DOYA SHORT: And the whole world came back

DOYA SHORT: And the whole world came back 

A/N  ‘At times, I forget they are broken.’

 

“I want to save the world because you are in it.” Oya whispered to Dean, thinking he was asleep. He had not had a decent sleep-in weeks, so she didn’t want to wake him up so early that day. Her hazel eyes stared at the ceiling while her fingers traced her scars -a weird habit she took a while ago to self-soothe- she couldn’t say more, because words couldn’t be trusted. Her whole soul wanted to scream her love for the hunter but her lips were tightly shut. Her hair cascaded on her shoulders and back as she sat on the bed, looking at her hands in the bedroom that was merely lit by the moonlight.  Her hazel eyes focused on her hands, on those scars she earned when she hunted the Asanbosam. Her recklessness almost killed her and if it wasn’t for Dean’s intervention, she would have been dead by now.

 

Oya was weary of the good things in this life because they tended to be short-lived. But with Dean things were different. She simply couldn’t let go. Dean was a good thing in the wasteland that was her life and as time went by, her nightmares changed as well. It took a while after the death of the Asanbosam, for Oya to make peace with her family slaughter. She thought that maybe, now that she’d face her pain, the nightmares would go away, but they didn’t, they simply changed. Instead of dreaming of the death of her family, she was now dreaming of the death of the love of her life and her chosen family.

 

Nights and nights of being afraid to lose her three boys that kept plaguing her, even getting more intense as the days went by. Nights and nights of dreading to watch any of them die in front of her, taking away with them a piece of her soul. That night, she was still queasy from the short-lived daydream she had about losing Dean again and it shook her to the core. She should be used to it, shouldn’t she? She should toughen up, be less emotional, be ready to lose him shouldn’t she? Yet, as her hazel eyes averted from her hands to the man lying next to her, she couldn’t help but smile and cry a couple tears. “Because a world without you is not worth living. It’s not...” She whispered and wiped away her tears.  

 

Stupid! Stupid! Oya hated to be this vulnerable but at the dead of the night, when her mind was plagued with fear, all she could do was self-soothe and cry. Her whole body began to shake as she sobbed in her hands. The whole world became darkness and only the pale moonlight that badly lit the room brought a shred of hope into this room. Her muffled sobs were interrupted by a single groan and Dean’s croaked voice “Oya.” And with a single word, the whole world came back.

the Snyder's cut, road to watching the next movie.

 The Snyder's cut, what a journey! 

Alright, I am excited about the movie, as everyone of you already knows. I've tried to shorten the text as much as I could, but it's not an essay. take it more as my usual ramblings about things I like, in this case: Snyder's version of superheroes. 

Disclaimers: I absolutly understand that his cinema isn't for everyone and you have the right to dislike his movies, just as I have the right to absolutely dislike the x-men franchise (except Logan). so, I'm not bashing people who don't like him, don't worry. 

---

Prior to the idea of the movie, I had little knowledge concerning the industry. I also had faith in the movie-goers, faith that quickly dwindled as I was made aware of the toxic side of fandoms. I used to think that maybe people would be decent enough not to send death threats to actors, producers, or directors but I was wrong.  Some people go to such extremes and we've seen it with ghostbusters (2016) and the very disgusting people who engaged in cyber-harassment, rape threats, and racist outbursts towards Leslie Jones. We've seen it happen with Kelly Mary Tran and Daisy Riddley and even Rian Johnson.  those people would not back down from bullying others into submission. Unfortunately, those are the loudest voices and you can find them all over the internet. And those voices are of course, given a platform and listened to by studios.

Back to the movie. I think that there is a lack of good faith when it comes to people reacting to zack Snyder's cinematography. You could criticize his work (no work is perfect and no work suits everyone), but you can't possibly say he doesn't know how to direct nor doesn't he know how to tell stories.  It's absolutely alright to not like a director's work. I for one, don't like the portrayal of the X-men and mutants Brian Singer did in all of his movies. Once I went past the curious choices he made regarding my beloved Marvel teams, I started to look at how exactly he constructs his movies and why they don't mesh well with my own taste.  I compared his movies with each other and realized they constantly clashed with one another which made it hard to digest. Yet, people love these movies, and every time I mention I am an x-men fan, they would talk about the movie because that was their segway into Marvel comics. Good for them, I honestly am happy that the movies led them to take interest in the x-men but I would never be seen or heard say I do love them, cause I don't.

So, why is it that people are so allergic to Snyder and his vision of the superheroes? allergic to the point that studio interference was so ham-fisted into the project that we got the god-awful Josstice League. That's not a novelty here, studios go with the flow and they try to make sure they will earn money. Some people, the very loud people, decided that they wanted the movie to be similar to the Marvel movies and I sincerely believe that they didn't think this through, In what capacity should movies ALL look alike? I knew I had a Marvel overdose by the time BvS was out, I had enough of "funny" one-liners and quick banters between people. I was looking for something different and less formulaic. I was looking for an actual identity and I had it with Snyder. I had it and quickly lost it to Studios that were too afraid to commit to their first idea. 

You know, it's a little enraging, because I wished we had his full vision on display.  it could have been released to the public and nothing would have prevented the studios to reboot it later? I understand, it's the rush to the billions and that's where they lost. They missed an opportunity to serve something different, instead, we got the fun but limited Shazam (very purged from the deep topics they could have talked about but instead brushed off for cheap and easy laughs), and Aquaman (again... they really ham-fisted the dudebro persona of Jason Momoa and muzzled the director's affinity with horror movies. It could have been exciting to have the bright Atlantis (perhaps a little too light-bulbed) and the monsters of the abyss. but the movie was actually fun and decent.  we could have had something different and unseen but studios got cold feet instead. 

Back to the movie. Actually, Man of Steel. I keep laughing through my teeth when people who love Nolan's cinema jump on Man of Steel without realizing that Nolan wrote the story and the screenplay.  it is a story that would have been directed by Nolan should he have stayed on board. Zack really just directed it, gave it a soul and his style. I sometimes wonder what would Nolan's fans say if it had been done by their "batman's trilogy god" instead of Snyder. The movie made me discover the subtle relationship between directors and screenplay/ story writers, as well as the & and the "and" in a script/story. I'll share it with you. when you have a script written by A & Z that means both wrote at the same time. they worked together. when you have a script written by A and Z that means both wrote their scripts and they meshed it together with the script written by A being the most prominent script in the end product.  mindblowing, right?  but when you look at BvS for example, you see that it's the latter's case, which could explain why we had a sensation of watching two movies instead of one. 

Back to the movie, and actually Zack Snyder's style. It's not for everyone. much like most movies aren't for everyone as well. Titanic? gigantic success but a bore-fest for me when I watched it. X-men movies? I can't stand them, except for Logan. it's the only movie from the whole franchise that I love and why is that? mmm I guess it's because of both the tone, but the way those characters are treated, and the audience that follows. nothing is dumbed down, nothing is oh so simple either. the movie has you think, it's riddled with symbolism, it has several layers to it and I love those types of movies. This what Snyder's work is about. The symbolism (sometimes in your face, sometimes very subtle), the humanity of his characters, the many layers you can find upon watching the movies he makes more than one time. I had a field day with both Man of Steel and BvS because of this. because he gave me everything I've ever wanted in a superhero flick. everything, from the filter to the grandiose entrance of Wonder Woman against "Doomsday" was up to discussion. his Batcave, his motives, what could have happened to him to make him stray from his moral compass so hard? 

I heard so many criticisms about Batfleck, "oh but he doesn't kill", "this is not the real Batman", and I'm thinking. Well, the original batman did kill, what about that? Are you going to ignore it because comics code happened and they made it so he never kills anymore? what about, "If he's killing people left and right what happened to him to make him do this?" I mean, has it become so difficult for people to see beyond what the screen is showing? But then it dawned on me that perhaps people have connected to one version of the character and don't want to see anything else on the screen. I mean, many people grew up with the Adam West version of Batman and hated what Burton did to it -Some people grew up with the 92 cartoons and didn't like Schumacher's version. I guess that it really comes to people who had a full version  of what their heroes should/must be and therefore could never accept that something different might exist. It's fair game, really, we can't possibly love everything but what crosses the line for me is the whole public lynching that seems to have been the norm for a long while now.  (remember what happened to the star wars prelogy and Jar-Jar?) 

Back to the movie, again. Why is it so bad to have different versions of the same character existing  today?  Maybe this version of superman didn't ring a bell to those who preferred the Richard Donner version. I think it didn't. However, while I'm absolutely not speaking for everyone here, I can tell you that the Snyder version of both Superman and Batman rang a bell to me. You see, I remember what Nolan said after he made his Batman trilogy: it was time to put those heroes in the 21st century. people change, societies change over the years and decades and that's a fact.  Superman had always been the story of an immigrant who proved to be the citizern of his country despite his different origins. back in the days it meant something crucial for his creators, to make an all-american man with just a few upgrades and an almost divine moral compass. it had to be done because outsiders suffered from so many discriminations and prejudices that they had to be more than perfect. the idealized society also had to be accepting with superman's enemy showed as being essentially evil.  Then you also had the looming shadow of war, that called for idealism and a little dash of a romanced society to rouse some patriotism from readers and a very manichean vision of the world. After all, it was still a time when ugly people were seen as evil and beautiful people as the embodiement of good. 

Nolan and Snyder's superman spoke to me more than any other version of this character did. Same with MCU's Captain American who inspired me more than th eone in the paper.  (especially in captain america 2).  His experience as an actual immigrant, who had to choose between assimilation or communautarism and decided to be the best of two worlds spoke to me on a soul-level. the reception the public had of this "alien", this "different person", spoke to me as well. the world either fantasized on him, worshipped him, put him on a pedestal or downright hated him, feared him or remained suspicious. I felt inspired with him because he kept choosing to do the right thing despite all the shit thrown at him. This superman, for the first time was finally approchable. Yes, it's not going to be a version that agrees with everyone, but can't we just appreciate that we live in a time when we can have the Donner's version around, the Snyder's versions around and also the CWs version of the character as well. we can have it all, we can have everything and I would say that it's a good thing that we can witness it. 

In conclusion: I am extremely excited about the Snyder's cut. you know, because he managed to at least have his movie out the way he wanted it without studio interference. I want to see the heroes I really loved with Snyder's vision and talk about it for days, weeks, maybe even years. I am not saying it's going to be the best film in the whole world, but I can't wait to have my 4 hours of serotine injected through the eyes. 

let's hope you can, if not liking the movie, at least understand that people love them and respect their choice to love those movies. 

modern JB: standing up to her

 

Modern! JB: Standing up to her

 

A/N: it’s technically not the first time she’s standing up to her, but it’s one of the hottest arguments she’s going to have.

 

Xxxx

 

“Open the door, Bäahal.” -The cold and commanding voice of the eldest Targaryen’s daughter echoed in the hallway-

 

Her voice made the silver head sit on her bed and tweak with the hem of her nightgown.  Since they returned from Highgarden, Daenerys had not seen or heard from her sister in more than 36 Hours. Bäahal had not returned her calls, nor did she answer her texts which roused suspicion from the matriarch of the family.  The youngest sibling looked at her hands, still shaking ever since she had returned home. She yelped when the banging on the door resumed and the upset voice of her older sister echoed through the door, once again.

 

“I won’t repeat myself, sister. If you do not open, there would be consequences.” – Her voice became threatening once again, prompting the young woman to answer her older sister-

 

“Again with the threats?” -Bäahal finally said, before she rolled her head and stood up, giving herself some strength. - “I heard you find the first time. Learn to be patient, Dany.” -She asked, while she stood up and walked towards the door.

 

“Finally! A reaction from you! Hurry up and open that /bloody door/!”

 

Bäahal executed her command, opening the door yet staring at her sister with a cold fury in her eyes. Daenerys grinned and walked into the room, her short stature might have been shorter than Bäahal’s but her aura crushed Bäahal who had to hold onto the doorknob to keep her balance. Daenerys was devastatingly charismatic, anyone who saw her would testify in that sense. She had to be lest she wanted her family to crumble. Bäahal knew of the pressure put on her shoulder ever since she was a child. Rhaegar was supposed to be the head of the table, the one who would decide for everyone and he would have been if he had not died a gruesome death. Viserys was a sociopath who was clearly dealing with his own issues. How could he lead this family when all he had in his veins was alcohol and drugs? He showed no interest in making decisions that could affect the rest of his family nor was he interested in their real estate and state of affairs. Bäahal could never.

 

She was a bastard child after all, the fruit of his passion with a commoner, an albino at that! Bäahal might have looked the most after their father, taking his good looks, his cunning spirit and his passionate soul, she was no more but the shame his family had to bear. It could only be Daenerys. Rhaella made sure to raise her daughter to become the Dragon Queen. She raised her to become a ruthless businesswoman who would inspire fear and awe in her wake. After she died, Aerys made sure to teach everything he knew until his last breath. So yes, to have this woman enter the room felt akin to having one’s throat held on by a professional wrestler. Bäahal closed her eyes and closed the door behind her.

 

“To what do I owe a nightly visit?” She asked, turned on her heels juts so she could face her sister.

 

At the sight of the angry silver head, Bäahal swallowed a lump and bit her inner cheek. Jaime had to convince her to return to her place, knowing that an unplanned long stay would rouse suspicion. She had to leave and that little momentum she got since her return gave her time to think of what actually happened when she was with him.

 

“Since you’ve asked so nicely, I will tell you.” Daenerys then put her hands on her waist and looked her sister up and down before she started to walk around in her bedroom. Her cold purple eyes looked through her belongings, from the dancing cups from the competitions Bäahal did as a child, to the tabloids papers that were scattered all over the place. She wasn’t what one would say very “neat” in her cleaning, which irritated her sister. “Where have you been in the last two days?”

 

“Why would I tell you?” -Defensive answer, charged with suspicion and thinly veiled anger-

 

“We’ve talked about this a hundred times already, Bäahal. With Viserys always ready to blow his last fuse, we have to know where each other is.”

 

“Cut your bullshit! Where do you think I would go, uh? To one of your socialite friends? The ones who would mouth every single shit I do every chance they get. I am /tired/ Dany. Tired of you trying to tell me what to do with myself!” She groaned and walked closer to her sister. “You’re always prying on me, always trying to see what I’m doing and who I am seeing! Don’t you have enough of spying me? Don’t you have better things to do?” -She raised her voice, but a cold glare had her retreat to the front door, taking several steps back. -

 

“Do you think /I/ enjoy this? Do you have any idea of how much time I am wasting because of Viserys and you?”

 

“Nobody asked you to do this! But you /are/ neurotic, so of course you’d have to do it! Why don’t you let me fucking live, uh?”

 

“Here you are again, acting like a child.” She said dismissively. The little anger she was starting to feel had to be snuffed out otherwise she would truly lash out at her sister and Dany didn’t want to. She had always been in control of everything, especially herself. The anguish, the sorrow, the pain caused by her father to both her family and her by first bringing Bäahal to their family and then dying was threatening to breakout. It took a lot of strength from the young woman to hold back her venom, but Bäahal was making it difficult to do so.

 

“Acting like a child?” -That was enough for Bäahal to roll her eyes and gather enough strength to leave the door and walk circle to the other side of the bed.

 

“Yes, a child. Your bedroom is such a mess, your outfits are such a mess, even /you/ are a mess. I always must clean up after you. You might not be psychotic like Viserys, but you certainly bring your own lot of issues with that mouth of yours, don’t you? I will start again, and you will answer.”

 

“No!”

 

“Where have you been in the past two days?”

 

“No!”

 

“Where...” -Dany walked again, skipping the present Jaime bought Bäahal for Christmas that was underneath a few clothes she threw there. “Have…” She kept talking while stopping by a photograph of both Bäahal’s mother and herself when she was a kid. “You.” She turned around and walked towards the bed. “Been?” She lifted a brow.

 

“This is humiliating….” Bäahal whispered, shaking from head to toe as her sister was dangerously closer to her. “I simply needed some time off. Get off my back!” She groaned and put her hands on her waist.

 

“You needed some time off? I suppose, getting drunk at a club, making a fool of yourself.” She repeated while her violet hues studied the room of her sister.

 

“You know what, why don’t you just spill the beans, /sister/? Why don’t you tell me why you’re so pressed about my whereabouts? I thought you were busy with signing that damn contract with Bronn!” -There. A snarky smirk crept upon her lips as she thought she took the upper hand-

 

“I signed the contract yesterday. Our dear friend Bronn came here to sign it and he was looking for you. I couldn’t find you anywhere and ended up making excuses for you. He gave me what he promised, but I know I missed an opportunity because you defected me.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The sudden anger the silver heiress felt overcame her fear of her sister. This was the reason she slapped Jaime, the words he used to describe what she did at Highgarden were awful, hurtful, and cut like a knife planted into her heart. Jaime was so angry, rightfully so. When Bronn called him and started to describe how much he wanted to fuck Bäahal and what he would do to her, Jaime was shocked, upset and angry to the point of a white silence. He couldn’t say anything because their relationship was secret, but he wasn’t happy.

 

Bäahal remembered how hot her cheeks were, how quickly her eyes filled with unshed tears and that slap. It was even worse after, when he finally told her that he wanted her to have a better life. He wished she could resist her sister, stand up to her and that resonated with Bäahal.  This was all coming back to her tonight, when her sister finally decided to stop by and lash out at her. Toxic behaviour. It couldn’t just slide like before. It could never keep sliding like that, at least not this.

 

“You wanted me to be around when Bronn came back?” Her voice was sharp, her eyes fiery. “You wanted to sell me like you did at Higharden???!!!”

 

“I didn’t sell you.”

 

“But you did! You fucking did! And I tagged along with you!”

 

“That’s not what happened! You’re being ridiculous!” -Yet her voice faltered, for the first time there was a crack in her voice. Her constant denial was quickly ripping through Bäahal’s patience.-

 

 “You’re doing it again! Trying to manipulate me into thinking that you’re not some kind of asshole! I didn’t see what you were making me do, because I wanted to please you. I’ve /always/ wanted to please you! I’ve /always/ wanted to make you happy. “

 

“I don’t CARE!” Daenerys yelled, breathing heavily as the words finally crossed her lips. “I don’t..” She blinked at her own words and shook her head. “Bäahal! Be careful what you’re saying next.” She clenched her fists and walked towards her, her eyes throwing bolts.

 

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO THAT YOU HAVENT ALREADY?” She yelled and stood on her feet while her sister stopped walking. “You stripped me off of my dignity already! Had a man think he could fuck me just because you led him on. Do you realize what you’ve just done? Do you realize that I didn’t want to see you after that because I felt dirty? You used me for a fucking patch of land!” There, she used Jaime’s words and just as it unfolded between the two of them, Daenerys slapped her hard.

 

“Not a word. You will have to think long and hard about what you’ve just said to me. We will talk soon enough.”

 

And the matriarch left the room, -actually she fled from it- as her heart was racing in her ribcage. It was something unprecedented, Bäahal’s rebellion and refusal to listen to her. Perhaps the truth was a little darker there. In truth, she was hurt because she’d just realized that she went way too far this time with her sister. It was one thing to be restrictive and in control, but it was another to basically pimp her sister to one of the richest men of Westeros. She was ashamed, confused and all-in-all: angry. The silver haired heiress, however, was shocked by the slap she had just gotten. Her eyes shifted from left to right before she looked at the floor. Her cheek was burning but she was feeling good. She was feeling stronger, she was feeling euphoric even and that made her sit on her bed, eyes still wide open before she grabbed her phone and texted him, her Golden Lion: [Text to Golden Lion: “I have stood up to her. Got a slap in my face but that was earned. I have to tell you. Give me a call when you can. Your firecracker.]

 

-TBC-

Chronicles of the primeval gods: Life and Death of Ishtar: Motivation

 

Chronicles of the primeval gods: Life and Death of Ishtar: Motivation

 

A/N: My poor Ishtar, so guilt-ridden. He spoke to me, so I gave him space.

 

xxxxx

 

The All-New-Father’s chambers, 11h15 pm, Primeval god’s pantheon:

 

Lonely, the New All-father was feeling lonely that night. Ishtar was laying on his bed, the fine drapes of his sheets were nonchalantly thrown upon his massive figure. His long black hair was cascading on his chest and the fresh air in the room had his skin covered in goosebumps. He watched the ceiling, only lightened by the moonlight and giving his room a blue tint and thought to himself that perhaps, adding a fresh company could warm up the cold atmosphere. His chambers were cold, despite the rich décor that surrounded him. His chambers were cold ever since Elpis betrayed them.

 

 Nothing could have ever happened anyway. As far as he remembered, Elpis only bore fraternal feelings towards him, yet he still held onto the feeling to this day, hoping that somehow, someway, the goddess would see that her relationship with Pride was a dead-end and would come back to him. Love and desire prevented him from killing the love of his life but what good did it do to him? What did it bring Ishtar if not pain and misery? The Elpis he knew died on the day he stabbed her, cursing her into an eternal cycle of reincarnation. The sweet, soft and innocent creature he’d known had vanished from the moment he had betrayed her, and the brunet knew that nothing could fix their relationship.

 

Yet, he surprised himself with his hallucinations and constant daydreams about what could have been. Despite Ayasha and her (so-called) claims of falling in love with him, despite those carnal moments they both shared, nothing could compare to the illusions of the goddess of Hope and Light coming at him at any moment of the day, especially at night. On a night like this one, the sweet comfort felt by the presence of the pink-haired goddess was enough for the New All-Father. She was by his side, laid on her back and staring at the ceiling just like him. His black orbs set upon her and he watched her body, lit by the bright moonlight that made her skin glow.  He wanted to touch her, he wished for her to be real and real-enough she felt.  A soft chuckle crossed her plump lips and slowly she climbed on top of him, sitting her soft body on his lap. It elicited a moan from the god who quickly sat on the bed and rested against the wall.

 

“Elpis…” -He cupped her cheek and started to stroke the soft skin of hers. “I curse the day you met the Sin. I curse the day he took him away from me.”

 

“What are you talking about? I am right here, with you.” -Her voice, similar to the real goddess, almost to a fault. The line was blurred between reality and the illusion and for a brief second, the god thought it was her- “Perhaps you should focus on me instead of your curses.” She gave him a soft smile and slowly leaned into his warm palm. She pressed her lips to his skin and then went to his wrist. -

 

“You’re not real…. You…” -He paused for a minute- “would you have chosen me if I were to confess my true feelings for you before you met the Sin?” -His voice was filled with regret and his black orbs averted from her face to her chest. She was wearing little to nothing, the flimsy fabric of a pink nightgown covered her curves.  His eyes undressed her and then as a shiver possessed his spine, the god kept his hand on her neck, holding her firmly in place. She didn’t escape him.

 

“I would have, and deep down, I think you know that brother-mine. /I/ was the closest to you. We always were together, working hand in hand on battlefields. I would have been yours if you’d claimed me when you had the chance to.”  -The words he wished she had told him still hurt like knives. Listening to the goddess made him groan in pain, for he knew those weren’t really her words but his-

 

“I knew it. You wanted to be with me and I didn’t let you.” He started to whine and blame himself for this lie he’s been feeding his mind. He had no idea if whether or not she would have been with him – no he knew she wouldn’t have chosen him- but he still liked to imagine things to be the way he wished them to be.

 

“Why do you always complain when you see me?” The illusion asked, much to the shock of the New All-Father. “Don’t look at me with such a surprised look. Whenever I am here, it is always for moping and crying.”

 

“I still feel guilty over what I did to you, Elpis.” -He admitted, while his other hand slid underneath her nightgown. She grabbed him by the neck, squeezing it tightly while her eyes turned into golden pools.-

 

“Pathetic.” -She whispered to him while her hips started to rock against his lap. It elicited a groan from the god as he felt a shiver run down his spine. -

 

How many times had he dreamed of this? Of his sister riding him and taking him deep into her wet and warm cunt? How many times had he wished he could mate with his sibling? Flashes of their passionate romp filled his dreams, the sound of her voice saying un-holy words in his ear as he fucked her hard. How many times did he imagine her fingers sink into the hard skin of his shoulders, only to leave a trail of blood as she would scratch him until he bled? He would have been tender, loving, enjoying the softness and roundness of her curves while his lips would taste the delicate skin of her neck. He would have been a savage and would have fucked her into numbness. He would see her sweaty glistening body glow under the moonlight and the smile on her face. Oh, the smile, that smile... A sudden rush of adrenaline and arousal took over him and he grabbed the illusion’s neck back, forcing her to drop her arms on each side of her body and still look at him with a judgmental gaze.

 

“Not so insulting now, are you?” -He quipped, a grin on his lips-

 

“Finally! you cut the gentle brother’s act. You spent millennia wailing on your own for the loss of me, torturing yourself because you cursed me and took away your last chance at ever being loved by me. You’re here today, still overwhelmed with guilt and lust for me, dreading the day you would have to fight me.”

 

“Enough!” -Her words hurt even more. He refused to admit to himself that he dreaded the day Elpis and the Sin would come to the pantheon. -

 

“You dread the moment you will see me again because instead of lust and love in my eyes, you will read disgust and contempt. You will read hatred. you will read your end.”

 

“Enough!” -His voice boomed all over the place, making the walls shake as his red aura slowly spread across the room. -

 

The illusion vanished and Ishtar was left on his own in the cold room of the royal chambers.  His breathing was laboured, his chest heaved up and down slowly and he looked at the emptiness before him. Just a minute ago there had been Elpis in his room, the only time she’s ever been there. Just a minute ago she was riding him, teasing the god with her sensuality and then hurting him with her venom. He knew it was his own conscience that was talking through the illusion. It was his own heart that thought so little of him, his own mind that wanted him to get his comeuppance. Could it be that guilt had nested into his heart?

 

He stood up and flicked his wrist. A red energy coming from him spread across the room and destroyed some of the furniture inside. As the wooden night desk crumbled into small pieces, Ishtar stood up in a hurry. His long black locks cascaded on his back, the sheet fell onto the floor and the god, in all of his glory, stood with his hands curled into fists. It had to stop, the illusions, the guilt, the love. It had to stop and in order to make this happen, the New All-Father would have to kill Elpis with his own bare hands, but could he?

 

-TBC-

Doya: On the road to find Pluto.

Doya: on the road to find Pluto

A/N: still following the search for Pluto plot. a conversation between Doya. 

xxxx

Oya was sitting in Baby, her legs crossed and some files on her lap. While the most recent ones were about the “werewolf on the loose” case Dean found for the two of them, on top of it was the last research they did on the pagan god Pluto. Ever since they heard the “hunter radio” mentioning the spotting of the pagan god, nothing was ever said again about him. Despite their numerous attempt at finding him, Oya and Dean couldn't locate the god, but only a few possible events related to him. Oya suspected he was probably gathering forces if nobody was able to know his whereabouts and he might come back stronger than ever with a potential army or at least powerful allies. Dean speculated that eventually, he might even try and seek Crowley's help or an artifact left by Lucifer himself or the first monsters.

Dean hadn't heard from the king of Hell since he requested his help -as the favor owed by the King to him-. Oya didn't hear from Castiel, whom she asked for help with their research. It ended up being more difficult than she expected things to be but that didn't deter the woman from going through the reports over and over again. Dean asked her a while ago; when she was recovering from their last hunt; if she remembered anything from her confrontation with the god. For a while, Oya refused to dive into her memories. Dean understood but still warned her that it would have to be done if they wanted to find Pluto or at least understand why he was so different from the other pagan gods they had already fought. Today, in the car with Dean nearby, she had decided to give it a try. After all, she was still in a safe environment.

“I wasn't supposed to meet the god, you know?” A single sentence, enough to catch the attention of the hunter who looked at her with a furrowed brow. She glanced at him and nodded quietly. - “I was going after what I thought was a vampire and yet, upon finally finding my target and starting to fight it, they revealed themselves to be the pagan god of Death.”

“What? did he start to spill the beans while he was killing you?” Dean's voice faltered as he dreaded her answer. He furrowed his brows and held onto the wheel a lot harder. Oya nodded quietly before her gaze set upon the files on her lap again.

“He did. Kinda. I came to him with a wooden stake, some blessed salts and told him that I knew he was a filthy vampire preying on innocent souls. You know, the usual... He stopped me mid-air with a flick of his wrist, and I watched him transform...” -She slowly swallowed a hard lump before her fingers nearly clawed at the papers before her-

“That son of a bitch...” -He growled lowly-

“He...He took offense in the fact I thought he was a vampire and started to tell me about how disappointed he was with humans.”

“Do you remember what he told you?” -Dean's jaw tightened as he asked the question.-

He could tell by the sound of her voice that Oya was not comfortable. He knew she might have been reliving the moment as if the god was before her once again. The ebony hunter gritted her teeth, visibly upset at the memory of the encounter. She remembered his face, cold yet with green fire in his eyes. He grew in size, almost doubling down as he grabbed her cheek with his normal hand, only to turn his other hand into a large claw. She remembered his sadistic grin as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt while he spoke to her. He lamented on how humans were forgetful, on how they had forgotten about the gods, and how his powers were depleted. He told her that she would be the first to try and stop him but others would try and fail.

“He wanted to make an example of me... I can't remember everything, he was rambling while I was trying to escape him...He served me the same speech all the pagan gods serve us. How the modern world is ungrateful, how they forgot about them, and how they would make examples from hunters. I was the first to find him...There would be more.” Oya shrugged and shut her eyes she let her left hand run over her chest before she glanced at Dean. “He needs to feed on people. I suspected he was a vampire because of that. What if we don't hear from him because he's feeding on people? Perhaps that's why he is so powerful.” She nipped at her bottom lip.

“Anything specific in what he told you about his plans?”

“Define specific,” Oya asked as she leaned her head against the headrest of the car.

“I'm looking for possible clues in what he told you. He's hiding, we know. Why is he taking his time? You said he needs to feed on people, Some of the old pagan gods we fought had to consume something from humans to stay alive and powerful. We're talking about a pagan god of Death, what else could he possibly wish if not..”

“Worship.... he's looking for worship. I remember he said a line or two about wanting to remind people how to fear Death again and pray for a merciful one. He's in America, which makes sense. There's a sudden old gods revival in this country. Some worship Odin, others are full-on Greek and Roman pagan gods again. I've seen those groups online, he's going to reach out to some of the biggest worshippers to draw strength from them.”

“Gotcha!” -There was a lead! Dean was pleased to hear that they were able to at least have an idea of the god's motivations-

“I don't like the sound of it though, Dean. If worship truly makes him more powerful, then that means we would need to find a way to sever his connection with humans...That means we need a plan and allies.”

“Maybe Rowena... I don't fully trust Crowley.” -He started, which had Oya eyes grew wide and she groaned.-

“And you trust his mother? I'm sorry but this witch ALWAYS fucked with team free will. Always... And you will be indebted to her, who knows what she would ask from you?” But Dean rolled his eyes.

“And you have a better plan? Are you the king of Hell? Are you a witch? You might know some spells but I doubt you'd have enough magical power to be able to go toe to toe with a fucking pagan god, juiced up like this bastard!”

“Don't! Fucking don't, Dickhead!” She growled at him and hit her lap, messing up the papers she was reading a moment ago and having them fall on the floor of the car. “I don't like the idea of relying so much on people we can't trust. Crowley and Rowena had crossed you so many times in the past. I don't know what more they could take from us...”

“I don't like it either, but you know we have to fight fire with fire, O. Pluto is strong, stronger than any regular pagan gods we've ever fought before. Fighting him will require us to ask for help from anyone who can help us. Yes, Crowley and Rowena are assholes, but we know those assholes and we can deal with them!” He tapped his fingers on the wheel and then glanced at Oya who was shaking from head to toe. “O...I know you hate that, but remember, nothing can take me away from you. Nothing!”

He put his right hand on her leg and squeezed it gently. She bit her bottom lip and put her hand over his. She nodded frantically, half-reassured by his words and his touch yet still upset over the fact they would need to ask for help. She looked at their hands and entwined their fingers together.

“I will call Castiel when we get at the motel. I will tell him about our new findings and perhaps he would be able to find Pluto or at least get to study those worshiping groups while we work on our case.”

“I will talk to Crowley, tell him what you told me, see what he can fish out for us. Maybe he can find Pluto too?” He paused for a while before he stroked her leg. “We'll talk to Rowena together, maybe after we close the case we're working on.”

“Yeah?..... that'll be swell...” She said as she slowly fumbled to gather the papers she dropped on the floor. “I can't afford to lose you, D... I just can't.” She was still shaking, which prompted Dean to stroke her neck and gently slid his fingers into her black locks.

“You won't...okay?”

“Okay.....we should probably focus a little bit on the case at hand....A werewolf on the loose right?” She said as she closed the files and put them back in her bag. “This one has left a trail of blood we can easily follow. He hasn't left the community he's at, and I think he won't. I definitely need a big fight.”

She sighed and leaned into the car's door. It was what she needed, after all, a decent and simple case just so she could get back into it and find the motivation to face the pagan god.

-TBC-

modern!Got: JAIME X BAAHAL: MAJOR EVENTS TIMELINE

 Modern GOT:

 

Ø  Bäahal meets Jaime at a club (his). She’s a socialite and he’s a businessman. Both heirs of an insanely rich family.  They have sex that night. Jaime offers to see her again.

Ø  Bäahal is surprised that he wants to see her again (he texts her first), but she’s excited because she loved their moment together. They have a connection there, something easy, fast, and perhaps strong was formed on that first night.

Ø  Jaime brings her comfort, a sensation of companionship, he makes her laugh, he makes her feel good.  She is a lonely soul who’s never had a lot of luck with people because of her sister.

Ø  They spend a day together after Christmas where they both give each other a present.  Jaime learns that day that her family isn’t really forgiving her for her existence and he’s the first one to ever give her a present since Rhaegal died.

Ø  While they’re very busy, they find a moment to text each other. Bäahal constantly talks to him or calls him. She needs his voice, his arms, his smiles.  It doesn’t matter to her that he’s 15 years older than her. She loves his company a lot. 

> first argument ever: Bronn talked to Jaime about how much he wanted to fuck Bäahal and what happened at highgarden. he didn't take it well. 

 

(it’s growing, it’s something very new but I am very fond of them. I would love to keep writing them of course because there is just a strong connection between the two of them. It’s phenomenal. I am very protective of them and I want them to keep going.)

 

GOT: JAIME X BAAHAL: MAJOR EVENTS TIMELINE

 Major events:  GoT

 

Ø  Long Night: They meet for the first time. The princess is freshly acknowledged as one but doesn’t consider herself as one. Jaime Is the only one who came to help despite Cersei’s refusal.

Ø  They get along from the start. Bäahal appreciates his honesty and bravery. Jaime appreciates her devotion and fearless behavior.

Ø  They do argue for the first time there. He guides her and awakens the Dragon and her desire to live.

Ø  First stolen KISS there!

Ø  After the Long Night: Bäahal is smitten over the Knight and wishes he wouldn’t return to Cersei but he does.  He considers her well but is still in love with Cersei. Bäahal tries to forget him.

Ø  After the Last War: Bäahal can’t shake her crush on Jaime. She decides to leave the castle in order to meet her new subjects but also finds Jaime or his remains and buries him.  

Ø  Almost a year after the last War: she finds him at Highgarden.

Ø  HIGH GARDEN: Jaime first rejects her, but she’s determined to help him.  She realizes she is in love with him and that’s why she’s been looking for him.

Ø  Second stolen kiss happen there, at night.  Jaime decides to have lunch with her instead.

Ø  After a few days, Jaime is starting to take care of himself and start his mourning process. It takes a while before they finally have a heavy conversation during lunch.

Ø  During lunch: Bäahal tells him that she’s in love with him. Shocker! Jaime rejects her. (tears tears, oh terrible tears). She misunderstands him and agrees to leave Highgarden.

Ø  Several months later: Jaime is feeling much better. Bâahal had tried to forget Jaime. She decided she’d first find someone new and let suitable men try to court her but it was pointless, she was hurting. She was desperately in love with Jaime and didn’t want more than this. So she goes on a journey to meet with her people.

Ø  She’s a victim of a siege and nearly dies. Jaime eavesdrops on servants and rushes to her rescue. He’s relieved to find her and stays by her sides as she recovers.

Ø  Emaciated, hungry, scared, Bäahal is having a hard time recovering but Jaime is still by her side. They grow close to one another. They might have a thing, Jaime presses his forehead against hers. It’s a calming thing for them.

Ø  A month later:  during a conversation, Bäahal kisses him again and they have a big conversation. A hearty one. They talk about Highgarden, about their feelings, about the issues they would meet: Jaime is in love with her too but wanted to protect her by pushing her away.

Ø  Bäahal is determined not to let him go. She doesn’t care about the issues nor the fight but they both want to do this right and have Daenerys’ blessings.

Ø  A plan is devised, and they kept their distance for a few days. They will sail back to King’s Landing and leave Casterly Roc.

Ø  First night on the boat: After Jaime first refuses to share the cabin with Bäahal, they both are very upset and can’t sleep well. She slips into his cabin around dawn and talks him into spending the night together: FIRST NIGHT TOGETHER, just sleeping next to each other. It’s tender, it’s sweet, it’s a relief.

 

(I absolutely love these two. I love their relationship. How they are honest towards one another. Those scenes, man, those scenes got me on my feelings. I laughed and cried and felt a pang in the heart because of them. I absolutely love these two. Their progression, their relationship. How Bäahal is innocent and kind and loving and defiant and determined and strongly attached to him. I love how she always wants to take care of him and make sure he’s happy and he does the very same, he wants to protect her. I love how he cares for her and that they can speak with the simplest words but each of them has a big impact. They have a line they always say “fuck fate!” it’s their thing. It’s the first thing Jaime told her back at Winterfell when they first met. It’s the thing she told him at high garden to shake him up. It is their line for now.. their love truly motivates and helps each other and I think it’s the sweetest and most intense relationship ever. I love them)