. Tonight you had little chance of escaping, tomorrow was the better option.

The large office was eerie. The paper he was working on was thrown to the ground in his hurry. You asked yourself why you were picking it up but your nature just called for it. You looked after people. You never thought it would become your downfall.

He returns as you straighten his desk. The sight causes him to smile.

“I thought you might be hungry.” He holds up a military packet of savory biscuits. They were used for long journeys where fresh food was hard to come by.

Unscrewing the lid, he passes you the bottle and places the biscuits on the desk.

“I am not. Thank you.” The anxiety of the night ate away at your stomach. Even if Edmund got beyond the fence you were sure that Peacekeepers had been sent beyond the compound. Still, you had faith. He was smart and knew District 12 well. He would be okay, but only if you could manage not to blow his cover.

Coriolanus unbuttons his Commander's coat with his long fingers.

“Of all the places I thought you would have been safe, the Commander's apartment was my first choice.”

“I was safe,” you contend, “He didn’t get through the door.”

“How did he get in?” Coriolanus sighs, “Another hole in the fence?”

He was talking to himself but you felt the need to interject.

“His clothes looked torn. Maybe he climbed over top.”

He looks at you like you said something incredibly stupid. With the fence being 12 feet tall and wrapped in barbed wire, it properly was.

Coriolanus takes your shoulders into his hands, bending down slightly to your height.

“I don’t want you to worry about this. It won’t happen again.”

You place the water bottle down on the desk too hard, “I am not worried, and I am not hungry. I am fine.”

He takes your hand in his and pulls you along to the couch.

“We’ll sleep here tonight. They won’t be done until late.”

You couldn’t escape anyway. It didn’t matter where you slept.

You sink into the soft material of the couch. Another one sat directly opposite against the wall. Given the small space, it would be logical that you take one and Coriolanus would take the other but you knew he was going to want to share.

He bends down and begins to unlace your boots for you.

“Do you often wear boots in the apartment?” He throws the boot over his shoulder, eyeing you suspiciously. You knew the answer was no, you don’t wear your boots in the apartment. They hurt your feet after long periods of use. Coriolanus also knew this. He would trip on them coming home, or accidentally step on your bare toes with his big boots as you maneuvered away from him.

“I wanted to be ready for our walk,’’ you lie.

He seems to buy it, rising from his spot with no harsh motions.

Instead, he rubs his hand across his face.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you this afternoon, and I didn’t mean for you to be bait for zealous rebels.”

“Coriolanus, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“I want to talk about this. When I got the alert today, all I knew was the door had been broken, I didn’t know if they had gotten in. If you were safe.”

“Well, I am so…”

“And if you weren’t?” He pauses for a second before continuing,

“I’ve lost many things in my life, I won’t lose you.”

The promise sounded like a threat upon your ears.

Edmund had emasculated Coriolanus today. Made him feel as if he looked inadequate in your eyes. He was determined to prove himself to you. That he could and would, protect you better from now on.

“Nothing happened,” you spoke slowly and softly to him.

“I don’t want you to think I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t.”

Coriolanus sits down beside you on the couch.

“There’s paper on my desk you could use if you wanted to write that letter to your brother. Write one to your mother too. I’ll mail them tomorrow with a few panems. Would you like that?”

Protecting you meant protecting your family too.

Nodding your head, you take his invitation and take a blank piece of paper off his desk. He follows you off the couch and offers his office chair to sit in. Several pens were thrown around the desk, you pick up the black pen closest to you and begin to write as Coriolanus puts away files that he was done with.

The paper had the national Panem letterhead, it distracted you while you penned your letters. You wrote the first one to your brother, telling him to keep a cool head. Everything was under control. He must be grateful to be out of the mines. People disappeared all the time up in the mountains. You heard news that two miners went missing and were yet to be found. You were happy he was in District 8. He must stay there. Your family was always worried when he went to work in the morning, now everyone knew where he was: Safe in District 8. There was no need to come back, only to remain where you knew he was safe. All his friends from the mine wish him well and take turns in looking after mother. You finish by telling him to stop being so stubborn and take the money to look after himself.

The second letter to your mother was shorter and superficial. She wasn’t home to collect it. It just needed to appear like she was.

Coriolanus reads over your letters before sealing them with an official seal and a few coins. He leaves them on his desk to mail tomorrow.

You could still hear the Peacekeepers outside the window. Their vans and heavy boots and hard way of talking.

They still hadn’t found Edmund. You could sleep now knowing they weren’t going to.

For a few more hours, you remain up with Coriolanus. He talks of his family back home. How Tigris quit her job and now could focus on her designs. She was going to send you a few new dresses. You learned he called his grandma, ‘Grandma’am’ due to her upper-class upbringing. He talked about how she would dress Coriolanus like a doll, pre-war, and show him off to her friends. She grew roses of all colors. He was surprised to learn that you had never seen a rose.

“I suppose you wouldn’t have.” District 12 was bare and colorless. There was no place for fine roses amongst the suffering. The Snow penthouse is full of them, he says. Replaced daily with fresh ones.

When there was a lapse in his talking, you suggest that perhaps it was a good idea to catch a few hours of sleep before he was woken with news of the capture. In framing the suggestion for his benefit, he was much more agreeable.

He takes off his white t-shirt and pants, leaving him in his underwear before joining you on the couch. He needed to feel your warm skin against his after today. Despite not deserving it.

You are pressed between the back of the couch and Coriolanus. He looked to be sleeping but you could tell from his breathing he wasn’t.

The silence shared between you was interrupted by your gnawing question.

“Did you find what you were looking for out in the woods?”

“No. But the trip did give me closure.”

“Will we have to go again?” you wonder.

“No. It’s in the past now. The future is all that matters.”

The future for him was the Capitol. Where he would prosper and you would wither.

“I can’t go to the Capitol, Coriolanus,” you whisper. You were hoping he would realize it and set you free of his own accord. You could part as estranged friends.

His eyes shoot open to look at you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers back, “Everything is going to be okay. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

You could appreciate that his words were supposed to be comforting but what good were his promises? They were nothing you could truly trust.

His lips hit the bottom of your chin in a quick peck.

You wondered if he could feel the wetness of your cheeks from where he lay.

“You’re my girl, I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. You’ll see, you’ll love the Capitol.”

Your answer was given when he wiped away a running tear from your cheek.

“We will turn our back on District 12. The Capitol is our future.”

You nod in the hope of getting him to stop talking. It works, and the silence returns.

He wraps his arms around you as you sleep. You wrap your hand around his dog tags. It felt as if your brother's courage was radiating off it. You would survive Commander Snow.

You wake the next day with Coriolanus’s Commander coat on top of you. Coriolanus sat at his desk writing a letter. His ears pick up on your movement. And he rises himself to see you sit up on the couch.

“Good morning.” he greets, getting up himself.

He flicks the leftover coffee from his cup into his waste bin and refills it from the streaming pot.

You watch him walk over to you with it in his hands.

“Here,” he says, carefully passing you the cup.

“Did they find him?” You take the cup but not a sip.

“No. But they are still searching.”

Your heart bounced up from its anxiety.

“Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. It was probably a young boy searching for food. I had dinner ready, he could properly smell it.”

Coriolanus begins to pace in front of you.

“I am going to make an example out of him. Make sure everyone in the Districts thinks about starving to death before entering the Compound.”

“A hungry child is no need for alarm.”

“What if he had gotten through the door? These Districts are animals. He would have hurt you.”

Coriolanus cringes at his words, “I didn’t mean you. You are not an animal.”

“Yes, you did.” You rise from the mattress.

“No. I didn’t.” he grits.

“You treat me like an animal. Sit, eat, stay.”

“I don’t want to fight with you.” he dismisses you with a wave of his hand.

You had no interest in arguing with him either. Time was of the essence. You had to get back before the door was fixed and you were locked back up.

He returns to sit at his desk. He had work to do.

“I’ll go home and make breakfast. Bring something back for you.”

Goodbye Coriolanus, you thought.

“No.” he looked at you like you were crazy and you stared back similarly.

“No. You’ll stay here with me until he is caught.” He sits back down at his desk but you remain frozen in the middle of the room, “Or maybe you’ll just stay here forever, seeing as no one in this District seems to have a clue where he is.”

You had thought that the broken door would offer you freedom but it seems to have just caused Coriolanus to tighten his grip.

“I can’t, I have to, I have to-” your panic interrupted your sentence.

“You have to do, what? The dishes?” he mocks, “They can wait until we go home.”

He returned to his work, the conversation was over for him.

“I want to go back and take a shower and-”

He pushes his heavy folder over the edge of his desk.

“I’ve had a District break into the compound, new of which will makes its way back to the Capitol, I’ve got recruits coming and nowhere to put them, and lieutenants who can’t read. I just need you to be perfect today.”

He shuts his eyes and sighs, pausing for a moment. “Please, I just need to know where you are today. That you're safe. If you’re here, you’re not another thing on my mind.”

You wanted to kick and scream but it would only end with a bruised cheek. He wasn’t asking you to stay, he was telling you. District scum were only animals for him to herd. You just so happen to be his favorite sheep.

So you sit back on the couch and he reaches for his work and not your throat. Maybe he would send you to get something. A cup of tea for him, deliver a message, you would take any opportunity.

You lay down on the couch, back under his coat to keep warm, and he goes back to his work.

An hour later, his receptionist appears holding two metal trays of food. He greets her as she enters, and she offers the same back. You don’t exist. She doesn’t look at you once while she is in the room. You pass her as you make your way to the desk. She deliberately checks her red nails.

A gray-looking porridge, a slice of jam toast cut in half, and a cup of broth sat on the tray.

“I can see why you glorify my cooking.”

“I used to eat boiled cabbage and potato peels every day back home. When I came to District 12, I thought these meals were just great. Now I have you, and these meals make my stomach turn.” He pokes at the porridge with his spoon, “You’ve spoiled me.”

“I can still go and make you something.” you offer. The second you were out of view you were going to bolt to the fence.

He shakes his head ‘no’ and you sink into your chair. He felt clingy today, almost as if he could sense your plan to leave him.

“I need a reminder of the dangers of complacency.” He shovels a spoonful into his mouth. You choose half of the jam toast.

“How are you feeling after last night?” he takes the toast from your hand despite having his own in front of him.

“Fine.” You wished he would stop bringing it up.

“I am sorry he got so close.”

“These animals are my people. He wouldn’t have hurt me even if he got in.”

“I told you I wasn’t calling you an animal, and yes, he would have hurt you if he got a chance. You don’t know what people are capable of.”

The whole world is an arena and you are prey, he wanted to say.

“People are good.” you refute, although you are unsure if you believe that anymore.

Coriolanus definitely didn’t believe it. People were animals that needed the threat of violence to keep order. He thought back to a day during the war when he had collapsed in the street with swine flu. No one stopped to help a young child. Only Tigris, sick with the chills herself, picked Coriolanus up and nursed him back to health. He was sure you would too. You had picked up the child with the scraped knee while others walked around him.

“You are good. You are kind. The people around you were using you for their own benefit.”

“And you’re not?” you bite.

“What benefit would that be? A bruised eye? A fight every time I try to connect with you?”

You groan, rubbing your face aggressively with your palms. At this rate, he was likely to throw you in the compound jail. A fight with him would only derail your plans. He said it himself, complacency blinded him.

“I am sorry,” you sigh, “I didn’t sleep well on that couch. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

He reaches across the table to intertwine with your hand.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you finish your breakfast and go lie down again.”

You do finish your breakfast in a comfortable silence. Coriolanus was happy to be apologized to, and you were happy not to further the conversation that would surely turn into a fight.

You lay looking at the roof while Coriolanus tries to be as quiet as he can.

You barely hear him as he works. A stroke of a pen here, a shuffle of a paper there.

You think of Edmund and your mother. They would both be worried sick. But how could you get to them with Coriolanus breathing down your neck? By the time you broke free, would the Peacekeepers have found the hole in the fence?

The phone rang once before he could get to it. He speaks in a low, hush, tone. Seemingly calm he hangs up.

You hear his footsteps as he walks over to you causing you to sit up to see him come into view.

When Coriolanus raises his hand and brings it down upon your cheek with enough force to knock you to the ground, it surprises you.

“Edmund’s hair was found between the hinges of the door.”

He stood above you tall and angry.

“He and his family are nowhere to be found, along with your mother. But I suspect you already knew that.”

He crouches down and takes a harsh hold of your chin, “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” Your answer earns you another smack to the face.

“I don’t know,” you cry, “I honestly don’t know.”

“Short with long dark hair, you said,” he laughs humorlessly, “I should have known it was him.”

“He came to say goodbye. I wasn’t going to leave, I swear.”

“Why should I believe you? Every chance you get you betray me.” He shoves your head out of his hold.

You shake your head ‘no’, and cautiously test how far he was willing to allow you to get up. You managed to a sitting position on the floor before you saw his body flex. You were level with his face. The proximity puts you on edge.

“He broke the door to say goodbye. You honestly expect me to believe that?”

“I meant what I said in the cabin about one more chance. I wasn’t going to leave. I told him I wasn’t going.”

“Why not tell me that? Why lie?”

“I didn’t want to upset you. Coriolanus, I didn’t betray you.”

“You’re a filthy liar.”

You shake your head ‘no’ frantically.

“Where has he gone to?” he asks again.

“Coriolanus, I wasn't going to betray you. I was going to stay!”

“Where is he!” he shouts in your face.

“I don’t know. Please-”

Your shaky hands take his face between them.

“I wasn't leaving you. I swear.”

He looks at you with soft, unsure eyes. You could tell he wanted to believe you. You just had to push him a bit further.

You bring his head towards your collarbone and he willingly follows, bringing the whole force of his body against you. The weight knocks you down on the floor, where he rests on top. You leave a hand on the back of his neck and the other pressed down on his shoulder blade to keep him there. In this position, you had the power. He positions his body on top of you, his leg over your hip and left arm over your shoulders.

He felt like a little boy pressed against your side. Nevertheless, it was the Commander.

Your face pounds from earlier assaults as a reminder.

You eye the door from where you lay on the floor.

“You were going to leave,” he sounded almost to be crying.

“I wasn’t. I was going to stay.”

“It was a mistake. I am going to find him and hang him up.”

He goes to get up in his anger but you clamp down on your hold.

“I didn’t leave you. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He breaks free enough to raise his head over you.

“You would have if he got the door open.”

“No.”

“The doors open now. You could leave. I wouldn’t stop you.” He rolls his body off yours and onto the floor beside you.

He seemed earnest. You would at least get a head start. But you couldn’t be fooled by your eagerness.

“Go.” he offers.

You sit up beside him and look at the door. His violent temper made him poor company, but you could control it. Manipulate it until the opportunity arises, where you could get more than a 30-second head start.

“I heard there was a drink in the Capitol that tastes like apple pie.”

“There is,” he replies indifferently.

“Do you think I could try it when we get there?”

He turns his head towards you with a curious gaze.

“It can be the first thing you have.”

Taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

@aleemendoza2425-blog

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@aleemendoza2425-blog

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #hunger games #dead dove do not eat #commander snow

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myladysapphire · 6 months

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The spoils of war

Being a woman on the loosing side of a war was never a good thing. And when you are the only daughter of the looser it can mean one of two things, either death or marriage, and for lucky for y/n, Aegon was in need of a wife.

word count: 2,665

CW: MDI 18+, incest, angst, smut, forced marriage, unrequited love, jelousy. p in v, fingering, loss of virginity, oral (f reciving), no happy ending

Fem!reader x Aegon ii Targeryen and past fem!reader x Aemond Targereyn

a/n Aegon isn't a r*pist in this fic

Masterlist

Being a woman on the losing side of a war was never a good thing. Death always followed war, but so did marriage. and Marriage was what you now found yourself facing. Though you had begged for death, the greens deemed it fit for Rhaneyras only daughter to marry Aego.

as a means to oppress the remaining black loyalists.

With Heleana having taken her own life after the detah of both her sons, Jaeherys and Maelor. Aegon found himself without a wife.

And with only a daughter to succeed him, the small council feared another dance should Jaeheara be heir, so they agreed a marriage between you and Aegon would suit the realm.

Though you disagreed, you had been a prisoner in the red keep for longer than you can remember. Having been dragged to the keep by Aemond after Luke's death. Aemond would visit often. You wewre forced to listen and watch as Aegon ruled, as they ridiculed your mothers everymove. You would hear about the death of each of your family through gaurds taunts.

You had seen freedom for half a year when your mother finally achieved her birthright. Had met Cregan, the man who you was supposed to marry.

And then you heard of Aemonds death. Daemon had killed him and died himself. You and he had once considered yourself inlove. Even planned to run away and marry. But after what he did to Luke, those feelings changed and the love and longing turned to hate and anger. And with his detah came relief. She felt one step closer to her mother being safe on the throne.

And then Aegon returned and killed your mother. Burned her alive.

You had witnessed it all, as guards held you back.

Then two weeks later your own grandsire, Coryls Veleryon, came and told you of the plans, the plans he agreed with and even proposed.

He was the only visitor she had had. She had no Aemond to visit her, to eat with ehr even if all she did was spit angry words in his direction.

Then today, after over a moon, you were dragged from your bed and forced before Aegon in the throne room.Your mothers burnt body laid in front of you, wrapped in sheets as if to hide what Aegon had done to her. and your youngest brother, Aegon the younger, in chains.

The green council tood and told you what they demanded, Crolys the main voice among them. It was clear you had no choice but to accept their demands. marry Aegon and become queen, her brother's life will be spared and warded in Oldtown until he was four and ten. If she refused, he would become just like thre dead mother. A burnt body. And she would be dragged down the aisle anyway.

she needed her brother Aegon, he was the only family she had left and it killed her that he would grow up in the hands of the greens, but then again so would her children. The heirs the small council had demanded they have, if not Aegons life would be forfeit.

The small council had left, leaving her and Aegon alone, bar the few guards that remained.

Aegon called your name, he seemed nervous, tired even.

He wore the conqueror's crown, it suited him, though it was not his. But it was clear that the weight of it was more than the weight of the rubys. A weight Aegon ahd once told her he feared.

He coughed, bringing you back from your thoughts. “Your grandsire informed me that he told you of our plans over a moon ago”

You nodded.

“I know this is not what you wanted… that i am not who you wanted, or even - or even the brother you wanted-” he stood up and made his way towards her “but this is for the good of the realm”

You scoffed “of course it is Aegon, no one wants another war.” Everyone knew why you were marrying, it was to be a front of the greens and blacks uniting, of her bending the knee. “I am the spoils of war, Aegon. And when it comes to victory the victor always keeps his prize. And I am your prize Aegon. Not that i had a choice” you tunrened to leave, done with this, you had time. Time to get a letter to Cregan. Some servants were still loyal, surely?

Aegon once again called your name “we wed on the morrow”

Then again, the greens were smart enough to win a war, of course they were smart enogh to marry her fast.

Aegon had alwasy hoped to wed her. And he had hope for this marriage, but not hope for a happy marriage. though he had once hoped to wed her instead of Helaena, and now he was forcing her to marry him. But he did hope it’ll end the war. Hoped that Cregan Stark would stop his attacks and surrender, submit to him and not launch the realm into another war. they had lost too much as it was.

Aegon felt sorry for her. He felt alone but she truley was. Her only family would soon be torn from her and she would be stuck with them, and married to him.

It had never been him for her, though it had always been her for him. from doing everything to gain her attention, bullying Aemond so she would see him as the better brother, from begging his mother and even his father to marry her and not Helaena. From bedding whores who were her doubles.

But for you it has always been Aemond, always been him even when he killed your brother, Aemond still spoke as if you two were soon to wed and that you and him were utterly in love. He had never got your attention, not the way Aemond had.

He called your name again, you were numb, eyes and face void of any emotion. “did you hear me?!” he asked more sternly.

you nodded your head, looking down. “ I understand Aegon.” you said his name so sweetly and yet it was filled with such hate. you had yet to call him King, had yet to fully bend the knee to him.

he sighed “you will have to bend the knee to me before and the lords of the realm… they have all been summoned for the wedding. where we shall pledge our souls together and you shall pledge your allegiance.”

you gritted your teeth, you had never been stubborn, always a people pleaser, but when it came to this you were being… difficult.

he sighed, going to speak again before you snapped your head up. He was close, close enough to reach out and take her hands in his. To hold her close. To-

“Fine! But you must swear to me Aegon.. That my brother will be safe. I - i do not want him in oldtown, send him somewhere anywhere but there. I will only bend the knee if he is safe, and i will make sure he does aswell, and that he sticks to it, if you swear he will not be killed!”

“Of course, i- he is my nephew, and as it stands my heir- it is in the crowns best interest to protect him. Doing otherwise would-”

“Risk war” she finished for him. “I make no rpomises for the marriage, but is shall do my duty.”

It hurts, duty. Their marriage, the marriage he had hjoped for being just a duty. Being a consolation prize for winning a war his mother and grandsire planned and plotted his whole life. And her turning around and storming through the door straight away hurt even more.

She had been given a dress. It was ivory and It was…beautiful.

She had expected green. Something obvious. To get the greens point across. But she supposed the wedding got it across enough.

The wedding was packed, lords and ladies from all over westros, lords and ladies from both the blacks and the greens.

Her grandsire walked her down the Asile.

Aegon stood up there, in ivory, with matching patterns to her gown. He smiled at her. He looked happy as if he had waited for this day. As if she and him were lovers finally getting there wedding day.

The ceremony was fast, a copy and paste of the dozens of weddings she had attend

They had stood before each other, in the eys of the realm and the gods. There hands joined togther, eyes locked. It was intense and fast. Then she was maade to kneel before him, and as she knelt he placed a crown on her hesd, naming her his queen consort.

There was relief throughout the kingdom the night. There wedding celebration turning into toasts and dances of peace.

And before she knew it, it was time for the bedding ceremony.

She was nervous. She knew it would hurt somewhat. Her mother had always had told her. And told her all she would need to know. Ahd reassured her that on her wedding day she would be there, smiling and dancing as she married her love. And yet her mother was dead. Her brothers dead. Rhanea and Beala were at driftamark, univinted as if them coming would prevent the wedding from happnning. And she was not marrying her love, she was marrying her duty. Marrying for peace. And yet when Aegon looked into her eyes as they stood for the bedding ceremony she flet at peace, calm, as if eveything was snapping into place.

He took her hand in his and kissed it, before moving to step down and leave.

Aegon had ordered for no escorts top there chambers, no servants or maids. It was just them.

And for the first time in who knows how long she felt like she could breath.

Aegon looked towards you, cupping your face with his hands, caressing your cheeks. he was nervou, his eyes gave that away. “i’m sorry if this is not the wedding you wanted, or the husband, but i want you to know that you are the wife i have always wanted. i understand why you could never love me back. i have done terrible things to your family and i-“

“not tonight Aegon” you begged, “for tonight let us be husband and wife, tommorow you can be King Aegon, the Aegon who did all of those things, but tonight we forget. you will make me forget” you begged.

Aegon responsed ,not with words but by surging forward with a kiss. Unlike the one in the sept, were it was quick chaste. this was filled with passion, filled with Aegons love for you. There mouths moulded together, his tounge teasing your lip until you finally got the hint and opens for him. she was inexperienced, it was obvious, but you caught on quick. even quicker when his kisses started trailing from your mouth, to your jaw and then to your neck, moving further down until they reached your shoulders. he looked up then, his hand moving to the back of your dress, reaching for the corset. reaching for his laces he gave a soft kiss to your shoulder, before removing the laces to her gown., your dress slowly dropped to the floor, pooling around your ankles. leaving your in your shear underclothes.

“gods”Aegon moaned, before diving back down to kiss your neck and working his way back up to your mouth. you moved your ah do to his shoulders, relaxing more into the kisses, allowing yourself to bask in the pleasure.

Aegon moved down one more, this time he didn’t stop at your shoulder, but moved down your your breast. taking your nipple into his mouth, and moaning at the taste. you yourself moaned in pleasure, you had done some stuff with Aemond, mainly kissing, some touching, even had his head between your thighs. but tonight felt differ t, it was not a differ t lind of pleasure, but a feeling. with Ameond it was forbidden, but with Aegon, he was your husband and deep down it felt right.

moving away from your breasts aemond pressed another kiss to your lips, before taking a step back. you watched as he did, removing his jacket and then his tunic, leaving him topless before you. he was not toned or leaned as Aemond was, but a bit chubby. And yet she found even hotter than the toned body you had once knew so well.

Aegon continued stepping back, but not before taking your hand in his and pulling you with him, towards the bed.

He turned you around, allowing your back of your beds to hit the bed. sitting in the bed Aegon thought you a vision, even more so whn you shyly reached for your small clothes and pulled them off over your head. you were perfect.

he moaned at the sight, before reaching down and pressing his mouth to yours, his hands reaching down to caress your body, the feeling filled with care.

“Aegon?” you spoke up, causing Aegon to lean back and stop.

“what? are you ok?” he asked

you nodded, reaching forward to his breeches, searching for the laces. Aegon let out a laugh, before moving back to take them off. “better?” he asked. you nodded.

he leant down and gave you a kiss before getting in his knees and spreading your legs. he looked up at you a gleam o his eyes, before moving forward, and devouring you. his tounge circling your clit. his hands moved up your legs, leaving goosebumps in there wake. his fingers moved up towards your heat, his fingers teasing your opening. slowly he entered his finger, gods you were right, unexplored.

pumping in and out of you, you let out moans of pleasure, your peak etching closer and closer, before taking you over whole.

Aegon moved back, wiping his face in the bed sheets, before standing up.

you looked at him, dazed.

“we don’t have to go any further-“ you interrupted him.

“i want too” you spoke, almost begging.

he nodded, moving you back, further into the bed.

Moving between your thighs, he pushed in slowly and carefully.

you felt so full, uncomfortable, before it turned quickly into pleasure. Aegon moved slowly, pumping you full, his body pressed against yours, kissing you deeply. before moving faster, harder. moans filled the room, the pleasure over taking them you both as you once again reached your peak, and Aegon let go, filling you with his seed.

Aegon collapsed further into you, both your breath heavy.

“gods” you sighed. and Aegon nodded in agreement.

As the years passed since your wedding to Aegon.

you knew you would never forgive him for what he had down, never love him, not like he loved you.

but you were civil, appeasing. paining the picture of the perfect wife. And Wegon grew more in love.

but deep down you knew that you would never love him, or forgive him, and some part of you would always long for Cregan or mother black loyalist to rise up and name your brother king.

But as you grew older, and had five children, all the image of Aegon, that that day would never come. not as your children grew older. As Jaheara and Aegon wed, and had children of there own.

And when aegon died at the age of 56, from a summer fever, believing you had forgiven him and loved him, you realised that the greens had won. Even as you watched your son be crowned king, and his son after him.

You never got your happy ending, but the history books would right that you did. That all along you were a green. Switching form one brother to the other.

when in reality you still felt alone, and though you died surrounded by your grandchildren and great grandchildren, you died feeling alone, still feeling like the spoils of war.

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

@taragryenmoony @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

to be added to taglist

#aegon targaryen x reader x aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegosexual #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen smut #aegon one shot

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personalpagan · 2 years

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Duality of the Jötnar:

Ymir: Nothing, and Everything. The result of worlds colliding, creating the first being. Ymir came from a world of nothingness. He was one of the sole figures that came from Ginnungagap. That nothingness eventually became occupied by the dismembered parts of his body, after having been torn apart by the Aesir. Ymir went from occupying the Great Nothingness, to being everything that surrounds us: the mountains, the water, the clouds.

Angrboda: The Giver of life, and the Taker of life. One of the foremost Jötuns, and the bearer of some of the other Gods. Angrboda descends from a violent tribe in myth, the Jötuns being notoriously troublesome, particularly for humans and the Aesir themselves. Blood often coats their hands, stains their teeth. Known life-takers. Yet, Angrboda has birthed many of the great Jötuns. From her, we have been given other beings of Duality. Their lives, their power, would not have come to being without her creation.

Jörmungandr: The Beginning and the End. The circular World Snake, who, in most depictions, has bitten his own tail. Serpents are given a bad rep in Christian interpretations of the myths, seen as destructive—bringers of (Christian-inspired, most likely) Ragnarök. But, it is well documented that our far ancestors revered Serpents, and recognized their relationship with life and death. Odin himself needed to take the shape of a snake to travel the Worlds. Their power was immense, and deeply spiritual. Jörmungandr can be interpreted as the World's Beginning and End, wrapped around our Realm in a never-ending coil, his head, the beginning, his tail, the end.

Fenrir: The Antagonist, and the Protagonist. Once a wolf-pup, the very thing that mankind so loves. Our faithful friends, dogs have long since been one of our greatest allies. Wolves are protectors, powerful, and with fur that is soft to the touch. But Fenrir grew too large, too powerful, and the Aesir began to fear him. Fear, as the myth portrays, can make people do bad things. Fenrir is chained, a sword forced into his jaws. A once faithful friend to a prisoner. Circling back to Ragnarök, Fenrir is set loose, seeking his revenge on the people who had ensnared him, having been made into the villain.

Hel: Life and Death. Quite obvious, this one. Half her body is that of a rotting corpse—the state in which every living thing will eventually embody. The other half is a beautiful maiden, reflecting that of a woman in the prime of her life. Hel is the keeper of the Realm of the Dead, the one who we can presume to meet one day. Hel, the Realm, in myth, is a mirror-like reflection of what lies here—life seems to continue on as usual, though this time alongside our Ancestors. The Queen of Hel keeps things in order, keeping the Dead as such, and the living out.

Skadi: Calm and Rage. The Goddess of Winter. If you have experienced the falling of snow, then you will know the quiet of it. The World seems to go silent as the flakes fall, the wind has died down, the animals are hidden away from the cold, no birds to be heard. Nature seems to settle in, and silence settles onto those who will listen. A prime time for hunting, particularly deer, known for their demure ways. Skadi occupies this land, treads the freshly fallen snow in silence, waiting for the right time to loose one of her arrows. But Skadi also knows rage, for that of her slain father. She storms into the home of the Aesir themselves, boots stomping, voice loud, demanding to be heard. A consuming force that doesn’t let you rest until the matter is settled. Only once appeased may the snow fall calmly again.

(A/N: Just a little thing I wanted to write. I've been doing my studying and meditating and was thinking about the Jötnar Tribe. UPG, I would like to clarify. Your experience with them might be entirely different :). )

#norse pagan #norse paganism #heathenry #norse polytheism #jotnar tribe #hel deity #fenrir deity #jormungandr deity #skadi deity #ymir deity #angrboda deity #mine #jotnar

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sephirthoughts · 13 days

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Vincent's New Kid Just Dropped Part XVIIVXV

A little from Nero's perspective. Finally.

edit: added a pic of his arms marks and darkness tentacles cause i really think they're neat

It was an act of cruelty, to resuscitate his body. The cruelest thing anyone had ever done to him, in his lifetime of torture and captivity.

The dearest wish of his heart had finally come true. He had abandoned this mortal husk and they had become one, at last. Truly united, in body and soul. In that moment of sublime joy, he surrendered his entire self, to be swallowed up and assimilated, once and for all, into the one he loved.

Then that fucking red-caped bastard tore them apart again. Ripped him violently away from his other half and left a gaping, bleeding hole in his place.

Now, his every breath was a misery to him. He was shattered, ragged, raw and gutted; consumed by aching, gnawing desperation, that made his bones itch and his teeth feel hollow.

He stretched his jaw, but there was no soothing resistance to push against. He crossed his arms tightly, but there was no reassuring pressure to hold them down. He missed his muzzle and straitjacket. He even missed the darkness and the chains. To sleep away the years in nothingness would be preferable to this waking nightmare, where he was alive, without his brother.

And they had the sheer audacity to say Weiss was dead. As if Nero wouldn’t know it, the moment his only beloved’s soul left this plane of existence. They were severed halves of the same whole. He would know it, if the other half of his heart died. He would fucking know.

Too agitated to sit still any longer, he got up and paced about, from the window to the closet to the bed, arms crossed rigidly, black fingernails digging into the black, tattoo-like patterns that were crawling along his arms, writhing and shifting, in response to his emotional turmoil.

A purple tendril reached out tentatively from his forearm and twined itself around his finger, almost like a pet, nuzzling its master. Then another, and another. When he pulled his hand away, thin purple strands had got themselves webbed between all his fingers, and stretched out between his hand and his arm, like tacky slime.

He scowled and shook them off. They dangled there, for a minute, flopping around and acting pathetic, but when it became clear he wasn’t going to pity them, they sullenly retracted, into the markings on his arm.

Hearing clanging noises outside, he stepped back to the window and peered out, through a crack in the blackout curtains. That obnoxious blonde man, with scruffy stubble and a cigarette permanently dangling from his lip was out there, doing something to one of the rusty old vehicles, that involved wrenches and cursing.

Nero went back and curled up into a ball on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest. There was no way to escape from this place. Not with that absolute monster Sephiroth always around, guarding the place like an overenthusiastic Doberman.

An overenthusiastic Doberman that was also a full-time nanny. What the hell was his obsession with that stupid baby? He had her more than either of her fathers did, and he was always talking to her (half the time in Mandarin), as if she was an adult who could understand him, in any language.

The bandaged wounds in his chest throbbed, suddenly, making him wince and take short, panting breaths. They said the puncture wounds went straight through his back and all the way out the front, collapsing both lungs and just barely missing his heart. They all agreed he should be dead, but no one could figure out what weapon had been used. The prevailing theory was a trident. Doctors were idiots.

When he was considered well enough to present a serious and immediate danger to the stability of society, he was moved from the hospital, to a Shinra owned maximum-security super-prison, where they kept him muzzled and chained up, just like he’d been in the reactor. It wasn’t much different from normal.

But then lawyers started coming to see him. Saying things like ‘not competent to stand trial’ and ‘traumatized victim’ and ‘horrifically abused over a sustained period.’ That wasn’t very nice of them, but he didn’t care what they thought, and never deigned to acknowledge anything they said to him.

Then they started in with the ‘DNA testing has confirmed paternity’ and ‘only living relative’ and ‘father.’ What the hell were they on about? He tuned in for a little while, till he understood that the red-caped bastard who beat him senseless, was also the one who’d dragged him out of there and ‘saved his life.’ And now they were claiming that very same bastard was his father. Which, ironically, made Nero the bastard.

His entire being revolted against the idea, and at the same time, he wondered at the fact that it hadn’t been obvious to him, the moment he saw the man’s face. Crimson wasn’t exactly a common eye color, not to mention naturally straight, jet-black hair, with almost no respect for gravity. The deathly pale, faintly olive-toned complexion and lithe, slender frame (the height seemed to have skipped a generation, but he was only twenty-three; there was still a chance he’d grow a little more). Even the man’s east Asian ancestry was visible in Nero’s face.

Not that he acknowledged that bastard as his father. He did not. Given the choice, he’d have remained in prison, rather than go with him. He was not given a choice.

The prison system felt it was inadequate to handle such an individual, long term, and pleaded the potential for immense casualties, as well as tens of millions of gil in property destruction, should they lose control of him. The insurance rates alone would bankrupt them in a matter of weeks. They simply couldn’t bear the liability.

Failing a death sentence, which they could not impose, since he was deemed insane, and not legally culpable, the court decided that the best way to keep an augmented person in check was another, stronger augmented person, who had already proven himself to be on the side of law and order. Even better, the little walking apocalypse’s biological father happened to be just such a person.

Thus, Nero was remanded to the custody of Vincent Valentine, under house arrest, term to be determined, depending upon progress, behavior, mental stability, blah blah blah.

They didn’t know how to remove his darkness power, so he was put in a permanent neckband, with some diabolical Shinra tech in it, that restrained it somewhat. Then they just sent him away, with the red-caped bastard and his foul-mouthed husband.

The prison system breathed a collective sigh of relief to have that mess conveniently off their hands, and everyone moved on with their lives. Everyone except Nero, who’d had no say in the matter.

Nero, who was now in the cold-sweat phase of a full blown panic attack, curled up in a self-soothing ball, in this teeth-grindingly spacious and airy bedroom, in this sickeningly harmonious household, with his fake family and WITHOUT HIS GODDAMNED BROTHER.

That silver-haired lunatic didn’t count, no matter how he insisted on it. Sephiroth was not his real brother, and he never would be. Never. Nero clenched his teeth and bit back the childish tears, that were attempting to force their way out of his eyes.

Stupid. Juvenile. Weak. What would Weiss think, if he saw you behaving this way?

That thought sliced through the panic spiral, and the iron bands that were constricting around his ribcage fell away. He sat up, taking deep, calming breaths and regaining his composure. He had a responsibility to Weiss. He had to get back to him, no matter what.

Escape was his number one priority, but he couldn’t overpower the enemy, so he’d have to outsmart them. In order to do that, he’d have to gain their trust. Get them to let their guard down. Bide his time and await the right moment. The second they gave him enough slack, he’d slip the lead and vanish, before they knew what was happening.

But he couldn’t suddenly become a model family member. They’d see through that immediately, and the game would be lost. He would have to run cold, take one step forward and two back, let them think they were wearing down his resistance. Getting through to him, little by little.

Just when they started patting themselves on the back, for rehabilitating this poor, troubled youth, they’d realize he was nowhere to be found. He smiled to himself, imagining the looks on their stupid faces, when they realized they’d been played for fools.

Then his smile faded and he chewed his thumbnail, anxiously. The problem was Sephiroth. Nero doubted he’d ever let his guard down, and he could very well spoil everything, if he kept the others on alert.

Well, there was nothing for it. No plan was without its hitch. He’d just have to be extra vigilant, around Sephiroth, and never let the mask show a crack. There’d be no escaping with him present, either, so he’d have to wait for circumstances to line up. When the Doberman was away, the cat could play.

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nakachuchu · 10 months

Text

CHAPTER NINE: PURGE

Salvation Series

SYNOPSIS: The world was at peace.

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 07/30/2023

In less than twenty-four hours, Inumaki Y/N purged the Jujutsu world of the evilest of curses. Uraume and Yorozu, curses who have lived thousands of years, were choking on their own vomit and blood before Y/N could breathe.

Tsumiki was saved by the roll of Uraume's head, thus erasing Yorozu from every timeline that ever existed.

Covered in blood that was not her own, Y/N held all the power that was left in the Jujutsu world, standing on top of the palace next to Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive.

Her goal had shifted from protecting her descendants to protecting the innocents of the world that were the prey of evil.

She erased every eyesore that lingered in alleyways and temples. She had no time to waste and her actions proved faithful.

The Elders of the Jujutsu world had no choice but to step down in the presence of a woman who could command them to eat their own tongues.

While Gojo Satoru never wanted power, Inumaki Y/N had always been in a position of power. The days of being a god to the people had returned.

Kenjaku was defeated by the Six Eyes once again. He had no chance without the Prison Realm holding Satoru.

"You — "

You smiled. "Come back again and you will face the same results. You are destined to fail, Kenjaku, as a worthless, empty object that holds no significance. Die and stay dead. Should you come back, I will open the Earth in half and chain you to Hell and you will face enteral damnation."

At the cold look in your eyes, he knew he could not win for as long as you lived. As his eyes dimmed, your eyes glowed red like the devil. You had an evil in you that was disguised as a guardian to the innocents — you were just like his vessel.

You raised your fist and Satoru pressed his knuckles against yours, forming a fist bump. Satoru taught you that whilst fighting.

"What shall we do now?" you questioned.

Satoru was quiet for a moment. "Have you ever eaten a crepe?"

"I've not eaten a thing since my awakening," you admitted.

"Let's go eat crepes," he suggested, reaching his hand out.

You placed your hand into his, feeling the warmth and softness of his hands as if he hadn't killed many curses in his lifetime.

"We should mourn," you said instead.

"Well, I don't know about that — "

"Mourning is not a sign of weakness," you told him. "It is a sign of respect. No one will say anything if you chose to mourn your loved ones."

The smile on his face dropped. "Has anyone ever told you you're annoying?" he questioned.

"I suggest we mourn Nanami Kento. I heard he was a great friend of yours."

"Yeah, he was."

You smiled. "Then that seems like a great place to start."

Satoru learned you were annoying in your own way. To others, you were this majestic beauty that descended from the Heavens. To him, you were a sneaky serpent who always knew when to strike.

Despite the smallest nagging feeling tugging away at the hairs on the back of his neck, he gravitated toward you like no other.

Despite knowing to an extent how cruel you could be, he continued to bathe in your company because he knew there was no one like you.

It took centuries for the two of you to meet, and he knew the reason for that was because you would have ruled the world had you met his first ancestor.

Unlike his previous predecessors, Gojo Satoru was the first of his blood to possess the Six Eyes and Limitless.

You could have easily overpowered the first.

You were not innocent, despite the persona you built as a regal woman who put family above all else.

You were a bloodthirsty sorceress who wanted to do whatever you wanted to. You came from a time when the freedom of women was not allowed, but now you would ensure your own freedom.

Satoru and you stopped by a flower shop and bought a bouquet before appearing in front of the grave site.

The two of you approached Nanami's grave, but you lingered slightly behind to give Satoru space.

You closed your eyes and listened to the soundless winds. The world of Jujutsu was slightly more at peace now.

Satoru stood before the gravestone, his heart heavy with a mixture of sorrow and regret. It was a daunting task for a man who struggled to embrace vulnerability.

As he gazed at the engraved letters spelling out Nanami Kento's name, memories flooded his mind. He wasn't even able to be there for this death.

You peered at him. "Do you require more time?"

"No," he replied. "I got enough time. "Come on, let's go get those crepes. I know a great little cafe nearby."

You nodded, a hint of sadness still in her eyes.

At the cozy crepe cafe, the sweet aroma of baking batter and fruit filled the air. Satoru insisted you try a little of everything - nutella, strawberry, lemon, and sugar.

With each bite, he watched your eyes light up.

"This is marvelous," you said after tasting the strawberry one. "I've never had anything like it."

Satoru grinned. "I figured you'd like it. There's a whole world of new things out there for you to experience now." He paused, thinking of those who wouldn't get to see this peaceful world.

Noticing his change in mood, you set your spoon down.

“It's okay to still feel grief, even during moments of joy," you said gently.

He pursed his lips. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

After finishing their crepes, the two of you took a stroll through the city. Though you watched the world through Toge’s eyes, the modern world still amazed you.

"Can we try that?" you asked, pointing at a vending machine.

You walked over to it, basically pressing your face up against the glass. Satoru shook his head with a small smile on his face, then demonstrated how to insert coins and press buttons, retrieving a soda for each of them.

Your eyes lit up as the can rolled out. “How cool,” you said.

Satoru couldn't believe that the bloodthirsty god he saw just days ago could hold this much childlike joy from a vending machine.

You weren't so different from him. There was a part of you that wanted to protect the childhood you never got, just like him.

TAGLIST: @phoenix666stuff @sup-zfam @woozzz @yourfavoritefreakyhan @itsmekalou

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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befuddled-calico-whump · 8 months

Text

Hand in Hand (part nine)

@whumptober No. 15: "I'm Fine"

cw: broken bones, gun mention

prev ///// au masterlist ///// next

~ ~ ~

Of all the things Jin expects to find while raiding a Riot Kings' base, Melchior is not one of them.

Especially not a Melchior who's chained to a bed.

When Jin kicks the door in, gun drawn, ready to make contact, he's met with a sharp rattling sound as the leader of the Riot Kings is startled awake.

At first, neither of them speak. It's not exactly the kind of situation you'd have a speech prepared for. Jin keeps his gun level, if only out of habit, as he takes in the full scene. Melchior's sunken cheeks, the dark half-moons under his eyes, the old bruises peeking out wherever there's exposed skin. He's wearing the usual crimson suit, but it's torn and rumpled, and his gaze seems like it's been blunted somehow, like a knife used to chop rocks. He looks half-dead, for lack of a better term.

What the actual fuck is going on here?

There's always the possibility that this is an elaborate trap, but it seems out of left-field, even for Melchior. Why chain yourself down and play a prisoner when the rest of your men are retreating, leaving you behind?

Melchior is the first to break the silence.

"Y-you're with the Fleet," he says, in a voice hoarse and tired. It isn't a question, but Jin nods.

The next words out of his mouth catch Jin even more off guard.

"Arrest me. Please."

This is feeling more and more wrong by the second. Even as implausible as it seems, why would Melchior outright ask to be taken in unless he had some kind of plan? But in spite of his suspicions, Jin lowers the gun and moves closer.

He'll at least do a full assessment before making a decision. Jin gives a sharp tug on each chain, assuring they're actually secure, then begins patting Melchior down, checking for any concealed items.

"Wait, wait! N-not yet, there's someone else," Melchior says.

Jin pauses in his search, glancing down at him. "Who?"

"Wes. Another prisoner. He's... You have to get him first. Before it's too late."

Too late for what? Jin shakes his head, and continues patting Melchior down. "Once I've cleared you, I'll have my team search for him," he says. "I'm sure he can wait."

"No. Please, he's hurt, he--nghh!" His voice breaks off into a barely-suppressed scream as Jin's hands move down his right leg, just past the knee. Jin reaches for his knife and cuts away the pant leg, grimacing when he sees what's beneath it. The top half of Melchior's shin is a mess of swollen skin and dark bruises. Broken for sure, and not cleanly.

"You'll need a medic," he says flatly. If Melchior can't walk, that complicates his exit. He'll have to get someone else in here to help move him. "Do you have any other notable injuries?"

"I'm fine."

Doubtful.

"Please. You can leave me chained up here, but you need to save him first--"

"Save him?"

"Arrest him, wh-whatever the fuck it takes, please." His voice is rising, but it's more desperation than anger, and it's enough to make Jin doubtful on what he should believe.

He's always cautious, always careful. It's muscle memory. But right now, his gut is telling him Melchior isn't pretending. The feeling is doubled when he glances up and sees that Melchior is crying.

Jin sheaths his knife, pulling back from the bed. "Fine," he says, and the other man visibly relaxes.

The restraints are real, and locked in place, and there's no way Melchior's going anywhere anyway with a break like that, at least not quickly. He has nothing to lose by taking his word at face value, just this once.

"Where do I find him?"

"Left of this room, down a long hall. I-it's a locked cell." He's spitting out directions almost too fast for Jin to make sense of, but he manages to catch the important words. Left. Hall. Cell.

Again, Jin answers with a nod. He'll grab a few team members before actually making his way towards this new target. Just because instinct isn't telling him it's a setup doesn't mean he'll rush in without thinking.

As he pulls the door shut behind him, he swears he hears a thank you.

~ ~ ~

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles @shywhumpauthor @whumpsday

#whumptober2023 #no.15 #i'm fine #oc #fic #broken bones tw #gun mention tw #rescue #reluctant caretaker #look guys jin's danger matrix gets a lot looser when nabi's not in the picture #begging #shorter part i suppose #its almost midnight rock on #whump #riotkingsau

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needfantasticstories · 8 months

Text

I’m so happy with this concept and how it turned out. https://archiveofourown.org/works/50927191/chapters/128992918

Friends and Foes

Chapter 7: Banana Cake

(Wind employs an unusual method for a hero to find Hyrule. Sky is Not Happy. Time helps)

“Where are they keeping him!?” Wind stomped his foot. The Yiga soldier before him didn’t react to his righteous outrage. Wind glared and huffed at the captured assassin, fuming.

It was a lucky break, finding the spy as Wind left camp to relieve himself. He’d snuck up on him as the unsuspecting assassin observed their camp from a bush.

The Chain wasn’t exactly being subtle the night after leaving the stable, even Wind would admit; Four argued with Wild about dragging them around without a clear plan, Twilight defending him, Warrior argued with Sky about falling asleep during chores, and Time sparring against dead trees. They made a ruckus loud enough to attract all sorts of trouble. Only Legend , who had taken a sleeping tea at Warrior’s urging, remained sound asleep through it all. Even he’d admitted he’d never sleep otherwise.

Amid all that yelling, the Yiga spy didn’t stand a chance at hearing Wind sneak up.

The other Links had whispered in concern as Wind dragged the spy into camp and tied him to a tree.

Sky fumed, “This isn’t something we do, Wind! Snatching people like this! It’s going too far!”

“Would you rather I kill him?” The sailor demanded, cinching the ropes.

“I don’t like it much, but it's better than what they do to us,” Twilight sighed, arms crossed.

Warrior nodded, brows furrowed as he stared at the soldier.

Wild only watched, his expression carefully blank.

Four and Time looked with concern at the fuming sailor.

Sky scowled at the group.

Wild’s thoughts raced. If Legend was awake, the Yiga soldier would have been a bloody pile on the ground. But Hyrule might be with Sky on this.

Sky paced, picking at his nails and then grabbing the back of his neck nervously as he paced. As the Sailor began to question the captive, Sky stomped fiercely to Time and whispered aggressively, still scowling.

Wind felt no shame.

“We already tricked you into letting your guard down, so spit it out!” He glared. Warrior joined him, looking down his nose imperiously at the assassin.

The footsoldier glared right back.

“Wind,” Time’s deep voice beckoned. The young, determined hero stomped over to Time, who whispered something in his ear.

Wind glared hard at Old Man.

Time raised an eyebrow, and nodded slightly, “If it doesn’t work, we do it your way.”

Wind sighed and nodded.

Time next whispered to Wild, who nodded in answer and scurried off with his slate.

Everything ready, Time approached the prisoner with heavy, measured steps.

He drew his sword.

The soldier closed his eyes, and curled in.

Time stabbed the blade into the ground.

The soldier shivered as it shook the earth under his feet.

(Time prayed Four would not lecture him.)

The Hero of Time slowly crouched in front of the soldier, leaning on his blade. He reached out, and carefully removed the footsoldier’s mask.

“No! No! Don't!” he raged.

Too late. Before them sat a scarred man with a long, narrow face and gaunt cheeks. The heavy dark circles under his eyes showed them someone half-starved and exhausted.

Twilight felt a pang of guilt. Then he thought of how often the Yiga tried to slaughter his brother, and steeled his heart. Wind refused to look, crossing his arms and scowling into the distance.

Wild beckoned Sky to join him. The Chosen obliged, though he looked heartbroken.

“Will you watch the soup for me?” The cook asked. It needed to simmer for the next three hours, but Sky didn’t need to know that as Wild handed him the ladle, “Make sure it doesn’t burn.” The young knight needed something to do, and if Wild understood Time’s plan correctly, he’d appreciate being part of this stage.

Sky nodded, and stirred absently as he watched the prisoner and Time, his face still pale and a little green.

“Time,” Wild called out as he approached. He selected a plate of food from his slate and held it out.

“Ah, thank you.”

Wild hurried away, knowing his presence would make the process worse if he stuck around.

“Do you know what this is?” Time asked the soldier.

“No! And I don’t care! Death to the hero!” he shouted and spat towards Wild as he struggled. His fingers were tied together behind him so he couldn't use teleportation signs, though he tried.

“Do you like bananas very much?” Time asked innocently.

The man glared, “Are you stupid?”

“You do, I take it. Here…” Time smiled, and held up the plate, “...is a banana cake,” he took a bite, “It’s quite something, My wife says it’s the best dessert she’s ever had. We don't get bananas back home, so it’s always a treat when we get some from here. Have you ever had banana cake before?”

“Of course I have! We don’t just eat bananas raw all the time! We make all the best recipes!” He yelled, but he eyed the cake with such curiosity that Time smiled and grabbed another spoon.

“And who makes the best banana cake?”

“Master Khoga… used to, obviously, and we still use all his recipes and there are none better!”

“Hmmm. I bet this one is better.”

“Blasphemy!”

“I’d have to take your word, but I think you’re wrong.”

“There’s no way!”

“Well, try it, and tell me I’m wrong,” Time smirked, and offered a bite to the soldier.

The soldier glared, but now he’d smelled it. He looked at it longingly, and though his glare could probably light a fire if he’d tried, he took the bite. His eyes closed, and he couldn’t help a small smile from creeping over his face.

“Oh, Din, that’s…” He licked his lips,“that’s… I mean that’s terrible! Master Khoga’s is definitely better!” He yelled.

“Really? I guess I”ll have to trust you on that. Still, you look hungry. Would you like the rest anyway?”

Wild stopped Wind from storming over to intervene.

“Hm. Fine,” he huffed, seeing how it made his little captor so angry.

“Alright, take your time,” Time said.

The soldier, who Warrior observed must be starving, ate two banana cakes with Time’s aid.

“Wind, please bring a blanket for our guest,” Time called.

Wind bristled, but grabbed one off Time’s bedroll and threw it on the ground. Time patiently dusted it off. He sat and talked with the soldier as the soup finished cooking. By the time they passed dinner around, Time was cracking jokes with their captive.

Wild came by with two steaming bowls.

“Death to the hero!” The soldier’s neutral face turned to a scowl.

“Is that any way to talk to the second-best banana cake chef in all of Hyrule?” Time smirked.

“Or a passable hearty radish soup cook,” Wild smiled, and handed the bowls to Time.

Time held out a bite for the soldier.

The soldier took it, and it seemed to break the Yiga man. He stared at the empty space between them, and deflated, slumping into the ropes.

“Din burn it,” he said, and he looked up at Wild, “...thanks,” he said, just over a whisper.

“Thanks?” Wild parroted in shock, “For what?”

“Nothing, it’s…nevermind.”

“Here,” Time said, and gave him more soup.

Wild walked away.

The soldier sighed, staring at his feet.

“I get these… pains in my right arm, you know? After so many fights with that guy. And my back… I’m not so young and strong. What does he put in that soup?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. It’s not a magic most of us are familiar with, but I’m guessing your pain is gone?”

“Wish I had that recipe for my team back home. They–” he stopped when he remembered just who his team was and who they fought.

“I understand that. Tell me about them?”

Time listened to the soldier gush about his team, their fights with “The enemy” and the thrashings they endured at his hands, and their many injuries. He steered away from locations and names.

Wild ate with the others some distance away, and they questioned him about Time’s method. He told them what he could, but he didn’t fully understand how the old man had cracked the shell of the hardened assassin so quickly.

Warrior smiled in pride at his friend, how he’d grown up and matured into the kind of man he hoped to become.

Time came back an hour later.

“They’re keeping him in the Gerudo Highlands system, as he calls it.”

“What? Time, I searched everywhere in that place!” Wild countered, “There’s nothing there.”

“He says it’s bigger than what you’ve seen. He claims there are caves inside no one has ever infiltrated. They don’t use the doors; he doesn’t even know where they are. But at least we know they exist.”

“Traveler is the best at finding caves,” Wind sighed.

“I can find them too,” Four assured him.

Time nodded and continued, “Things are tenuous within the Yiga clan right now. Their old leader died while fighting Wild, and their new Top Banana, Master Sooga, welcomed a cult of wizards into their ranks afterwards, led by an old priest named Astor. He’s got the Yiga convinced that Gannon will bring back everyone who's ever died, just like he does for Wild’s monsters. For some reason they think Hyrule can bring Gannon back.”

“Just great,” Wild groaned, “Another cult.”

Time continued, “He says Sooga has been seen arguing with Astor over their plans. We might be able to leverage the division. However,”

Time pulled out three vials full of oozing red and black liquid, each with different densities.

“...these wizards are teaching the Yiga new techniques we should all be ready for, like using malice in potions like these to confuse, paralyze, and kill their targets. Be on guard for it.”

“That’s… a lot for us to work with, Time. I can’t believe you managed all that so quickly,” Four said.

“Just with soup and banana cake, too,” Sky laughed, clearly relieved by Time’s methods.

“And a dash of Wind’s spite,” Warrior said, ruffling the sailor’s hair. Wind shoved his hand off, not looking playful at all. He glared daggers at the Yiga man.

“Je doesn’t know exactly where Hyrule is, and I believe him - he’s a low-rank foot soldier, and he only knows that Astor is planning something at the castle. Didn’t say when. I got what I could from him on that end.”

“What do we do with him now?” Twilight asked.

“Wild, it seems right for you to decide. He’s not repentant, but he could be on the right path, if given time.”

“I’m not sure anyone else could walk him the rest of the way besides you, Time, but… perhaps Impa and Flora should decide. I’ll take him to Kakariko for now. I bet Impa’s got a secret dungeon somewhere under her house.”

“I’ll go with you,” Twilight stood.

They secured the man between them, and he glared at the ground as the three disappeared to Kakariko village.

Wind glared at the empty tree long after they left and returned.

“Hey, sailor, you did alright,” Four assured, “We learned a lot. Let's get some rest.”

The sailor huffed.

“I wanted to kill him,” he said through gritted teeth.

Four was taken aback, “Yeah, I get it, but you didn’t. You captured him instead.”

“I wanted revenge. For him to feel angry. Scared. Alone. I wanted him to feel whatever it is Hyrule is feeling because those monsters have him. And I hate that… maybe I’m not really a hero at all, and Time knew it, and he stopped me from messing up.”

“I don’t think Time’s mad at you, if that’s what you're worried about. Go talk to him. Find out! That’s more your style anyway.”

“Fine! I will!” he stomped over to Time, but faltered.

Time was already lying in his bedroll, but sat up and made room for Wind when he saw the boy’s frown. He smiled and patted the bedroll for him to sit. Wind scowled, but sat.

“I had him handled, you know. I could have gotten him to talk my way,” Wind huffed.

“Yeah? So I ruined your big plans?”

“Yeah!”

“Do you want tell me about them?”

“No!”

“Ah. Well, I wanted to say thank you. I never would have thought to spare one of them, and try reasoning with him, if it wasn’t for you.”

“You–You’re welcome!” He huffed, but the fire had gone out of him. He had no plan, not really, and Time did, so what did it matter if he didn’t get to do the whole process on his own? He had no idea what he was doing anyway. And Time did get the information.

Still, it stung.

Sky, who had fallen asleep with his soup half-eaten, woke up with a cry and tossed to cold liquid into the air.

Wild came to him, “Are you alright, Chosen?”

He shook his head, “That stupid dream again.”

“The ambush?” Wild inquired.

“Ambush!” Warrior bellowed from the other side of camp.

#linked universe #wind linked universe #wild lu #wild linked universe #hyrule linked universe #time linked universe #whumptober #someone besides the chain gets whumped for once once #linked universe wild #linked universe twilight #linked universe sky #whumptober 2023 #Four is very hard to write for me #Legend had to be unconscious or he’d commit more murder #skipwrites

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galacticwildfire · 2 years

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Fire on Fire | Jon Snow

Two

Rhaenyra Targaryen was raised alongside her twin Daenerys across the narrow sea, until a twist of fate brought Rhaenyra to Westeros. Separated from her beloved twin she is taken as Ned Starks ward, isolated in a foreign land. It is there she finds comfort in Jon Snow, Winterfell's bastard, outcasted as she is.

The two grow inseparable, that bond growing into something dangerous as war grows nearer, a bond Ned grows fearful of, yet he can not dare to ever breathe the truth to either of them.

Warnings: not a warning but I had to have Aemon here, he deserved to meet any, mentions of sexual abuse and near rape

Word count: 4k

We ride fast into the morning, and well past dusk, putting as much space between us and Winterfell as we can before dark.

We tie our horses to a nearby tree as we make camp for the night, gathering firewood in a place far off the road to the wall, hidden away in the forest.

"I don't suppose you've ever spent the night in a forest," he asks, knowing well I was raised in Pentos.

"Only when I was being brought north," I tell him. "Although I was chained up with a bag over my head and tossed in the back of a wagon so I don't quite recall much of it."

He's uncomfortable at the reminder of the state I was in when we first laid eyes on one another. "Aye, I remember, the first thing father said when he set eyes on you was get her out of those chains."

"Your father is a more respectable man than Robert Baratheon," I say, not having to hide my disdain for the man with him. "Fourteen years old when he threatened to strike me down with his warhammer like he did my brother. A king indeed."

Ghost comes to sit in my lap, the pup having only been found several weeks ago. "Aye, he is known for his temper."

"As was my father," I say quietly. "I know the things he did, I know he was not a good man but I'll never be able to accept the fate Robert's rebellion brought upon my family. My brother-" I pause, never having spoken of him to Jon before, not truly. "He wasn't always the monster he is, they aren't born after all, they're made. I'll always believe that. He was seven, with two baby sister's to raise and two dead parents. Everything he'd ever known gone. He lost everything as just a boy, it's no wonder he took after my father."

He listens intently, something I've always liked about Jon, the fact he listens. "It's okay to hate him you know."

"I know," I say sadly. "I do, I hate him for everything he's put Dany and I through, even if we would be dead without him." I shake my head, anger boiling within me. "I don't even know if she's still alive."

"You can't think like that," he says, watching how my nails dig into my palm and uncurling my fist. "You've managed to survive this long here in Westeros with a king who wants you dead, if she's anything like you I'm sure she'll be alright."

His words do comfort me, and I hold his hand tight. "I just miss her. When you grow up with a twin it's like- it's like there's another half of you. And to lose that... it feels like half of me is still missing. Now I'm a Targaryen alone in a land I barely know."

"With a bastard to keep you company," he says, making me laugh a little. "If they told me before you came that my one friend in the world would be a Targaryen princess I'd call them mad."

"It's not so mad," I say, looking at our entwined fingers. "As a Targaryen this is probably one of the least mad things to ever happen."

"Well for a bastard it's the most mad thing," he replies. "Or at least that's what everyone else thinks."

I lean in. "What everyone else thinks doesn't matter. Here we are in the middle of nowhere, no one would ever find us." I look to the east. "We could get on a ship, and no one would ever know what happened to us."

He follows where I'm looking. "Except if we were ever found we'd both be executed for treason."

It's then it dawns on me. "I'm a prisoner here Jon. A ward yes, but just look at Theon, it's a fancy word for prisoner."

"Would you go back to Pentos if you could?" he asks me. "To find your sister?"

It's all I want. I can not even begin to think of my life here without her. I cannot let myself have peace until I free her from our brother.

"In a heartbeat," I answer, resting my head on his shoulder, daring to ask "If I did, would you come with me?"

"In a heartbeat."

I smile at the thought of it. "I want to show you what it's like to lay by the coastline, bathing in the sun, to look out at the sea." The thought brings tears to my eyes. "We might have lived a life of exile, but it was never a prison."

His fingers run through my hair. "Maybe one day we will."

"One day," I repeat wistfully as I let sleep take me. "It can't come soon enough."

I stay firmly beside Jon as we're allowed inside the gates of Castle Black, both of us still in awe of the wall. It being something you can never truly imagine unless you've seen it.

The Lord Commander comes, watching us from above.

"Here to join the watch lad?"

"No my lord," Jon says, speaking for us. "I am here on the orders of my father, Lord Eddard Stark."

"Are you Robb?" the man asks, and I watch the way Jon's eyes fall for just a moment.

"No," he answers. "I am Jon Snow, Lord Stark's bastard."

That gets whispers from the men, but the Lord Commander turns his attention to me, still cloaked.

"And who do you bring with you."

It's then I remove my hood, the response from the men being immediate, enough to make jon uncomfortable but my voice is clear. "Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

An old man stumbles forth from the scaffolding above. "Targaryen?!"

It's then a man who I recognise as Benjen Starks comes for us, ushering us out of public sight.

"Princess, I received a raven from Ned," he says, taking me arm and leading me up the stairs. "Come with me."

I reach back for Jon's hand, taking it as we're ushered inside a room with the Lord Commander.

"Many here at the wall were sent here at the end of Robert's Rebellion," Jeor Mormont tells me. "I damn well say half the wall are Targaryen loyalists."

"I- I didn't realise," I say quietly, the thought that some may actually still not want me dead a surprise. "My brother Viserys, he always said the people of Westeros were waiting for us, would raise their swords and rally their armies the moment we arrived back on Westeros soil. But I found quite the opposite."

I believed his delusions until I was paraded through the streets of Kings Landing, the fact I still live is proof enough do not want me dead, but I am careful not to overestimate my support in Westeros.

"Viserys?" the maester says as he walks in. "King Aerys' second son."

"Yes," I say, confused. "He is."

"I believed after my brother's son was murdered, that his foresons had died with him," he says and my heart stops as I realise who it is I am speaking to. "But no, his daughter is here."

"Aemon," I breathe, taking his hands in mine. "I- I thought there were no Targaryen's left."

"As did I child," he says, tears coming to my eyes. "Now tell me, what has come of your brother."

"Viserys he- my mother's guards took us across the narrow sea when she died in childbirth," I tell him. "He and my twin Daenerys, they're alive in Pentos."

"Alive," he breathes and smiles. "Twins, oh the heavens have blessed us. Tell me child, do you share the same face as your sister?"

We do not. Twins we may be, but our faces have never been the same. Something Viserys often commented on, as if trying to use it as an excuse to be rid of me, as if I was some bastard put in my sister's cradle. "We are twins yes, although not identical."

"Describe yourself to me child," he says. "For I cannot look upon you with my own eyes."

"Her face is paler, more full. Our eyes are different, Viserys often said Daenerys has my mother's eyes but that mine were of a strangers," I tell him, the odd memories coming to mind. "The poets would say she is the moon, and I am the sun. Two halves of heaven."

He smiles. "Oh that I would believe, the last daughters of our great dynasty, our last hope."

Tears slip down my cheeks as I smile, looking over to Jon who stands there with a warm smile on his face, and I feel Benjen's hand on my shoulder.

"Come princess, it's late, I need to speak with Maester Aemon and the Lord Commander."

The interruption is uprubt, but I don't resist as I'm taken to one of the guest rooms in castle black. But as the night grows dark and I can hear the men below, can hear them speaking of me in the way men do I look at the bolted door, yet still do not feel safe.

And so I find him.

Quietly I push his door open, unbolted, but as I man he's never had to think of such things. "Rhaenyra?"

"Can I stay with you?" I ask Jon, looking at where he lies in bed. "I do not feel safe with the types of men around here."

"Of course," he says, making room for me and I squeeze in between him and the wall, yearning for some sort of body heat. "You're cold aren't you?"

"Cold?" I laugh quietly as he pulls the blanket up around me. "It's cold enough it's made me realise of all the seven hells at least one has to be here."

He chuckles, his breath warm and comforting. "It could be worse."

"Aye, but I'd much rather be across the sea," I tell him, my fingers stroking his dark curls out of his face. "I don't like this."

"Like what?" he asks, not knowing whose words haunt me. The words of Varys in Kings Landing, this attempt on my life is only proof that he's right. I'm playing this game whether I like it or not.

"Life," I tell him, not knowing quite how to put it. "I don't want to play these games, running from assassins and smiling in rooms full of people. I want my sister, I want to go home."

"You are home," he tells me. "Westeros is your home."

"If that's true then I'd rather be homeless as I've always been."

He lets me rest my head on his chest, running his fingers through my hair. "Aye, but you aren't alone, I can promise you that."

I grip his hand tight. "You're all that I have here, Jon. I have no family, nothing. My only blood sworn to the wall and my sister across the sea. You're the only thing keeping me from throwing myself from the top of that wall."

"Rhae-"

"It's true," I breathe shakily, the thought having crossed my mind more than I could ever admit. "From the moment I stepped foot on Westeros soil I expected death, from either my hand or anothers."

He turns my chin up to look at him, his voice wavering "Rhaenyra."

"When I arrived at Winterfell all I could imagine was throwing myself from one of the towers, until I met someone else who felt like they would never belong." I stroke his bearded cheek, easing him. "Catelyn kept me from the Stark children, but there was one she couldn't keep me from."

The corner of his lip turns upwards. "I'm not a Stark."

"You're right," I say, looking into those dark eyes. "You are a Snow, and I am a Targaryen. Half of Winterfell hates you for being a bastard, the living reminder of Ned's indiscretion, the other half hates me for being a Targaryen, the living reminder of his sister's indiscretion. We are two people the world wishes didn't exist, yet here we are, and they can learn to live with it."

"Aye," he actually agrees. "Perhaps your right."

"When aren't I?" I tease, feeling at ease with him, feeling my body half covering his in the small bed, something that would be scandalous if it weren't us. I'd say he was like a brother if it weren't for the way he made me feel. I trust him as one should trust a brother, but I feel something else entirely.

And I know he feels it as well with the touches that linger, the looks we share. We both know it. Even if it seems impossible. Because deep down despite our dreams, he knows he is a bastard, I know he never wants to father children for the fear of passing on the name snow. And me, I know my fate as a princess, I know the real reason I wasn't killed the moment I was dragged in chains into the red keep. A Targaryen womb is a priceless thing.

Yet when I look at him I cannot help but dream of running away with him.

His knuckle brushes my cheek, and I know how I must look to him here in his bed, eyes wide and vulnerable for him only. The only person in this realm who can see me like us. I know what they call me in winterfell. The stone faced girl. The white ghost. For when I smile it's only ever for him.

My forehead rests against his, nose bumping his, and with my eyes closed it's all I can do not to kiss him. Because the moment I do this illusion is gone. The innocence we can feign, claiming him as the brother I never had. I've said as much to Ned. But we know the truth.

"Sweet dreams," he murmurs, bringing his lips up to my forehead, softly kissing my brow before tucking my head beneath his chin, my face resting in the warmth of his neck, breathing him in.

We spend most of the nights like that for the next fortnight, I spending my days with Aemon while he spends his with Benjen before coming to his room in the night, the nights ours and ours alone.

I almost feel peaceful here at the end of the world, until a few words from Benjen send me mad.

"The king is coming to winterfell."

The king is coming.

Those words instil a fear in me like no other.

The king who murdered my brother.

He is coming.

My time is up. I can't wait any longer. If I fall back into Robert's hands I may never be able to go back for her.

"Then I will not return to Winterfell."

"Princess," Benjen warns. "You are a ward of Winterfell and if you are not there when he comes then every soldier at his disposal will be searching for you to bring you back in irons."

"I don't fear the thought of chains for I've already been in them," I reply coldly. "So let them come! I'll gladly kill the bastards if they can hunt me down, I have a horse and a sword and know my way to the nearest port. I'd like to see them try."

For a moment he looks at me, as if I'm somebody else. "Rhaenyra, please."

"He murdered my father and brother," I remind him. "He would have struck me down with his warhammer in the throne room if not for the outrage it would have caused. I will not give him a second chance."

"Rhaenyra!" he calls out as I walk away from him, half running to my room, in the madness getting my cloak, pulling the furs tight around me before I even realise what I'm doing, but the moment I do I'm securing my sword around my waist.

I jump as the door open's but it's only Jon.

"Bar it," I order, and he does so without question, but still hesitates.

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing to leave."

"Rhaenyra-"

"Robert Baratheon is coming to Winterfell and I've been ordered to return," I tell him, knowing what I have to do. "I thought I'd have more time but I need to leave."

"Rhae..."

"Come with me," I plead with Jon. "Come with me away from this place."

He stares at me in bewilderment. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere we wanted," I breathe, hands clutching his face. "I can't go south, I can't. I won't do it."

His resolve begins to crumble. "They'll hunt us down."

"Jon, please" I plead. "Come with me." I pull the rings off my fingers. "This can get us safe passage to Pentos, to my brother. Come with me."

"Rhaenyra," he grits out in frustration. "All you've told me of your brother is how cruel he is, how he would sell you to the highest bidder-"

"I am a princess Jon," I remind him, not caring for that at the present. "That is my fate-"

"And what if he's already married your sister off," he says, my blood running cold. "You told me yourself he has two sisters, one to sell and one to marry. You want to run away I get that, but to run back to him? Are you mad?"

My face becomes stone. "You know I hate that word."

"The idea of returning to Pentos, it isn't real," he says harshly. "How can you hate Winterfell more than your brother?"

I look at him, fighting tears. "I thought you understood, perhaps I was wrong."

"I do understand," he grits out. "But you can't just run away to your brother who'd sooner give you away to be raped than face the king!"

"Is that what you truly think this is about?" I exclaim. "I know what my brother is! Which is why I cannot leave my sister with him for him to rape or sell to another beast of a man to be raped!" He falls silent. "I will not abandon her! I never planned to stay here, I've been biding my time until I can go back for her, and now time's up!"

His voice is a plea "Rhae please."

"If it were Arya or Sansa would you leave them!" I yell, the pain I've harboured for so long finally breaking free. "If it were your sisters would you! I escaped! I escaped my fucking brother and all I've felt since the moment I arrived in Winterfell is an unbearable guilt of knowing exactly what will befall my sister! Now I'm gone he has to choose if he'll marry her or sell her, I don't know which is worse!"

"Rhaenyra, please," he pleads, trying to calm me down. "I'm sorry I- I'm sorry."

"Do you think he never hurt me!" I cry out, tears catching in my voice. "Do you think he'd never tear my clothes and throw me to the ground just to remind me he can do whatever he wants to me!" Tears wet my cheeks as I struggle for breath. "The man who fostered us put guards outside mine and my sister's doors at night to protect us from him! I don't give a shit about Robert or the rest, I just want to kill the bastard like I should have years ago!"

He pulls me into his arms and it's then I break down, the guilt and agony I've carried since the moment the slavers hauled me into their ship finally crushing me, but he's there to hold me up.

"I can't do it again," I tell Jon. "I can't have another man put his hands on me. Whether it's my brother or a king or a slaver."

He looks at me confused. "Why would anyone-"

"The king is coming Jon," I remind him, breathing in a shaken breath. "I am sixteen, a woman to be wed and with no man to decide to who that burden falls to the king who could have his way with me as he pleases or give me to that horror of a son I hear of." Something in his face changes, like a burning fire beneath stone. "If I go to Pentos, the only man trying to fuck me is my brother, and I know how to deal with him. If I stay here half of the lords in this damned country will want to have their way with me, the last Targaryen. The spoils of war."

His voice holds no hesitation, no doubt. "I won't let that happen."

"How?" I ask him in exasperation. "How can you and I stand against a king?"

"We'll find a way," he promises me, holding my face between his hands. "I promise."

And I believe him.

"I don't trust any man but you," I tell him. "Please, please just don't leave my side."

"Never," he promises me, as if we have control over that. "Now come here."

He holds me tight, but I hold him tighter, clutching onto him as if he's my last piece of sanity in all of this.

When I can finally breathe he brings me to Aemon, I've never had a grandfather, but Aemon has become the closest I'll ever know to one.

"The King is coming North," Jon tells Aemon. "Rhaenyra's been ordered to return to Winterfell."

"The king," he scoffs. "Robert Baratheon is no king. Cowering in the face of a young girl, you know what he did to your niece and nephew." His voice holds an anger I have only ever heard in my brothers. "Butchering them like- not even animals suffer such a fate."

I'd heard they were killed, but never how. "How?"

He's visibly sick, shaking from anger. "Butchered by the Mountain on the orders of Tywin Lannister, their mother raped with their on his hands, the girl- Rhaenys - was stabbed to death, a mere baby while the boy had his head slammed into the wall. Butchered."

Jon's pale with horror while I shake with an anger unlike any I've ever known, an anger that even Visery's pales to and I speak "How do we get justice?"

"Justice," he repeats. "You will find young Rhaenyra, there is no such thing, only vengeance.

"You want my advice?" he asks. "Kill the girl Rhaenyra, winter is coming, and for the realms of men to survive there must be a Targaryen on the throne. This is the prophecy, passed down from Aegon the Conqueror and now to you."

I stare at him bewildered, and it's Jon who asks "What do you mean?"

"You shall see," he tells us. "Once Winter comes, and that day is coming fast, you must be on the throne, you must have the Seven Kingdoms united to face the coming winter if we are to survive."

"I- I don't want to bring war," I tell him. "I don't want to bring death upon the kingdoms for a throne. All I want is my sister safe."

"War is coming, death shall follow regardless if you choose to fight or not," he warns me. "A Targaryen must sit on the throne, if you want your sister safe then you must fight. You must wake the dragon."

I look at the ring on my finger, one of the only thing's left of my mother's Viserys never sold, a ring fashioned from steel, worthless in it's weight, but it carries the sigil of our house.

"If a Targaryen must seat the throne," I begin, knowing it in my gut, in my heart. "Then it cannot be Viserys."

"Remember your namesake," he tells me. "Rhaenyra Targaryen."

I know her story well, a queen struck from history.

What did she suffer for if I would just give it up?

"I need to go south," I realise finally and look to Jon. "Ready the horses."

But before he can go Aemon speaks. "Your uncle has told me of you Jon Snow."

Jon's confused. "He has?"

"Oh yes, indeed," he says, as if there is some great piece of this mad puzzle we are missing. "You must protect the princess, you two must not allow yourselves to be separated. For she is not the last Targaryen, and you must be united if we are to survive."

His words seem to go over Jon's head, the mumblings of an old man, but not mine. I can't miss the strangeness of them, but I can't bring myself to seek clarity, instead I nod and promise Aemon "I won't let our family end with us."

Jon and I walk through Molestown, he keeping a close eye on me, still convinced I intend to disappear to the nearest port.

He grabs my wrist as I step up the stairs to the brothel "Rhaenyra-"

"Where else am I going to find a seamstress in a town like this," I reply and order him "Wait out here."

He reluctantly agrees as I walk up the steps inside, finding multiple men I recognise from the wall inside with women in various states of undress.

A well dressed woman flushes at the sight of me, and approaches.

"May I help you?"

"I would like a dress made," I tell the madam and she looks me up and down incredulously.

"This is no place for a lady."

"I'm no lady," I say pulling back my hood. "The princess of dragonstone requires a dress be made, are you able to assist."

She eyes me in disbelief. "So it is true, the Targaryen girl did go to the Wall."

"And now the king is coming north," I tell her, knowing her ladies will no doubt make the journey for business. "I am sure there must be a seamstress in here."

"Aye," she says, waving a woman over. "She can help yer, what do you need."

"A dress of red and black," I tell her, knowing Catelyn would never let me touch either colour when making my dresses, and so I only wore white. The white ghost of Winterfell some have come to call me. "I want it to be bold enough they'll want to put me in chains."

She nods her head. "As you wish milady."

"Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen," I correct. "It's a name you'll wish to remember."

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pugs-cats-bb-8 · 1 year

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Vanilla 5-Kamoshida

I've only played Royal, so I thought it would be fun to see what they changed from Vanilla.

Note: I mention anytime I see an unvoiced conversation.

Ren should not look so cool standing there all smug and shit.

Also, his coat should not be flapping.

I think there's 1 text bubble in the right-hand corner that didn't make it into Royal. (Ryuji).

Wow, they made Sae's Palace escape longer by adding Sumi. It's also a blocked scene, whereas, in Royal, it isn't.

I will forever love that "See ya". 💓💓

I swear they lost a couple grunts from Vanilla to Royal. Either that or I didn't hear them. Which is possible considering I didn't know what his voice sounded like at first.

The text implies more than drugging and beating went on. At least to me, it does. I hope I'm wrong.

I hate ABC keyboards.

I hate the interrogation.

I think the subway announcement might be shorter and different.

The first Arsene scene might be shorter in Royal.

The delivery guy is not voiced.

I love how long his legs are. I want to climb him like a tree. 😋😋 (I'm 5'5).

I do wonder if his parents actually sent him away or if they were ordered to? Also, what was the relationship like before? After?

Was he actually told anything? Or is it just the trauma? Shujin means prisoner. No wonder he was confused. I would be too.

You still need a bigger dust mop, my dude.

I like his shoes/boots.

Sojiro coming up to see that you cleaned is not voiced.

I don't think he eats for the first day.

Why'd he go home early that day?

I guess he always carried a bag.

How did the ball and chain appear on his leg if he had both legs on the bed thing? He would've noticed it. Unless it appeared as he started to walk.

I love how Igor speaks without hardly moving his teeth.

Some lines aren't voiced.

Christ, I went to a school that ended up on the news for fighting frequently. And they weren't half as shit as Shujin. We had worse kids and they weren't treated like that.

They just snuck Sumi's story in there.

That "oh fu" gets me every time. It's a horrible accident but that line is funny.

Akechi just wants sushi. Poor cutie. I love that sad face. It's so cute.

Another unvoiced conversation.

Then why don't your parents contact you?

I don't think this boy eats for two days.

Another unvoiced conversation.

Why doesn't Sojiro save guys number in his phone?

His phone looks like it has a metal case. Why does he keep it in his pocket at night?

Unvoiced conversation

I think the subway car is a different colour.

It took me so long to find the Ginza Line the first time.

How does Ann fit her ponytails in her hoodie?

My man is politely gawking. 🤣🤣.

What is that "naw" and wave? That is a very odd reaction. I'm chalking it up to Ren's odd and trying to lie low while also being somewhat nice.

Memory problems, trauma, or memory problems caused by trauma?

I love the view from his camera. 😍😍

Slight line change.

My head cannon is that awakening to a Persona is like a very powerful orgasm. +/- actually coming.

Can Ryuji hear Arsene?

Slight lines change for Arsene.

Removed text bubbles for leveling up.

I think they cut the guys in cages voice.

I can tell this is Vanilla. Morgana looks weird.

Unvoiced lines.

I don't think the "okay" is in Royal.

I think it's a slightly different conversation after you get Morgana.

More unvoiced conversations... I think.

Blow the wall up. With what stick of dynamite?

What about Ren screams dangerous?

Said student is standing right there.

Unvoiced conversation.

Calendar sound is a bit different.

Unvoiced conversation.

If Ann had appendicitis she'd be in the hospital.

Kamoshida's eyes look dead.

Unvoiced conversation

I love how in the anime Ryuji's like "What's with those pants? You look like you got kicked out of a magic act". 🤣🤣

Ren's hiding stance hurts my thighs.

I love his voice 😋😋😋.

That safe room doesn't look like a safe room.

The distorting effect for safe rooms when you first walk in is unnerving.

Maybe it's because I have motion sickness?

"What is this"? was added in Royal.

They made the win screen more concise.

Ren's gun had more ammo in Vanilla. I only have 8 bullets. ☹

Gun convo after first gun battle was taken out.

I love the battle before Ryuji's awakening on New game + no matter how much health you have it's scripted for you to fall in 2 hits.

Morgana has a healthy ego.

They might have changed the conversation with Shiho, but I don't remember it. Unvoiced conversation.

I wonder how much this boy eats in the beginning?

I love how the game implies that Ren's too tired to clean.

If it was me I'd clean.

Sorry, my ass. He meant to do that. What kind of school pits adults against children? I mean I don't like Mishima, but really.

Why does Ren take Mishima's place in the anime?

Unvoiced conversation.

I will never remember that 1st years are on the top floor and then it goes 2nd then 3rd. Opposite it'd normally be.

Ren should not look so good in gym clothes.

Unvoiced mission.

Unvoiced conversation.

Ren looks off in the direction of the wall. 🤣🤣.

Unvoiced conversation.

Slight line change.

The school sucks.

He has elf boots.

Different delivery on that line.

"I'll let you go... To hell". I want that voiced.

Hazy effect to safe rooms added in Royal.

Morgana has 16 ammo!?

I forgot Baton Pass used to be a perk.

Morgana just invites himself in. Just like a cat. 🐈

I forgot Takemi's VA changed.

Morgana is a house critic. Although, you do live in an attic.

Doesn't want the cat. "Aw, I wanted to name it". That scene in the anime is cute. Ren sounds so adorable.

"Don't text in class" as she texts him back to say that🤣🤣.

Until about R.3, you don't have much of a chance to dodge the chalk.

Unvoiced conversation.

Different camera angle for meetings.

I think to be a couger you have to be like 40 or so.

I don't think they should make you sacrifice Arsene. Like just tell me how to make new Personas. You don't have to show me. I love Baby Yoda (I forgot his name) in a pot. But I'd like to keep Arsene.

When I said I wanted to hear him speak more this isn't what I meant! I nearly cried the first time I played. I didn't know you could sacifice someone else if you had more Personas. I made sure to get more on my 2nd playthrough.

Also, how do Arsene and Pixie make Baby Yoda in a pot?

I avoided the Velvet Room so much during my 1st playthrough, that I only had 27-30% compendium completion when I finished the 1st time.

At least you can rebuild Arsene from the ground up. (Not too much of a bright side).

Third Eye, or as I call it. "Accidentally" hitting it to hear his voice. 😋😋😋😋. I mean the PS4 bumpers are very hitable. 😅😅😅.

I steal every smashy, item or not.

Ah yes, Ren hides behind a pillar, but the shadow can totally see Ann, Ryuji and Morgana. We're real hidden there.

I hate negations, just give me the damn Persona.

On NG+ I just summon from the compendium based on my level.

Although I did have to negotiate a bit on my 2nd playthrough. For some reason, all shadows instantly joined me when I asked. I ended up with a lot of girl shadows. (I find it funny because I'm Bi).

I love if you shot slow enough. You can hear him.😋😋.

That smirk.😍😍😍.

You can't hide if an enemy is chasing you. No, but you can kick the door open. 😍😍. I like his thing for kicking shit.

I thought those were pots on the shelf. They're volleyballs? I mean it makes sense. But I thought they were small vases or pots.

Different sound effect for pulling the chains.

No 'here is important object' sound. I like the sound because you can sometimes miss things.

There used to be an enemy on the chandelier?

I swear you jump down to the very front in Royal, which means you have to walk all the way back, or fast travel to the nearest safe room. At least in Vanilla, you can climb back up. Although, it is kinda useless because of fast travel.

You got two items from locked chests? The only time I got 2 items from chests was in Strikers.

Unvoiced conversation.

So the "Take this" came from Vanilla.

I like how when he says "Okay". Sometimes he doesn't sound so sure. It comes out more like a question than a statement. It's cute.

Unvoiced conversation.

Beefcake book was added in Royal.

No enemy after you come out of the creepy room.

The ram's head didn't need to lower. Ren could've jumped to get it. Hell, I could jump to get it. (5'5)

Different sound effect for safe rooms.

Unvoiced conversation.

Ann has 36 ammo!?

A maze with red enemies. 😨 Royal has it easy.

Different sound effect when going through painting.

There's chests by the entrance stairs?

*Goes to the fridge* Morgana - "Aren't you tired. You should go to sleep". 🤣🤣 The cat won't let you eat.

Too tired to do the crossword but not too tired to go to the bathroom🤣🤣.

Also, the checking status thing in the bathroom was added in Royal.

So do you go to the school bathroom to check your stats?

It took me forever to find out how to check my stats.

Different question.

I forget you can't dash in the overworld.

Can't buy confidant items at the bargain place.

Are there more locked chests in Vanilla or is because this is my 4th playthrough and I have the perma pick?

Different stairs sound.

"Tampering with the statue might not be good". Oh, but it's safe to head straight into the swinging blades.

"My tail would be in danger". Just keep it down while we crawl.

Royal made the palaces longer by adding the will seeds. They took away a lot of locked chests. I guess they just dumped it all into Mementos.

The next to last chest is before the block things.

That's a weird setup.

I think the enemy is further back.

In Royal, I beat the palace on 18, send the card on 19 and beat him on 20. 21 is my first free day. In Vanilla, the soonest you can beat the palace is 19 (because of SP limitations), send the card on 20 and beat him on 21. Which makes 22 your first free day.

I wouldn't doubt Ren scowls a lot.

"That's not catnip". 🤣🤣 I love that line. I'd like to hear it voiced.

Now's not the time to rank up, Morgana.

I hate Baton Pass in Vanilla.

I like how she pronounces it out.

Did they have to animate his leg hair? 🤢🤢.

Could they please voice the lines that come with dramatic hand gestures? Give the guys some more lines.

In Royal, Morgana tells you to go after the cup and you have to click yes.

"I can create Personas up to lv. -" Was taken out in Royal.

We were totally going to kill Kamoshida. 😁🔪.

"This place is about to collapse". Followed by a scene of Morgana cleaning his face. 🤦‍♀️.

Why does Morgana meow back at them? He can talk.

Unvoiced conversation.

Ren is the only person I know who can make gym clothes look hot. 😍😍😍.

You only had one item on the home shopping network?

Different question and no charm or Ann point.

No got book sound.

Unvoiced conversation.

Different wording on the question.

I don't think being able to brew coffee makes people respect you. Maybe a coffee snob.

Unvoiced conversation.

Morgana will not let you fail a multi part quest. 🤣🤣.

Yes, doing illegal things at a doctor's office. 🙄🙄.

I'm pretty sure he can't just barge in like that.

Unvoiced conversation.

Don't mess with Ann.

Unvoiced conversation.

Why does doing the crossword take up your entire night?

Unvoiced conversation.

Does Iwai call him Detective-san in Royal?

Kamoshida's palace- Not too different. A few places in the middle, one at the end and a couple in the beginning. Prefer Royal.

#ren amamiya #persona 5 #tag game #long post #I broke this up by arc #so if you want to follow it #use Vanilla-Royal #Vanilla-Royal #1/8 #or follow it by the number tag

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 1 year

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3rd February >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Friday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Ansgar (Oscar), Bishop

Saint Blaise, Bishop, Martyr.

Friday, Fourth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green)

First Reading Hebrews 13:1-8 Jesus Christ is the same today as he was yesterday and will be for ever.

Continue to love each other like brothers, and remember always to welcome strangers, for by doing this, some people have entertained angels without knowing it. Keep in mind those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them; and those who are being badly treated, since you too are in the one body. Marriage is to be honoured by all, and marriages are to be kept undefiled, because fornicators and adulterers will come under God’s judgement. Put greed out of your lives and be content with whatever you have; God himself has said: I will not fail you or desert you, and so we can say with confidence: With the Lord to help me, I fear nothing: what can man do to me?

Remember your leaders, who preached the word of God to you, and as you reflect on the outcome of their lives, imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same today as he was yesterday and as he will be for ever.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 26(27):1,3,5,8-9