#I got to use my useless mythology knowledge

[aeantizlkamenwati]

The Hound

So @the-kingshound updated and I dove headfirst into feelings and needed to get some feelings out...So I wrote a thing. As you do. A bit terrified to post outside of anon, but...2.5k words is too much for an ask and the discord...so...here we are.

Some moderate CW though, it contains depression, sexism (I know most people aren't going to want to delve into this sort of stuff because it's escapism, but I find it cathartic and validating when it's at least acknowledged how shitty it is to have a uterus at any point in time), and my Hound is not the nicest person around. (Arthur please don't give up on her, she'll get there)

OH and a part is inspired by a really old poll Kal asked about what color we'd like our dog-hounds to be and I know everyone went with the Christian Black Hound of Hell cause it IS iconic and spooky, but I was going...but a white hound would mean something to the Welsh. It makes a statement. SO I added it in the end to soften the angst.

Enjoy below the cut because I have no chill.

Guinevere stared across her small table at the King. Her husband, she supposed, though in the eyes of the court the title was not official. He seemed unable to meet her bright red eyes—not uncommon in her experience. Even in her own House people struggled to hold her gaze. More than once had she overheard whispers of the unsettling otherworldly heir, the one that must’ve been taken by some spirit or another.

Here was no different, only the terms changed. Annwn, Arawn, Mallt-y-Nos all were whispered as she walked past instead of Da Derga. ‘Bad omen that one’ was still the same though. ‘It’ll be the death of the Pendragons, letting one such as her share a bed with the King,’ in some form or another.

She waited patiently, stoically for the King to sort through whatever went on in his head. She refused to let her gaze leave him. To show any sign of weakness lest he go for her throat so to speak. She watched him as any prisoner might when face to face with their judge and executioner.

Arthur, as a person, was not…terrible. Though the most she saw of him was at their wedding, to be fair. Her hackles bristled at even the memory of the word. Wedding. It was nothing more than a celebration of her family’s downfall. The handfasting, nothing more than a shackle, a collar to show the might of Camelot.

But it was not yet a total victory.

After all, there were still more humiliations the king could bring against House Venegard. One, in particular, she dreaded more than others. She understood her duty, of course, and she would bear the torment like the cliffs do the raging sea…

That did not mean her stomach did not cramp. That bile did not coat her tongue. Her fists clenched in her lap, waiting those dreadful words, the terrible command. Her throat tightened against the rising emotions. Her skin prickled.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Saraah had told her. Radel and Ghaven had tried to comfort her as well. In their own way. Ghaven told her to use their wedding present on Arthur if he tried. It…it did make her laugh despite the crushing despair. Saraah had tried to tell her she’d be safe, that they doubted Arthur would force her to do anything.

She loved her siblings, but…she also knew they didn’t understand, not truly. They were, in the judging eyes of the law, men. They had the rights to their wives—not including Saarah of course.

They did not get the lectures from their mother about how to cut one’s own throat or womanhood should they ever be captured. They did not hear old wives tell horror stories of their first nights. They were not told tricks to get through it, how to fix themselves afterwards because their husband would just leave them once he was through—or fall asleep. They did not hope to die with the birth of their firstborn so they did not have to suffer anymore violations.

After all, what could be more symbolic of the King’s victory than breaking her in their marriage bed as his father did his mother so long ago?

Guinevere bit her tongue to keep her numbness in place. Pain forced her back into the hardened warrior her House had demanded she become. She remembered her mother telling her to never let any man see her scared, see her cry, and she refused to disappoint her.

Arthur cleared his throat. He straightened in his seat. He tried his best to look calm, but there was…some kind of nervous energy. He picked at his fingers out of reflex. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I wished to ask you something,” he started carefully.

Her stomach twisted sharply. The slight dizziness that plagued her since her betrothal sent sparks over her eyes. She could already understand where this was no doubt going. The court had been rather loud as of late, crying that the marriage was not true. She was only surprised they didn’t demand the King show them the bedsheets afterwards.

She signed without feeling, as always, “Come to take your dues, then?”

Arthur blinked, reminding her of a puppy. “Beg pardon?”

She shrugged, each motion empty of any semblance of emotion. “I’m surprised they’ve let you wait this long. They seem quite eager for you to show me my place.” Her eyes drifted around the room. She noted the places she stashed weapons…assuming Gwyar hadn’t moved them again. They seemed exasperated every time they found a new hiding place…but they also didn’t take the weapons either.

“That’s not what I…” Arthur shook their head, as though trying to shake the thoughts into line. “I’m not—”

“So, a mistress then, that’s to be my humiliation,” Guinevere nodded to herself. “Probably for the best.” Her fingers gently traced the horrific scar across her neck, hidden by her bodice. “Wouldn’t wish to sully the Pendragon line with a wraith.” It was a stark reminder he did not wed a delicate flower, she fought and bled against him. One of his people nearly took her head off.

And the sick part was…she wished they had.

She shook her head against the darkness creeping up her spine. She figured out long ago she would never be a beautiful maiden; she would not be swept off her feet, or whatever Saarah’s fantasies were. She didn’t know why it still stung at this point.

She slowly rose from her seat. The fabric of her dress pulled and tugged uncomfortably against her movements. The neckline rubbed and scratched at the scar. Almost like feeling the rough, chipped edge of the sword again.

Her fingers were cold against her neck. She put them between her skin and the stupid Camelotian garment. Gwyar had convinced her it might be wise to attempt to acclimate to…here. Apparently, some of the court were scandalized by her tattoos. They apparently made her petite-self intimidating, like a barbarian. Or some other drivel.

Maybe they just didn’t want to admit her eyes scared them. Or maybe they were just trying to test to see if the King’s new dog would bite.

She plucked the letters from the table. The seal she was beginning to recognize as Saraah’s glared up at her in accusation. She assumed the others were from various other siblings he had corralled into sending to her. Probably sometime after the fifth letter she didn’t reply to.

She blew out a breath before placing them with the growing pile on her desk. Weight pulled at her bones. The old habit of talking to Saraah begged for her to try. Her chest hurt at the pain she must be causing them.

She drifted away before she could crumble. She had already broken in front of them; she would not do it again. She was the seventh heir of House Venegard. It was time she acted like it. Her feet took her to the window as they often did. Not to stare out over her new domain, but to the sky where birds played with the clouds.

A chair scraped over the floor. Perhaps the King grew tired of her. Or, more likely, he had other arrangements. Spending time with prisoners was hardly worth his time, but still nice of him to stop by, she supposed.

“I wanted to ask how you are,” Arthur’s voice disrupted her quiet contemplation of a flock of birds. She looked to the side as if she could see him behind her. Her back tensed. “We haven’t been able to speak since…” He didn’t say the words as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Your brother asked after you, well his husband asked, but on his behalf, I’m sure.”

Slowly, she turned, smoothing her face against anything that might show the crushing weight on her heart. “I am fine.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the simple answer. He kept quiet as he observed her carefully, as if he could pull answers from her like a sword from a stone. “If there is something I can do to make you more comfortable…”

“You cannot.” Her hands moved like swords, cutting off the line of questioning. “As I told Morien and Gwyar, I will remain living.”

Any more than that, she could not guarantee. She would pretend she was collared and leashed, sit when told, rollover as necessary, endure whatever she had to keep House Venegard alive. She would hide what and who she was, bury it so deep down it would crush her very soul into nothingness.

The two of them engaged in a strange staring contest. Her rubies as lifeless as the gems themselves against his captured-skies bright and beckoning freedom. He tapped a finger against the table. She could see him thinking and sorting through the thoughts, or perhaps he was trying to sift through the dense mist of her façade.

“Would you accompany me this afternoon?” he asked suddenly. “I was going to take Mordred, and I know we would both delight in your company as well.”

*****

Why she went was a mystery even to her. Perhaps it was strategic? To be seen with her husband and…stepchild? Show they did have some sort of relationship to keep the nobles at least somewhat complacent.

Maybe she just had a weakness for the child. Or was curious about the destination. Maybe after weeks drifting alone inside her rooms, only venturing out in the mornings to the dead training grounds or for mandatory appearances, she was going mad.

Arthur was pleased with themselves. They had a soft smile and a spring in their step as they escorted the group to a building. A kennel if the baying of hounds told her anything. Mordred’s hand tugged on their sleeve, eyes wide in either excitement or question. Arthur smiled wider. “Yes, they sent word this morning.”

And with those cryptic words, he pushed open the door and gestured for Mordred to go through. The child hesitated, but whatever was beyond the door drew them forward just the same. Arthur turned his smile to her, holding the door for her.

Guinevere eyed him oddly as she passed—well as best she could without pulling her neck muscles. She ignored the softest brush of warmth coming off him, reminding her how cold she always felt. She looked around the humble abode instead.

It did not take long for her eyes to find Mordred…being swarmed by wriggly, wobbly puppies. The mother hound watched over her litter like a queen, but didn’t appear to mind them entering her space. Her tail wagged as Arthur stepped inside behind Guinevere.

She blinked at the one, two, three…six puppies all bounding around on their tiny legs. Two were gnawing on each other’s legs, while a third played with one’s ear. One was pulling at Mordred’s tunic. Another was getting scooped by the child.

A bit of ice inside her chest cracked. It sizzled and popped at the scene. She turned to look up at Arthur. “Puppies?” she signed in confusion. “You brought me to see puppies?”

Arthur smiled. “Yes? They are cute and these ones the houndmaster said were old enough for a visit now.” He shrugged, though the way his eyes moved over the scene made her think he was up to something.

Of course, she always thought he was up to something, she supposed. Still…unless he was going to order the bitch to tear out her throat for good this time…what harm could puppies do?

“I was once told the Irish have great reverence for their hounds,” he eyed her, “even going so far as to give their great warriors and kings the epithet ‘hound’.”

She blinked at him, the nod almost involuntary. Why did he care to know that? Why bring it up? Her chest felt…twitchy under all the ice and darkness. She gave him a probing stare, trying to find answers. “Cú,” she spelled carefully, “it shows they are worthy of the loyalty hounds give.”

“I find it rather…beautiful to think a king is only worthy of his title if he is worthy of his hound first.” He smiled again, before motioning towards the puppies.

Ignoring the strange…prickle in her chest that his cryptic words seemed to conjure, she approached carefully, keeping an eye on the mother before gathering her dress to sit on the ground. The unoccupied puppy plodded its way towards her. It gave a little whine, perhaps a practice growl, before sniffing her. It was black like its mother with wavy fur.

Still, her chest clenched tightly. She made little tongue clicks at the puppies. Her hands petted the brave one that came up to her first. It wobbled and fell to the side. Her mouth parted in a soft laugh, more audible puffs of air than anything. Tiny teeth gnawed at her fingers as she tickled the soft belly.

When the puppy had its fill of her play, it tottered off to a group that gathered near Arthur. For a moment, their eyes met. Bloody red and heavenly blue. A strange pang struck Guinevere’s chest like a shard of ice had stabbed her heart as it broke away. She pulled her eyes down to his hands.

And found a tiny white ball of fur held safely against his chest.

She blinked. A glance at the rest of the litter found only blacks and a few red or fawn ones. The mother’s ears perked as the tiny bundle squeaked. She panted before sniffing the air as if trying to decide if the squeak was distress.

Arthur followed Guinevere’s eyes and gave the tiny bundle a soft smile. He shuffled over to her side, careful to keep a distance between them. He rubbed at the little puppy’s head. “This little one the houndmaster was worried wouldn’t make it,” he spoke softly, glancing up at her. “She’s the runt—and well,” he gestured to her fur.

Guinevere knew well what he meant. Pure white animals were often abandoned by their mothers, easily spotted by predators, or were otherwise ill. Runts were much the same. Her brows pinched together. She gently stroked the soft fur of the puppy’s ear. Her own white hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward.

“But it appears she’s much stronger than we thought—or just stubborn,” Arthur chuckled. “Some might say she’s a bad omen, that she’s already marked for Arawn’s pack and it is best to send her on her way…” He smiled wryly at her, like he knew the insults thrown her way. “Between you and me, I think they are just scared because they have wicked souls and fear she’ll sniff them out.”

He held the puppy out to her as another attempted to climb into his lap. The little thing was warm, soft like all babies were, but oh so still. She didn’t squirm or wriggle, just gave a dissatisfied squeak as Guinevere held her to her chest. The puppy’s tiny breaths pressed against her fingers.

Her heart twisted again. The bubbling need for this thing to survive choked her breath. She rubbed her thumb against its ear again, making clicking noises again. Fight, she told the hound mentally. She tried to impart some of her own will into the small hound. Fight and remind them hounds choose their master. And give them pity if they think they have any power over you.

[luvyeni]

❛CUPID AND HIS ANGEL❜ ( l. know )

💬nia's notes: i seen the shoot and got hella inspired.

p. cupid!leeknow x angel!reader w. 2.5k+

warnings? yandere themes, corruption kink, talks of blood, oral (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, poor knowledge of greek mythology ( like zesus should strike me down), leeknow is referred to as both lk and cupid.

— 𖦹 ( youre lee knows precious angel, and he'll be damned if he shoots his arrow into your hear for anyone but himself ) !

“she is a beauty, isn’t she?” lee know stared at the photo in front of him, ready to snap his bow and arrows in half. “she isn’t a goddess by any means, just a mere angel, but she’s special.” he knew who you were, he’d been watching you since you arrived here in olympus, he already claimed you as his. “you want me to use my arrows on a useless angel?”

he didn’t mean to be so harsh, but if this male angel found out he also had an eye out on you, he’d surely try and start a war over it – and lee know didn’t bother for another war, nor did he wish bloodshed, but he’d spill the angels blood all over olympus if it meant you’d be his alone – plus the angel would never win against lee know, he was a god of course, but that wouldn’t stop him, male angels are very prideful. “please, i’ll pay you a generous amount.” lee know smiled, tapping the table. “of course.” the angel put the sack of gold on the table, lee know scooped up the bag, putting it in his pocket. “good day to you.” he turned to walk away. “so you’ll do it?” he turned back facing the angel. “consider it already done, i’ll inform you when it will take place.” he smirked walking out of the establishment.

of course he wasn’t gonna do it, no way was he gonna let you be taken from him by some lowly angel, no you deserved more than that – you deserved to be treated like the goddess you really were, spoiled with many jewels and dresses, to eat the best foods… you deserved to be with him, he could give you all that and more.

of course, he already knew where you hung out, in the fields with the other angels, he’d often watch you picking flowers, your wings fluttering behind you, perfect for him. “hi my precious little angel.”

you turned around to face the voice, with a smile, it was your friend leeknow, you smiled running over to him. “hi cupid.” you teased, he smiled, patting your head. “i told you to call me leeknow.” you chuckled. “i know, but i like teasing you.” you were so cute, so unaware of the explicit things he thought about doing to you. “are you here to stay or are you gonna go make people fall in love today.” he shook his head, he only had one person he was gonna make fall in love today – and she was standing right in front of him. “no i’m just here to watch you today, make sure you’re being the good angel i know you are.” he took a flower from your pile. “(y/n), come!” your friend called for you. “go little angel, i’ll be here when you’re done.”

he sat down watching you run over to your friend who wanted to show you something in the grass, probably a animal or something – he didn’t mind, he had business to attend to. pulling out his trusty bow, along with a single love arrow, he waited for yours and your friend to be far enough so you’d be to look at him first, but you won’t see him shoot you, before aiming the arrow, making sure to wait for the exact moment – lord knows that if he shot your friend by accident he’d sure end up killing them, he didn’t want anyone else but you, and was willing to do anything, and he couldn’t have that if he has a stupid little angel floating around here actually thinking he’d love them, no all his love was for you.

once you were in the right place, he wasted no time, letting the arrow go, shoot right in the heart, right where it needed to be. he saw you stumble, meaning the arrow did hit you – making direct eye contact with him. he smiled, and just as he planned, you dropped the flowers, waving goodbye to your friend, running over to him. “you’re back my little angel.” you smiled, he seen the look in your eyes. “pretty little angel.” he held the flower he took from you, placing it behind your ear. “leeknow, i feel- shh, i know angel, let’s get you back to my castle okay?”

lee know was ecstatic, the magic from the arrow seemed to hit faster than anyone he ever shot before, you were all over him on the ride back, to the point he had to hold your wrist down to keep you from unbuckling his pants, “angel stop it.” he sighed as you pressed warm kisses to his neck. you pouted, whining. “but why, i just want to show you that i love you so much.” he smiled, this is exactly what you wanted. “yeah? you love me?” you nodded. “yup, so so much.” he chuckled. “and i love you too angel, but you have no clue what you’re doing, just wait a little while longer, and i’ll show you exactly how you can show me how much you love me.”

as soon as you touched the inside of your castle he was taking you to his chambers, not even caring to explain to the maids, close his door, leaving you both alone. you rushed to kiss him, he finally allowed you to, it was messy, due to your lack of knowledge of how to kiss someone or do anything in a sexual nature at in general. he pulled away grabbing both your cheeks. “calm down my little angel, you don’t even know what you’re doing.” he chuckled. “let me guide you, okay? i’ll give you anything you want, just submit to me.”

Your body finally calm down some, he smiled. “good girl, now undress for me.” you untied the string of your dress, that was tied around your neck, letting it fall, uncovering your boobs, the cold air hitting your nipples. “perfect, my perfect little angel.” he brought his hands up to your nipples, pinching them, you whimpered at the sensation. “sensitive baby.”

he sat down in the chair, patting his lap. “come here pretty.” you moved to where here was, standing in between his legs. “be my sweet little angel and get on your knees for me.” you obeyed, sinking down on your knees, looking up at him. “good little angel, listen so well for me.” he caressed your face, the lovesick look in your eyes making him smile. “gonna do whatever i ask you, be a good angel for me.” you nodded. “anything.”

he let your face go, sitting back to unbuckle his slacks, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock slapping again his abdomen, his hissed at the cold air. “are you hurt?” your eyes filled with worry, he let out a dry laugh. “no angel, i’m fine.” he groaned, stroking his cock in front of your face. “you want to show me how much you love?, prove to cupid how much you love him?” you nodded. “i do.”

he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to your pink glossy lips. “open for me angel.” you slowly parted your lips, he slid his cock into your mouth, moaning as he guided you down his length. “there we go angel, keep going, don’t use your teeth.” you took as much as you could, until his tip hit the back of your throat. “pretty girl, my cock is too big for your little mouth.”

you shook your head, desperate to please him, you tried to take him further down, gagging around his length. “you really want to please me little angel, you took me all the way.” he threw his head back as you worked your mouth up and down, eventually getting the hang of it. “sh-shit you’re a natural angel.” the god was losing his mind, the way your mouth worked on his cock, he had to grip the chair to keep from grabbing your head, fucking up into your mouth – not wanting to frighten you during your first time, plus you both had all the time in the world, both of you being immortal, he had all the time in the world to fuck your face, teach you and corrupt you even more than he was about to.

“fuck angel, angel i’m about to cum.” he groaned. “wanna cum in your mouth okay? gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” you hummed, he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it down until your nose poked his pubic bone. “breath through your nose angel.” he groaned out, stilling your head. “ngh, fuck angel, i’m cumming!” his cock twitched before you felt his warm cum hit the back of your throat. “mhm shit, take all my cum love.” he cursed, his cum filling your mouth.

he finally released your head; you coughed, spit and cum wetting your lips as you caught your breath. “did i do well?” your voice was scratchy due to his previous assault, he smiled at your need to please him – even though he was the cause of it. “yeah angel, you did good.” he said grabbing your cheek, wiping the cum from your lips. “now it’s time for me to show you how much i love you now.”

he helped you up, guiding you to the bed. “lay down angel.” you complied, laying down, your wings spread behind you, your skin glowing, you were truly a beauty. “such a pretty creature.” he lifted the skirt of your dress up on your waist, your white panties on display. “so fucking pretty angel.” he kissed your navel. “spread your legs for me angel.”

he sat on his knees between your legs, the wet spot in the middle of your panties, proving your arousal. “look at the mess you made angel, you love me that much?” he rubbed you through your panties. “leeknow.” you whimpered, your eyes widened at the noise that so easily came out of your mouth. “it’s normal sweet angel, it’s just you showing how much you love me.” he moved your panties to the side, your cunt soaked with your juices. “look so sweet angel, gonna let have a taste later.” it didn’t sound like a question, and lee know didn’t mean it as either, he would spend the rest of eternity in between your legs, but he was equally as desperate to fuck you, his cock swelled just at the thought. he pushed a finger into your hole, you whimpered out his name in reaction. “that feels nice angel?” you nodded. “i’ll let it slide this once angel, but when i speak to you, you use your words, okay?” he pressed a second finger at your hole. “you want another?”

“pl-please.” you moaned as he added the second finger, using his thumb to rub your clit. “sweet angel your little cunt is squeezing my fingers like crazy.” he said. “you’re barely taking them, how can you take me cock if you can’t even take my fingers.” you whined. “i-i can, i promise.”he smiled, speeding up his movements, curling his fingers. “you gotta cum on my fingers first then, gotta open you up to take my cock.”

you felt something, your thighs began to tremble, your legs trying to close around leeknows wrist, but he held them open. “s-something- shh let it out angel, this is a good thing, that means you’re about to cum, be a good angel and cum all over my fingers.” on his word, you felt yourself release, cumming on his hand. “le-leeknow.” your body convulsed as he worked you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. “oh fuck angel, you taste so good.” he groaned, tapping on your sticky clit.

“you ready for cock angel?” he rubbed his length on your folds, your juices coating his cock. “y-yes.” your whimpers turned into a loud moan as he slowly entered you, the tip of his cock alone stretching your cunt. “leeknow.” he sighed, his cock sinking into your cunt, your walls gripping him like vice. “fu-fuck angel, your cunt is squeezing me like crazy.” he grunted. “relax your pretty cunt for me, let me in.” he slowly moved his hips, taking his cock out, pushing back in.

you were a mess as he slowly moved inside you, the uncomfortable feeling slowly subsiding, turning into pure pleasure. “m-more.” that’s all he needed to speed up his movements, your moans bouncing off the walls of his chambers as he fucked you. “that’s it angel, take all of my cock.” his hand toyed with your nipples, pinching them.

you felt like you were floating, the tip of his cock slamming into your cervix. “are you going dumb on my cock already angel?” he chuckled. “it’s okay love, i’ll be right here, your love will be here when you come back.” he lifted your hips fucking deeper into you.

“fu-fuck angel, gonna make you my wife.” he grunted. “give you everything you deserve.” he promised. “no one will ever be able to harm you.” you listened to his confession, unable to speak. “sh-shit you’re clenching so tight around me, gonna cum aren’t you, tell me you love me first, i want to hear you say it.” he grabbed your chin. “i-i love you, i love you so much.” you mustered out. “lee-leeknow i’m gonna cum!” you screamed.

“cum for me angel, cum for me so i can fill your little cunt with my cum.” his words alone made you yell out his name as you came, your thighs shaking. “fuck angel, you came so fast -shit- you want my cum that bad, want to have my children, give me a heir?” you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist. “p-please.” his hips began to falter, his thrust becoming more messy. “fu-fuck angel, i’m gonna cum, gonna fill your pretty cunt up -ngh- fuckfuckfuck.” he cursed, his cum filling your cunt up. “take my cum, my little angel.”

your body laid there limp, your eyes fluttering close. “little angel are you sleepy, my cock made you that tired?” he chuckled as you nodded. “go ahead and sleep, i’ll clean your sweet body up.” that’s all you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

“you cannot enter cupids chambers right now he is-.” his door swung open, lee knows eyes opened, the angry angel making his way in. “you bastard! you’re a thief and a crook.” he yelled at the god, you can tell he was angry, because not even a prideful angel would dare do what he was doing. “you stole my gold and my angel.”

your eyes opened due to the commotion. “leeknow?” leeknows eyes darken upon hearing your voice. “you woke up my little angel with all your yapping.” he said. “your angel? she’s supposed to be mine!” the angel yelled. “enough of this.” leeknow belted. “why would i need your gold? you’re a lowlife.”he scoffed, the angel stood there fuming. “now get the fuck out before i have you killed, you’re scaring my wife.” with a snap of his fingers, two guards came in dragging the male out. “who was that?”

he turned to you, starring up at him. “just a upset customer, don’t worry about you’ll never see him again.” he dipped under the blanket, kissing your thighs. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered.

“gonna eat my little angels pretty pussy.”

©LUVYENI

[literally-noone83]

Silver Tongue

18+

A/n: Idk what this is. This thing has been sitting in my drafts for so long, and I haven't posted in forever... so. I finally finished it. Here we go, enjoy.

He could listen to you for hours...

The God of Mischeif, the silvertongue of Gods, he's the God who loved to hear himself speak. Words dripped from his lips like honey, or boomed from his depths in power. He enjoyed talking, it was his tool beside his dagger he welded equally graceful and skillfully.

He'd use it to spark the fear in cowering swine, use it to make snide and conniving comments to wound up midgard's heroes, or to caress your ears just to see you go flush red. His words were his way to get what he wanted but... he found your words all the more captivating.

It wasn't like you were doing this on purpose. On the contrary, you found yourself trying not to spiel thoughtless things to the closest person. For the longest time, Loki saw you for your reverence, your shyness as you worked away in the Avengers Tower. He did know your voice tk be tender and sweet in the caveats of days that passed with your kind greetings, small talk with colleagues and phone messages at your desk, but the moment you got latched on to a topic... Loki found himself listening a little bit more closely.

He watched as your eye lit up, your soft lips breaking out into a grin, one that twitched hesitantly as ti contain the visible excitement he saw bubble up inside you. He'd interrupt anyone in the room that may have been talking over you just to inquire on this small matter with you — a book, a movie, a part of history, a niche topic, a notion — and naturally a blush threatened your cheeks. His eyes softened, nodding to letting you know he was listening and the ends of his lips lift to see that was all you needed -- a greenlight that someone cared. Your hesitant words grew to rants, knowledge flowing from you. Your articulation, the fine words you kept in your hidden reputiore, alongside these thoughts. Soon there were days it was just you and him, sitting somewhere hed catch up, comfortably laxed as he hummed at your shared conversations that transformed into your personal monologues hed sit audience to. All of which hed constantly instigate...

"The- then I read an article about ahh- uhm, L-loki?" You breath hitched and he smirked.

"Yes, darling?"

"You- uh, you sure you want me to..." You breath hitch at the way his breath fans your sensitive neck, "Oh yes, dear." His slender hands trail over you hips and god-perfect thighs under that hideous coat.

"Keep talking to me, you know how much I love your voice." His voice hums lowly, kissing that spot under your ear making your shudder slightly. "So sensitive..." He comments smugly.

He had you situated on your desk. Useless things in his eyes pushed to the side to make room for you. How you got into this situation, who knows. And most importantly, who cares? He stood between your legs, up and close tasting your skin and finally feeling how fucking maluable you are in the palm of his hands. Atlas, hearing you shudder and stutter in his ear, under his touch, it was like he was in Valhalla.

"mm darling~" He purrs. "I don't hear you talking..."

You face flushes. You couldn't think straight. "R-right."

"What this article about, hm? I'm listening..." His words end with another wet kiss to your collar bone. A badge of his sincerity.

"it... it was about mythological.... p-paintings." He hums against your skin, kisses trailing your delicate skin.

"Is that right?" He murmurs, before sucking experimentally on a spot only to smirk at the gasp and sigh he elicits from you almost instantly.

"A-about gods and hah..." Loki rubs circles over your hips. "About their heavenly battles," his hands run over your underside of your thighs, smoothing over the plushness before gripping it needily, "them as legends... their- their beauty." He pulls you close to the edge, and your eyes widen at the feeling of his bulge against your inner thigh.

"No need to read about gods when you already have one in the palm of your hands, darling." His snake-like gaze meets yours, his nose brushing yours. His emerald eyes glimmer at your flushed complexion. His fingers graze the band of your leggings. "May I?" He asks softly.

You nod your head.

In a rough yet swift motion, he easily pulls down your pants past your ass and down to your thighs. You watch as his gaze darkens at the sight and you blush, embarrassed. The way his eyes are glued to the wet patch over your clothed pussy makes you squirm. "Lokii..." You whine softly at his long silence. He ignores you. His slender fingers suddenly brush your damp panties, marvelling at the way your cunt involuntarily quivers. He could feel his cock twitch at the view.

His hand comes up hard against the underside of your thigh. The harsh slap echoes in the empty office space. He towers over you and your knees held together by the band of your leggings, hugging your thighs deliciously. One of his large hands pinning you in this position from the back of your knee while the other rubs the pink mark of your skin in forgiveness.

"You stopped speaking, my pretty dove~" He says. His palm travels to your drooling pussy, and he glances at it. The smug grin on his lips widens ever so slightly, satisfied by the growing dark spot on the thin fabric. He audibly groans at the feeling; the wetness pressed against his skin, the heat that radiates from you. All for him, he thinks.

"I want to hear it. Your melodic voice, darling." He continues. Your breath hitches as he drag his middle and forefinger down your slit so easily. "You may think no one's listening... the way you murmur and talk so sweetly, to even the most unworthy of such a sound..." His flattery words drip from his silvery tongue akin to honey and poison. "You have no idea the state you reduce me to when you whisper instructions in my ear when I'm on those god-awful missions... it's the only reason I keep attending." He preens, and he sinks a thumb in your clothed fold, a devilish smirk gracing his lips at your shocked and broken moan.

His eyes glimmered at the way you struggle to walk the line of thought and the abyss of pleasure. He leans down, his lips just tickling the shell of your ear. He breathes steadily compared to your laboured breaths, pausing for a moment to resist the urge to bite you before speaking, "So I want you to speak, my love. I want to hear you babble every frivolous thought as I ravish you. Fucking you to the sound of you trying to retain a single coherent notion. Choking on your words as I listen intently... giving you the attention you deserve, darling."

He pulls back slowly, his nose lightly caressing your cheek as he meets your cloudy eyes. Through hooded lids, his intense gaze flickers over your flushed expression. Your desperate eyes and parted lips, swollen from how much you bit them just to controll yourself — only makes him want to try harder to push you over the edge. You feel his thumb press up against the hood of your clit, and the way you whimper and pull at his clothes, tells him he's the first to ever touch you like this.

"Mm, would you like that?" He whispers. "Finally give you the attention you always deserved?"

He presses on your clit, "m- y-yes! Yes Loki, please." You blurt, you felt like you were going to cry.

"Oh darling..." He removes his hands off you to cup your face. A wanton whine bubbles up into your throat until the feeling of his lips against your forehead, dissolving your pent-up frustration for just a moment. "Patience." He says softly. "I'll give you want you so clearly desire..." His forehead touches yours. Burning hot skin against his contrastingly cool complexion.

However, looking up into his eyes, they were burning with want.

"Let's start with the article's first paragraph, shall we?"

He was going to eat you alive.

[kaycode1999]

hi heard you were doing some match ups and i was wondering if u could do me one

For starters, im a demisexual girl, still debating if im bi or simply a straight ally(in that case i'd kindly ask for a male counterpart), i don't want to be shipped with mk, mei, sandy, tang,pigsy bc i only see them as friends, and ao lie bc i already got him two times

i struggle with anxiety, abandonment, self worth and attachment issues and am currently working on my insomnia

Im a really sensitive person(tho not to the point of crying)my familly calls me a litteral drama queen

I sometimes feel like a useless third wheel, i rarely get angry at anything and always get along with anyone, my friends to confuse my goofy,friendly and open minded behavior for naivety and stupidety and i really hate it

For my aesthetic: i guess im a bit of everything depending on my mood, i like it when it matches, tho i do prefer hardcore colors like fushia, purple and dark blue, i also wear some moon and star themed jewelry i make myself

Im an ambivert, i socialize pretty well but prefer alone times

My love languages is physical affection(im not too clingy since i value personal space and boundaries more), words of affirmation, flirting lots of flirting and quality time and for me communication is the key, i don't really have a type but i am looking for someone loyal, who will love me and my insecurities and will accept that im badly crazy sometimes

i like drawing, mythology, reading, writing poems, painting, listening to music depending on my mood, studying dark entities(wich freaks my parents out), walking in the city(during night time),and i have a weird habit of collecting bird skull

I match you with

Macaque

The good thing is he knows first hand what its like to deal with anxiety, abandonment, self worth, attachment issues and feeling like a useless third wheel. Which means he has special knowledge of how to help you through it and/or do what he can to make sure he's never the cause of those feelings

With everything that's happened in his past, he actually views your demeanor as strong and intelligent. In his mind it takes no effort or intelligence to be cynical and mean, it's easy to do- but being friendly and kind shows your strength of character. ( Don't let him hear your friends putting you down for it or protective mode is ACTIVATED)

It simultaneously makes his heart swell with pride and makes him super flustered to see you wearing moon-themed anything because he compares himself to the Moon and Wukong to the Sun. (Please make him some matching ones he would love it😭)

Poor Monkey is honestly affection starved so he's not used to any of it. He's so thankful that you want to give him affection even though it makes him flustered. Its so cute though, his face gets so red with any kind of affection its adorable

Person B: what is this?

Person A: affection

Person B: disgusting

Person B:

Person B: do it again

This has actually happened before 😂😂

He never imagined he'd be lucky enough to be with you, so trust me once he is he's never leaving

He loves going on walks with you at night, he also finds the skull thing interesting

If you’re having trouble getting to sleep he’ll do whatever you want to help, just talking about random stuff or humming or just generally being there for you

[sag-dab-sar]

Hello, I know that this is not really a question, but I just wanted to tell you that if you are interested in sources regarding Mesopotamian religion and mythology, the blog https://yamayuandadu.tumblr.com/ will probably be very useful for you, it is the most approachable person with in-depth knowledge of the subject and has various articles and such (this is all assuming you don't already know them, in which case this information would be a bit useless)

Nope. I reblogged & followed that individual and immediately after I did, instead of just blocking me, they wrote an entire post about how they do not respect revive polytheist religions and that you shouldn't follow them or interact with them if thats your intent. They were an unnecessary asshole, remembering it and remembering how many likes they got specially by shitting on my religion just makes me anxious so they are blocked and their name is on my filter list so that I don't see reblogs of their posts. I avoid the anxiety which is sad because they do have an incredible amount of resources. But assholes will be assholes and there are a lot of them when it comes to religion. I went back to find the post and can't since I deleted my reblog of it but they must have deleted theirs eventually since I can't find it in their archives—only the post I made after it x.

[danpuff-ao3]

Headcanons: The Half-Blood History

So I have in my head a pretty firm headcanon for the Prince family, and Eileen (due to my Severus Snape obsession) that I've always wanted to work into a story. But...well...I'm starting to doubt I can work it in anywhere. Currently it's just useless background knowledge in my head so why not put it to use and share it with you guys??

Part I: Virgil and Desdemona

So! Eileen's parents: who are they?

Her father I have named Virgil Prince.

Her mother...her mother originally had a very badass and fitting name, but it's lost in my brain somewhere. So for now, I'm calling her Desdemona.

Now this is the fun part. Desdemona was the older sister of Cantankerous Nott. You know, the guy who came up with the Sacred Twenty-Eight? Yeah. Him. Desdemona was from a proud pureblood family who really wanted to marry her off. Only...no takers. There were plenty of witches more beautiful, more charming, more wealthy than her. Her brothers got married off. Her pretty younger sister got married off. Desdemona started getting up there in age (as in, like, her mid twenties, the horror) and her father worried that he'd be stuck with her forever.

Enter: Virgil Prince.

The Prince family was very important, once upon a time. They had mountains of gold, priceless artifacts, plenty of land. More importantly, they boasted of pureblood and powerful magic. The Prince family had a long, rich history. They bred alchemists, and spellcrafters, soothsayers, and a politician or two. Then, eventually, gamblers and spendthrifts. And as their coffers grew emptier, they began to breed thieves. Until eventually the Prince name was tarnished and their wealth was eroded. All that remained of their legacy was one modest manor and a handful of heirlooms.

Despite their fall from grace, the name "Prince" still retained bits of color and intrigue. And when the hermit Virgil Prince began looking for a bride, to Pertinax Nott he was the best of bad options. He threw his daughter into Virgil's arms and wiped his hands clean of her.

(Pertinax means "persistent and stubborn" so trust me, Severus 100% is related to some guy named Pertinax. My mind will not be changed.)

Desdemona was not overly impressed by her new home or her new husband, but she made the best of her situation. She was very practical and no-nonsense and, as it happened, quite intelligent and skilled. She mended the faulty wards on the grounds, she cleaned up the garden, and (because her rotten excuse for a father didn't include a house elf with her dowry) she learned how to cook.

Better yet, Desdemona knew many languages, and was well-studied in religion, philosophy, and history.

Virgil had married Desdemona hoping to better his circumstances. Marrying a Nott felt like winning the jackpot, only to find a small dowry and in-laws with no desire to lend a helping hand. No money, no connections, nothing but a wife.

But if Desdemona had little else to recommend her, she had quite the mind, and Virgil was pleased. They found mutual respect, if not love, over deep conversations about magical theory and mythology and a number of other subjects.

Eventually they had to produce an heir. It would be a waste of their pureblood not to, even if neither was particularly interested in childrearing.

What peace and happiness they found died when their firstborn, Alaric, was born. It was well and truly buried by the birth of Ingrid. And gone without a trace by the birth of Eileen.

Shortly after Eileen's birth, Cantankerous Nott released his Sacred Twenty-Eight list. It was not a comprehensive list of all pureblood families. The Potters were omitted, due to their common Muggle name. The Princes were also omitted, a deliberate snub to his sister.

Virgil and Desdemona's bitterness grew. But if little else could be said for the Princes, they had become a team in their early years. They ranted together about Cantankerous' audacity and Pertinax's selfishness. They survived the horrors of parenthood side by side. They worked together to find good matches for their children.

And it was each other they turned to when their youngest daughter ran off with a Muggle.

Part II: Eileen Prince

Eileen Prince was raised a proper pureblood girl. Her parents were strict, and not overly affectionate. What little care they could muster went to her brother Alaric, as the oldest and the son.

Life wasn't happy, but it was life. She learned cooking and gardening from her mother. Chess from her father. Eileen kept busy by going into town. She spent her days at the library, and she joined local clubs. Gobstones became a favorite. She spent her allowance on new marbles and special boxes and bags to keep them in.

At Hogwarts, Eileen was sorted into Slytherin, to her pleasure and surprise. The Sorting Hat saw more cunning and resourcefulness in Eileen than she knew she had. Her parents were pleased, and urged Eileen to make connections while in school.

The Prince children were not very popular. Not good looking or pleasant. They weren't wealthy. They had no status. They weren't especially powerful or smart. Alaric spent his time sucking up to his peers. Ingrid kept her head down. Eileen followed her own whims. She joined the Gobstones team, the chess club, and choir. In her letters to her parents, Eileen outlined vague plans of "making alliances", which her parents cared about more than her winning competitions.

In truth, Eileen had a handful of casual friends. Other loners and oddballs like herself. Sybill Trelawney was one.

After Hogwarts, Alaric was married to an Abbott. (Sacred Twenty-Eight, their parents boasted.) Ingrid married a Flint.

For Eileen's graduation, Virgil and Desdemona gifted her a betrothal to Abaddon Carrow. They were quite pleased with their finds. They had not matched with Blacks or Malfoys, but they had chosen well for their children. Their efforts to continue the Prince line, and to improve their standing, would be slow going, but steady progress. The Prince name would achieve greatness once more.

As for Eileen...she had been somewhat aware of her parents' expectations. But it had never mattered much until, suddenly, faced with a grim future. To be married to a man older than her, who she barely knew. Expected to provide connections and resources to her brother. Expected to provide Carrow heirs.

It was not Eileen's intent to run. For all of their dysfunction, they were still family. Eileen wanted her parent's approval. She wanted what was best for her family. Duty was heavy on her shoulders. She allowed herself to be courted by Abaddon. She sat through wedding plans.

And when there was time, Eileen slipped out as she did as a child. Finding solace and freedom away from home and family.

Part III: Tobias and Eileen

On one such outing, Eileen met a Muggle named Tobias Snape.

He was a musician. He played the guitar and sang to an uncaring audience, but Eileen was struck. She stayed later than she meant to, to listen to his songs. And on the walk back to her Apparition point, Eileen sang the songs to herself.

It was overhearing this that brought Tobias to her. So few people cared about his music, after all, and he had music in his soul. Tobias asked her questions: what was her name, where was she from...So unused to attention was Eileen, she practically fled.

But returned the next day.

Tobias was not handsome, but his charm more than made up for it. He flirted with waitresses, and barmaids, and other men's dates. And though prettier women caught his fancy, he always stopped to chase Eileen instead. She was shy, but enjoyed his attentions. And Tobias appreciated Eileen's curiosity, and her musical tastes.

When Tobias performed, he played his songs just for Eileen. He took her out dancing. He walked her "home" each night (to her Apparition point, where she would Confund him.) He knew of her engagement, and was unfazed. It wasn't really serious, for either of them.

Until they realized it was.

After only a few weeks, when Eileen let slip her wedding was fast approaching, Tobias begged her to stay. He asked her to marry him in the heat of the moment. Both were shocked. But Eileen did not believe him serious, even if she wished it were true, and she told him to propose with a ring and flowers, next time.

The next time they met, Tobias had his grandmother's ring and daisies picked from the park.

Eileen never went home. She eloped with Tobias and wrote letters to her parents and to Abaddon. They sent Howlers back. Eileen had to Obliviate Tobias.

Happy and in love as they were, they were little prepared for married life. Eileen moved in with Tobias and his disapproving parents until he could afford them a home of their own. He had to quit his job as a grocer for the mines, to make ends meet. He found a small house in Cokeworth. It was small and dreary and in a bad area, but it was theirs.

Eileen cared for the house. She kept a garden. She embroidered. She sneaked out when she could to partake in Gobstones tournaments at nearby Wizarding villages. She had the occasional tea with old acquaintances. Occasional days spent walking Diagon Alley. A taste of magic, a taste of nostalgia.

But Tobias was home now. They were adjusting to life. Tobias wished he had more time to go out, and to play his music. But when he could, he would sing for Eileen and dance her around their living room. He picked flowers for her on his way home sometimes. He praised her cooking. And he called her "beautiful" when she got dolled up for him.

It wasn't perfect, but life was good. Until, of course, Tobias asked her for children.

Part IV: The Snapes

Eileen never put enough thought into anything. Of course her husband would want children. And their children had a great likelihood of being magical. And Tobias did not yet know his wife was a witch.

Eileen had little desire to be a mother, or to be outed, but even the best contraceptive potions are imperfect.

Pregnancy was miserable, but Tobias was thrilled. He worked extra hours. He spent what free time he had pampering her, and helping make room for the baby. And when Eileen insisted on giving their child an old family name (Severus for a boy, Pulcheria for a girl), Tobias agreed, however strange they were. Even Tobias' parents, Wilbur and Dorothy, were enthusiastic and helpful.

When Eileen gave birth, it was in the bitter cold darkness of winter, quite early in the morning. If Eileen could give him little else of her heritage, she gave him a name: Severus. A shared ancestor of both the Princes and the Notts. One of the many colorful characters her father once told her about. His middle name was Tobias, for his father.

Parenthood wasn't all either hoped it would be. Tobias was grouchy from the baby disturbing his sleep. And grouchy that Eileen was too tired to cook special meals or dress herself up. He had to continue working long hours to support his new child. There was less time for leisure or romance than ever. But Tobias bragged when he could about his little family. He kept photos in his wallet to show coworkers and shopkeepers. Each night he would hold Severus for a while and sing him lullabies. On his days off, he would take naps with Severus on his chest, to give Eileen extra time to cook and clean and breathe.

Some days, Tobias remembered to be grateful. Remembered that all of his hard work and sacrifices were worth it.

Until one day...there was magic.

There were signs of magic earlier on, that were easy to ignore. Little zaps (static) and tickles (just an itch) or other strange sensations (just a draft, or a spider's web.) Ignorant Tobias could come up with a number of excuses, while Eileen turned a blind eye. But when Severus was a toddler, Tobias played with him one afternoon. And when Tobias spooked Severus, Severus cried and was encased in a protective bubble that Tobias could not penetrate.

Eileen rushed to comfort Severus as Tobias stared in shock. And were it not bound to happen again and again, Eileen would have Obliviated him. Instead, she calmly explained about magic. Tobias said not a word and left. He returned days later, wary and reserved, but they didn't speak of it.

Tobias' betrayal and fury were exposed in bits and pieces over time. Ugly names for his wife and child. Snapping over the littlest of things. Cringing back when Severus reached out for him. Critique for Eileen's cooking and housework and garden. He spent money they didn't have for pub nights with his friends. Eileen took odd jobs to bring in more money. Mending garments, babysitting, housecleaning. She sold a great number of her Gobstones and traded the gold for Muggle currency.

The good life was over. Tobias had given up his hobbies and his free time and his music to work a physically demanding job. And for what? An evil witch, who lied and tricked him and gave him a demon for a son.

As for Eileen, she couldn't help but resent her son. He had stolen her body, and her time, and her energy. And worst of all, he'd killed Tobias' love for her. And when Tobias began to drink more and more, and taking his anger out on her, that was Severus' fault, too.

Part V: Severus Snape

Severus had a few good memories in life. Moments when troubles were forgotten, and his parents were in love and happy. Those moments were much too rare. And they never lasted long enough.

There was never much money, or food. Or affection. Now and again, his father would sing. And when his father was away, his mother would tell him stories or show him magic.

They visited his paternal grandparents once a year. They were kind, but awkward; they found Severus strange compared to their other, more average grandchildren.

Fewer still were visits to his maternal grandparents. Only at her most desperate, Eileen would plead for help, and she would surrender herself to dinner with the Princes, to be belittled and derided by her whole family. Worse still their treatment of Severus, the half-blood. Virgil and Desdemona would brag of their proper pureblooded grandchildren. Tarquin Prince, son of Alaric. Agatha and Beatrice, Ingrid's daughters. They told Eileen how well Abaddon Carrow was doing. About his pretty pureblood wife and their pureblood children.

Severus dreaded and longed for visits to Prince Manor. It was the only exposure he had to magic when young. He envied his cousins. He explored the manor and its objects. He sneaked away to read books, when he could. He thirsted for knowledge. For power. He wanted badly to prove himself to the family who turned down their noses at him.

Best of all, for all the ridicule Eileen let him suffer, she was always more loving, after. She would stroke his hair, and buy him a small treat. She reminded him, vehemently, that he was a Prince. She was more generous with her stories, those days. Family history. Magical theory.

Like his mother before him, Severus stayed away from his home and ventured out into Cokeworth. He spent long hours in the library. He learned to steal small objects from the grocer's. He hid in the woods and tried to call forth his magic. He sneaked his mother's Gobstones in his pockets to play by himself.

Severus had his mother's curious, explorative spirit. And his father's romantic heart, and intense nature. Worst still, he was bright. Too bright. In school, his classmates envied him for his excellent grades. His teachers hated his bad attitude, and how bored he was with his lessons. They looked down on him for his ratty clothes, and his strange behavior. They whispered about his drunk, adulterous father. They gossiped about the fights he got in, and his treatment of his wife. They talked louder still when Tobias lost his job.

Home life was worse. Neither Tobias nor Eileen knew how to handle a son so much brighter than they were. Neither ever cared much for academics. They were confused and ashamed in the face of his intelligence. This only earned him more of his father's ire and his mother's bitterness.

Life was lonely. Severus had very little, but he clung to what he had: his intelligence, his magic, his potential, his family history, his pride. He learned to lie from his mother, and fight from his father. He held his head high when he could, and hunched his shoulders when he couldn't.

At nine, he was in for a real treat: a Muggle girl with magic.

Lily was fierce and bright and powerful. For the first time, Severus felt a true connection with another person. Lily was kind to him, and genuine. And Severus counted her among the gifts he clung to.

Part VI: The Half-Blood Prince

All of Severus' hopes were pinned on Hogwarts. And Hogwarts let him down.

Being Sorted into Slytherin was a blessing and a curse. He hated to be separated from Lily, but was proud at following his family's footsteps. His cousins pretended not to know him. His peers looked down on him for his Muggle blood and his Muggle name. But Slytherins at least banded together and looked after their own. They were displeased with outsiders attacking Severus; but they didn't dare stand in the Marauder's way, either.

Severus was smart, and skilled, but it mattered little when other people more attractive and more charming were gifted, too. The teachers had their pets. And as ever, Severus was overlooked due to others' preconceived notions.

Lily was his only true friend. But Severus made others over time. He was not popular in Slytherin, but he was part of them. Slytherin House had a strong sense of fraternity. It was like having family, in a way. (For the dysfunctional sense of family Severus already had.) When his housemates saw use for him, Severus allowed himself to be used. It felt like approval, like acceptance.

Severus honed his mind and his power in secret. And in secret he owned the name he was not allowed to claim aloud: Prince. The Half-Blood Prince. It was rebellion and pride at once. Severus quickly finished homework to continue learning on his own. He made potions and spells. He experimented, and invented. He was going to prove his worth in the end. He was born for greatness, as all Princes were.

Part VII: The End of the Line

For love of magic; for the want of knowledge and power; for pride, for revenge; for all of the values he learned from the Princes and from Slytherin, Severus joined the Dark Lord's cause. And when faced with the horrible reality of the cause he'd joined, Severus changed his mind, changed his course.

Eileen raged at him when she learned the truth. But at Severus' urging, she and Tobias left Cokeworth.

The Prince name never again regained status. But all of the potential of their blood bred true in Severus. For his lowly birth, his tainted blood; for all of his mistakes, his infamy; the lack of status, wealth, charm, and looks; it was Severus who respected and understood magic as the Princes of old had. It was Severus who was dedicated to the craft, and ingenious enough to push magic forward, when it had stagnated for so long. Few wizards in modern times create new spells and potions. Many of Wizarding blood take magic for granted, and rest on their laurels, thinking there is little else to find or improve.

It was Severus who learned many skills. Severus, who honed his power. Severus who made connections, for good and for ill. Severus who was strong enough to have his mind changed, and own up to his mistakes. Severus, who was brave enough to look danger in the eye day after day. Severus who atoned for his sins, in the classroom and on the battlefield.

Severus, who died a hero.

(Sorry we're talking headcanons and I refuse to believe he's dead, okay.)

[jasper-pagan-witch]

Hello again Mx Jasper!

I recently got my hands on these card decks; the deck of many things and the deck of many fates. I was captivated by the art and felt I needed them in my possession, but now I realize they may be good for pop culture divination!

I just wanted to share, since it made me giddy to realize this ! I know they're not used for divination in D&D, and the text on the cards will be (sort of, but not entirely) useless for divination rather than gameplay, but I'm excited to have this! You're definitely an inspiration in me beginning pop culture magic, so sharing my joy is definitely something I wanted to do:)

On that same note, have you done or tried anything new recently in the realm of pop culture magic?

Hope you're well! :)

~ Pythios (they/them)

YOOOOOOOO, welcome to the pop culture magic sphere, Pythios! Yeah, divination with pop culture card decks is always interesting because you've just gotta fuckin wing it.

As for me, I recently put some sleeves on Bayard the PokeOracle, because she hasn't had sleeves and her cards are pretty fucking ancient and not well cared for. Got some nice sleeves that depict some Mountain basic lands from Magic The Gathering, because I love me some Red. It's also one of the few incomplete sets that I had 54 of. Bayard is a chunky deck compared to my other DIY decks.

With anything else? Not much, really. Been working primarily with Cernunnos more than anyone else, so it's been a lot of "go out into the liminal areas of your farm and touch grass". But I have a feeling that someone else is knocking on the door (so to speak) and I can't figure out if it's Demeter, Karametra, or Demeter-as-Karametra. I don't have room in my life for another deity at the moment, but whoever it is is making their presence fairly obvious.

Been wanting to get back into Elder Scrolls magic and update @the-college-of-whispers again. I've been working on an Armor spell for FAR TOO LONG but I haven't tested it and ensured that it works or what I need to change. Bah, the trouble of writing your own spells.

There's also the fact that I wanna write a Dragon Ball Super-Necronomicon crossover fanfic, but that's not really magic even though I'm bringing my own knowledge of the occult and mythology into it.

~Jasper

[moonctzeny]

Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten  x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

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The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

 "Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.  

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you. 

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough. 

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he 

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made. 

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you. 

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning. 

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight. 

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him. 

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings. 

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines. 

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty. 

“He doesn’t even love you” 

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?” 

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance. 

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling? 

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands. 

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over. 

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you. 

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

[prose-for-hire]

Guardian of the lost soul

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: if what the reader dress as an angel (kinda like Supernatural angels) and she finds the scoobies gang  in the haunted house with the costumes magically change them. (you know the episode ^-^)  only this time , Spike sees her wings and in angel terms that's a soulmate.

Requested by: @everlastingartist​

A/N: Kind of a soulmate au I think? I am not familiar with the Supernatural angels (yet - I plan on actually watching it soon) I did google them and I’m still none the wiser lol. So this is my own interpretation of what was requested! I chose a guardian angel, and twisted it in my own way. It is very made up but that’s what I’m here to do!

Also I mashed up two Halloween episodes together for this one but Spike doesn’t have a chip. Not even a soul. But he finds his soulmate.🖤🦇

You loved Halloween in Sunnydale, it never disappointed. The pumpkins were freshly carved, there was candy everywhere you turned and kids really did love dressing up and making a nuisance of themselves. Even when you were running for your life the mood always picked up somewhere after midnight. And hey, being friends with a very protective Slayer had its benefits.

You were basically skipping around the streets, you were excited about going to the haunted house. You had tried to convince Willow, along with buffy to take the ghost costume off but she flat out refused. Even when you begged all the way to the party. You wanted to get to the end so you could join the party with your friends and you waited briefly for everyone to show up so you could enter together. While you and Willow waited outside, a figure in a dark cloak pushed past you. There was something about them that you recognised but they muttered some insult at you for being in their way so you decided to just ignore them. Eventually, everyone arrived and you were able 

You had chosen to dress as an angel. A guardian angel. Not the stereotypical kind, one you had read of in some of Giles’ thick mythology books. You had been bored and the passages had been surprisingly interesting in an I’m-so-bored-I’d-read-the-back-of-a-cereal-packet kind of way. It spoke of the kinds of angels, of the truth about how they operate rather than those spoken of in popular culture. Some of your costume was white however as you wanted people to at least recognise what you had come as (although nobody except Willow had got it). 

You went through the various rooms together and had a laugh at some of the more ridiculous spooks in the house. There had been a slight tension a few words exchanged but mostly you were having a nice time. Everyone was squabbling over which way to go next and you had lost interest, managing to break away from the others.

As you did this, you saw the hooded figure again. You were sure you recognised the flashes you had seen of the person’s face. You left your friends for a moment to tap them on the shoulder and who should turn to face you but the big bad of the moment. Spike. You hadn’t faced him alone yet but he had always singled you out when you were with the others. The conversation always turned suggestive, which annoyed Buffy to no end and made you try to hide yourself when you were with the others.

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t love the attention though. Hope that he would catch your eye. You longed for even a moment alone with him, although you were well aware of the danger. You couldn’t help like him but there was no way you would ever admit that to your friends. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to suppress a smile.

“Thought I’d drop by… see what tasty… treats Halloween has to offer” He closed the space between you as his voice became a little huskier with every step. His hand was on the wall, palm flat against it. His arm blocking you in as he slowly scanned your body before returning to your face.

“What has the devil got in store for you this Halloween do you reckon pet?” He asked, the smirk audible in his voice, “Somethin’ naughty no doubt…” He added, biting his lip teasingly.

“I’m an angel. Always preferred them anyway” You shrugged. It had been a very low blow and when you saw his expression darkening into anger rather than lust, you backtracked – knowing better than to get him mad, “To the devil, I mean”

“Bollocks – where are the wings? The halo? And you’re not foolin’ anyone wearing that white-” he gestured wildly to the corresponding area where each item should have been with the hand that wasn’t leaning against the wall. You smiled, about to respond when someone interrupted.

“Spike!” Buffy shouted, having turned to find you in the haunted house. She was relieved to see you (as she had lost the others) but she was not pleased to see the vampire that still had you boxed in, pressed pretty close against you.

Buffy made light work of hauling him away and trying to throw him out of the house completely. She tried to find the front door but it had gone. You were now aware you were trapped inside this now truly haunted house. No, it was worse. It had turned into a murder house as half the student body upstairs had started to scare themselves to death almost before the real threat had.

Everyone was rushing past you and as Spike smelled fresh blood, he ran in the opposite direction to where the others were coming from, straight into the carnage. His stomach was rumbling and he was ready for a decent meal.

Everything was going on at once and you wanted it to slow down, or at least give you chance for a breather. There were too many threats at play tonight. As if the powers had requested it this way, a busy scene of threat and revelations for their own personal enjoyment. 

As you tried again and again to leave and to help find the others, things started to get worse. You had now lost Buffy and were trying to find her by (you guessed it) calling out her name which was the best way to attract anything other than good luck. You had to fight off some cobwebs and now, your own body it seemed. You were hurting, doubled over. Something was happening. You sunk to your knees, grimacing. Nothing was going your way. 

It was a strange night. The strangest Halloween you had experienced. The others were lost and at the same moment, Willow turned into a real ghost. Xander a real soldier and Buffy was now a genuine high society lady from the 1700s. It was spooky and not in a cute way.

You had managed to get to your feet, pulling on the cobwebs as they attacked your head again. As you looked down checking you had removed any stray webbing, you saw that you were glowing. Literally. You appeared human still - no wings or halos but there was a strange feeling that you had aged hundreds of years in just a few seconds. Not in appearance, that was still your skin and your face. But in knowledge. As if you had read every book known to man and then some. You felt powerful. Strange.

You walked around, able to know what was happening in every room. You managed to get places just by thinking about it. Able to protect people before they succumbed to the terrors the house had in store. You didn’t know how this was happening, but you knew better than to question it.

You had hope. You had a purpose and you were getting used to adapting to different people and their needs. That was until it came to something you needed. You turned and saw your friends through a two way mirror. They had all found each other but you couldn’t get to them. They were trying to remember who they were and come up with a plan. You started to panic, banging your fist on the mirror that you could see them through but they didn’t hear you. You hurriedly left through a side door to try and get to them seeing as your previous power wasn’t working. But you never made it to your friends. You had walked straight into someone. The one someone that you always managed to find, no matter what.

Spike had appeared. He seemed the same except... was that a heart beat? You frowned as he stepped towards you, the swagger still in tact.

 “You listened to me then, pet? About time” He muttered as you looked at him confused. You didn’t understand. You looked around for some kind of clue until he spoke again, “The wings. You put ‘em on. Knew it would complete the look… not that you need to be wearing any more clothin’ items” He added, the trademark smirk on his face as he almost prowled towards you further.

“I’m not wearing any wings…” You said slowly as he came to stand right in front of you, leaving not so much as room to breath between you. He frowned, and looked behind you before looking back into your eyes. He could see the wings as clear as anything. They had a large wingspan, it was kind of impossible to miss. He reached out the touch them and you felt his fingers. You frowned, checking behind you. There they were, bat-like rather than the feathered kind you had expected and almost translucent whilst appearing closer to your skin tone. He found them aesthetically very appealing. Almost as if it were a part of you. He just stared, almost in awe as he felt they were warm the texture as soft as your skin.

 It came to you suddenly. The folklore you had been researching. The mythology. The only one that may see the wings of the angel is their soulmate. Their one eternal love. It was said that every angel had a soulmate and that no matter how long they lived, they should find their soul no matter how seemingly impossible. No matter how many times they were lost, they would always be found. And you had found yours. Your love.

You and Spike had been less than useless during the fight to escape the haunted house and regain your own lives back. You were perfectly happy right here. Locked in each others gaze. A happiness neither of you had felt before until this moment. Until this revelation. You had been sharing. Talking so easily to one another. Him telling you stories of his past, and you surprising yourself with stories of your own. Ones that could match his. You felt an entrenched need to protect him. To hold you into him so that no harm could ever befall him. 

The chaos going on around you was now secondary to your story. You holed up in a room together, Spike never looking away from you. The guardian angel in you was screaming for you to help the others again, but your heart was set on him. On relearning of your love. You had faith in your friends abilities anyway.

He leaned in, his thumb trailing your face and lingering near your lips. He had thought about this for so long. His usual crude quips had been founded in truth. Forged to both show how he felt and camouflage them at the same time. He felt for you so deeply his soul had made an unwitting appearance back into his life. Whenever you were around his heart felt as if it may break free from his ribcage in the hopes of greeting yours.

You closed your eyes as he did, the build up to this kiss achingly slow. You could feel his breath on his face he was so close. His touch was warm and familiar, his lips made for yours. You could feel it. The anticipation almost became too much as he finally grazed your lips.

But, just as suddenly as it was cast, the spell broke. The feeling of danger returned to your gut as you were in Spike’s presence. Your kiss never deepening. Your stomach flipping as you snapped opened your eyes. Spike’s vampire instincts kicked back in and it was resoundingly telling him that he was hungry. Your scent was so enticing to him, his face changed of its own accord. His fangs so close to you but you knew he wouldn’t kill you. You knew it as if it were fact. As if it were gravity or the colour of the sky being blue. Spike loved you and wouldn’t harm you. They were each true sentences, you had never been so sure.

Buffy, however, now fresh from being bound in the sensibilities of a woman with no aspirations other than to be pretty was ready for a fight. She had fought to escape the haunted house and now she would fight the nearest big bad in sight. Spike. She wrenched him from your neck.

But when he drew back, he had the same look in his eye as he had only moments before. Your soulmate was still right here in front of you, there was nobody that could convince you otherwise. And believe me, Spike really tried since then.

Buffy and Spike traded blows. Neither became victorious, but you were able to leave the house and Giles had somehow managed to force Ethan Rayne into reversing the curse he had put on your costumes. 

After that long Halloween night, your mind barely stopped thinking about him. Sometimes you walked around after dark to see if he would come along and pretend to eat you as an excuse to just talk to you. He often wished to find an excuse to see you. Without knowing what it was, he felt it too. Deep within. Stronger since Halloween night. Sometimes he found himself standing around in places he knew you would frequent just so he could watch you. Catch a glimpse of you. Although, he had been doing this before Halloween as well.

You remembered so much more than that night, however. Memories that should have been long since buried of you and Spike finding each other over and over in other places and times still lingered as you wished his thumb still would along your jaw. You still remembered those memories and you wrote them all down before you could forget. They were like dreams, something you knew so well but struggled to recall in enough detail to satisfy.

You would forever carry a piece of his soul around with you now. That feeling just couldn’t go away, you wouldn’t let it. It was as if his soul were a locket hung around your neck. You would guard it with your life. Keep it close to your heart. 

He would come back to you, you were sure of it and you were happy to wait until that day came.

[percabethfiles]

Charlie

Uh... Hello? Anybody still here? I haven't been around in years and years. But I keep my fandoms stored in some corner of my brain waiting for something to tug them out. And of all things this time it was Taylor Swift re-releasing her old songs, because I used to imagine so many percabeth scenes listening to "Fearless". So have this little something that's been sitting unfinished in my archives for years now.

Remember that time Percy saw Sadie Kane and thought “Hey, this is what mine and Annabeth’s daughter would look like”? Yes.

(Also there are small nods to that fic I wrote about Logan, Hidden Heritage, but I've been meaning to re-write it someday because there were SO MANY PLOT HOLES omg)

When they find out it’s a girl it’s a bit too soon to know for sure, or so the doctor tells them. They’ll have to wait for the next appointment to know for certain. “So don’t go buying any tiny dresses yet,” he jokes and they laugh along, but they’ve been together for approximately eighteen years now, they can tell what the other’s thinking with a glance and the ecstatic grin that breaks through their lips lets him know they’re on the same page. Too late. They’re already thinking plush bow and arrows and a Merida costume for her first Halloween.

Percy tries to keep his cool. As the weeks progress, he tries not to get his hopes up, but in his heart he knows already. They hadn’t really had a preference before, they’d been too happy knowing their baby was fully human and had all its limbs (with the number of deities they’d pissed off, you never knew), but a little girl? It feels right after their two boys, it feels like their family will be complete.

(He thinks about a slight blonde girl with streaked hair and a British accent dropping from the sky on a magic camel, remembers thinking “if Annabeth and I had a daughter…” and his chest squeezes tight with happiness so raw he has a little trouble breathing)

When the doctor beams at them next appointment and says “Congratulations, Jackson family, it really is a girl,” he’s not surprised, but no less elated. He doesn’t hear the lame joke about Jackson Five, he’s too busy trying to be a manly man and not burst into tears because he’s going to have a daughter. When Annabeth’s in the other room paying for the appointment, and he’s waiting for the doctor to print the really impressive high tech 3D picture of the ultrasound, the man asks him “So did you go ahead and buy a tiny dress anyway?”

Percy blushes.

The man shakes his head in amusement. “Every time”.

His work colleagues, proud dads of little girls themselves, try to terrorize him with tales of tea parties and future boyfriends, and Percy thinks somewhere in the middle of all that teasing they mean well, but really, he’s mostly annoyed. It’s not like he’s new to parenthood, he’s got two sons already and they seem to be turning out okay, and before, when Logan and Nathan were just a nice dream for the future, there was Estelle, the little sister Percy had never expected, but loved to bits all the same.

And then Charlie is born.

She’s tiny, warm and pink, all curled up in her yellow cable-knit blanket, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out of a tiny, tiny beanie, features scrunched into the most adorable variation of a grumpy face. He’s not new to parenthood, he’s been here twice before, but the rush of affection and protectiveness and awe and raw love is just as genuine. He’s smiling like a dork, can’t seem to stop, walking from side to side, avidly searching her traits. She’s bigger than Nate was when he’d been born, but smaller than Logan. Her hair was light, like Nate’s, would it stay blonde or darken with time? Would her eyes be like his or Annabeth’s? And oh, she had her mother’s nose (they all did).

It never fails to amaze him how such a small, vulnerable being can shake up his whole world until it’s made a space for her. And he’s done this before, he’s no first time sailor this time, he’d thought he had it all under control. But she blinks and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and a frowny face and—they’re green. Her eyes are the blue-green Logan’s are, Percy’s are.

(He’s got two sons who are his life, and he does love all his children equally, but holding his daughter for the first time, he thinks he understands his friends’ warnings. He doesn’t love her more, it’s just… different. It’s special.)

When he goes back to work, Nick takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. He claps him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“I told you.”

He’s completely wrapped around her finger already.

It’s not too different, he finds out. Especially having been pre-trained by Estelle. He’s got to brush up on his Disney princess knowledge, and hair braiding skills. He hasn’t gotten much better at color coordinating the polka dotted bows and tiny shoes, but Charlie is really forgiving. She is a very happy baby, much happier and easy going than any of the boys had been.

She’s also fucking crazy.

She is smaller and skinnier than her brothers, likes to wear frilly dresses and talk to plush animals and dance around the house in a pink tutu, but she’s wild. She never learned to crawl, just held on to the couch until she was wobbling on two feet, and it seemed like the very next day she was running across the house, the mall, the park, and if he turned his eyes away for one second, she was shooting off in the streets and nearly getting run over.

He’d found her dangling from the kitchen cabinets, trying to reach the cowering cat. She had a phase when she thought she could fly and she would climb furniture and stairs and the window sill and just… Launch herself into the air expecting her flying powers to manifest spontaneously. If they hadn’t been trying to raise them away from the whole mythological world, he would have sat her down and clarified that she had the wrong Olympian Grandparent in mind. She might have had more luck jumping into the ocean.

She had a way to jut out her lower lip, and turn those big green eyes on him that could render his every effort to be a responsible parental presence useless.

Besides, she was so funny. He could never muster enough anger to discipline her, because if he found her on the kitchen table covered in peanut butter, somehow sporting a very sticky Mohawk, and looking entirely unapologetic, well, he just couldn’t stop laughing.

One day he’s coming home from work and he hasn’t even pulled the key from the lock when Charlie calls out ‘you’re back daddy,’ in what sounds vaguely like a new jersey accent. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, drowning in one of Annabeth’s bathrobes, pink plastic barbie sunglasses on, holding a pooh bear sippy cup with one hand and a pinky stretched out.

��Charlie, what are you doing?”

“It’s wine Wednesday, daddy.”

“It’s what?”

“Wine Wednesday.”

He had half a mind to check if her sippy cup actually contained wine because they hid their alcohol way up in the cabinets she can’t reach but that girl could climb like a monkey. He knows he should follow that remark up with some kind of questioning of where she’d even heard of ‘wine Wednesdays’ and then explain that kids don’t drink wine or some other kind of responsible parent speech, but a sudden burst of incredulous laughter bubbles up in his throat and he takes refuge in the kitchen, lest he encourages her behavior.

He finds Annabeth there, hand over her mouth, clearly in stitches over their daughter’s performance. He wants to question if she gave her permission to wear her bathrobe but finding his wife nearly doubled over in silent laughter in the kitchen is too much and he finally lets out the guffaw he’d been trying to hold on to.

It’s not the first time Charlie leaves them breathless with laughter, and he’s almost scared of what she’s going to cook up in the future.

Charlie is a hellion.

There isn’t one person safe from her pranks, but she’s so adorable she hardly ever catches hell for it, and she’s learning to use it in her favor – thankfully, just in time for her parents to develop immunity to her puppy eyes. And she’s… difficult, yes, but not always, and not in a terrible way. For all her climbing the roof, organizing illegal cookie sales, getting in fights with her classmates, she’s not a bad kid. She’s got Percy’s penchant for befriending the kids no one wants to go near, and defending her ragtag team of losers. She’s loyal to a fault, and it gets her in trouble often.

She and Nate have epic jealousy fights over everything, including – but not limited to – Logan’s attention, the crayons, the biggest piece of cake and all the videogame characters in the world are not enough, they will always want whatever the other picked. It gives them many, many headaches. Logan, on the other hand, positively spoils her, and whenever Charlie gets in trouble they can be sure to find her hiding behind her big brother while he gives them this solemn look and says “It’s ok, mom and dad, Charlie promises she won’t do it again. We’ve talked.”

When the whole “Logan being attacked by a dracanae in school and thus finding out his Olympian heritage” debacle came to pass, and they started frequenting camp again, there was nowhere in the entire Camp Charlie would rather be than the stables. She’d spend hours there with the Aphrodite kids, brushing the pegasi and talking to them endlessly about all her classmates and her friends, and her dolls, and her new dress, and the new book grandma gave her. It was all really cute until Percy realized the pegasi were talking back, and she fully understood their replies.

And it’s funny, really, because Logan had taken after Percy, to a point where bathing him had been hard as a child because he tended to stay dry in the tub, and Nathan was Annabeth to a T, but Charlie was a perfect mix of them both.

He guesses it makes sense it would be so explosive.

When Charlie is twelve, she gets kicked out of school.

Percy is not overly worried about it himself – the number of schools he’d been kicked out of reached double digits, and this was only her first – but he is worried about how she will feel. Getting the boot from a place that’s housed you for years, where your friends are, where everyone already knows you and having to start over is never pleasant, no matter how used to it you were.

He’d expected the school to have gotten tired of all her pranks and misbehaving, which was fair, he guessed. But when Annabeth comes home from the meeting with the school director, she is seething, and not at their daughter. Charlie is angry too. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever seen his daughter well and truly pissed off. The two of them are a sight for nightmares, both blondes standing side by side ranting with righteous fury, they look ready to start a revolution. What he gets from her angry snarls and Charlie’s rushed rambling is that Charlie had talked back to a teacher that was picking on the autistic kid and demeaning the thirteen year old who was repeating sixth grade.

She’d called him a brain-washing small minded overgrown bully who, he was quoting, didn’t get enough love from his parents.

And Percy is so proud his eyes even get a little misty.

Because he’s getting old and sentimental and raising kids is very hard. No one knows what they’re doing, not one person, not even the fancy psychologists with those books on raising perfect, well rounded, high-achieving members of society that Annabeth insisted on reading when she was pregnant with Logan. You do your best and you hope for the best, and you don’t know what you get until it’s basically too late to do anything about it. And even if he did have the best mom in the history of the entire world to draw example from, he was also half of an absent Olympian father whose heritage condemned him to dance in and out of battlefields half his life.

He’s always been terrified of being a crap father.

He looks at Charlie cussing out with every mild version of actual cuss words, stalking around the kitchen like a little lioness in a cage, furious at the unfairness of the whole situation, caring less about being expelled and more about who was going to defend her friends from that awful teacher when she’s gone.

His daughter is only twelve, but she’s already so brave, such a force of nature. She won’t stand for injustice, and she won’t take insult lying down. And she’s so kind. She’s growing up, and the person she is slowly turning out to be… is good.

And something in his heart shifts and settles down, smooths over old fears and anxious thoughts.

Percy doesn’t mean to brag, but he thinks he’s not doing half bad as a parent.

[thetypedwriter]

Lore Book Review

Lore Book Review by Alexandra Bracken 

Lore by Alexandra Bracken was one of 2021’s most anticipated YA novels and it's easy to see why. The plot summary itself is enough to pull you in with the intriguing concoction of calling it the combination of The Hunger Games and the Percy Jackson series. 

What’s not to love when you fuse the illicit danger of Katniss Everdeen with the mythological enchantment of Rick Riordan’s masterpiece?

Turns out, quite a lot unfortunately. 

Before I get into why this book didn’t live up to the insurmountable hype it built up, I’ll attempt to give a basic summary. The key word being attempt as a good portion of this novel’s plot was a mind boggling and convoluted mess. 

The book takes place in modern day New York which Bracken likes to remind you every other paragraph with small snippets about how the city that never sleeps smells like sewage and is yet still the best place on earth apparently. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love New York as much as the next person, but the pandering to the Big Apple got annoying after awhile. 

Within the cantankerous city lives a girl named Lore which we are introduced to by means of her kicking ass in an underground Chinese restaurant’s fighting ring. 

Pretty strong start. 

Lore’s world (and the reader’s frankly) is tipped upside down when Lore’s long lost childhood friend, Castor, reappears to warn her that he is looking for her. Terrified, Lore is then at first unwillingly thrust back into the world in which she was born-a world dominated by violence, bloodlines, and the Greek gods who are very much alive and out for vengeful retribution. 

In a very exposition-dump heavy conversation, we learn that Lore is the last of Perseous’ line with the rest of her family having been horrifically murdered, that a week long event called the Agon occurs every seven years in which the original nine Greek gods or their reincarnated selves become mortal for seven days, and that a series of killing often happen because if you kill a Greek god you then become that Greek god as well as inhabit their powers, abilities, and immortality. 

Well, until the next Agon that is. 

The currently reincarnated God by the name of Wrath is attempting to end the Agon by killing all the other Gods, but in order to do it he needs to wield a special weapon called the Aegis. 

Unfortunately, only the Perseides can wield this shield (for some reason) and thus, Wrath is out to get his hold on Lore as the last of her line so that he can bring this eons old competition to an end with himself as the sole victor and only remaining God. 

Confused?

I’d be surprised if you weren’t. 

Now, I love Greek mythology. I’ve read the classics and would say I’m fairly up to date on the stories, the legends, the gods, and the stories they represent. I’m not an expert, but I would say I’m  knowledgeable on who the major figures are and what they stood for. 

I genuinely think this book would have been miserable for anyone that didn’t know anything about Greek mythology.

 Bracken does a terrible job of explaining what the hell is happening at any given point, and she often throws out allusions and references to Greek mythology without bothering to explain a single shred of information about it. 

In addition, after this laughably and poorly explained world and plot at the beginning, it is almost never explained again. It’s brought up, as are names and titles and weapons and relationships, but it’s never explained in a way that’s feasibly understandable. 

At the beginning of the novel Bracken lists who all the important characters are, their bloodlines, and their titles.

 I soon figured out why, as every other sentence a name like Wrath or Reveler or Tidebringer or whoever was brought up, and it was impossible to keep track of so I didn’t even bother. 

Even Lore brings up that the names are ridiculous, which I appreciate, but the meta moment of clarity doesn't make it any better. 

Also, what Lore and her friends get up to over 90% of the novel is a muddled mass of bewilderment. 

Why do Lore and Castor and the others need to find Artemis? I don’t know, but sure, whatever, sounds good. Why was Lore the last of her line again? Oh yeah, right, okay, I guess. Wait, Castor died? Oh, he didn’t? Why not? Oh, we’re not going to explain it. Sure, sure. 

Throughout this entire novel, what the characters are doing and what is happening is almost impossible to follow with the way it's presented and the way Bracken developed her world. I think this was a really cool idea that had very poor execution. 

Points for the originality and the inclusion of Greek mythology, but all of the positives were taken away when that originality was flushed down the drain with a lack of explanation and logic. 

Lore very much reminded me of a shoot-em up, bang-em up action movie. Almost every other chapter was some sort of super intense, super climactic fight scene, chase, theft, break-in, etc. 

Now. I do think action scenes are hard to write and I think Bracken actually did an incredible job of writing action in a way that was entertaining and thrilling. 

However, when the action takes place every ten pages it gets really old, really quick. Towards the end, I downright started skimming the fight scenes, because they lacked so little depth and stakes and we had read so much action at the end point that it had lost all vigor and vitality. 

Continuing with the action movie metaphor, most action movies focus solely on the bright explosions and the crazy fight scenes as their selling point of the whole movie, often to the detriment of the characters, plot, and development. 

Now, some people like this. I am not these people. 

I find action movies boring as most of my enjoyment from consuming media comes from the characters and the developments they undergo. 

My biggest criticism with Lore, other than the astonishing storytelling, is by far the characters. I just...didn’t care. About any of them. 

Bracken tried to make Lore come across as a strong, opinionated, fierce, angry female character and while sometimes she succeeded, more often than not I found Lore temperamental, aggravating, impulsive, selfish, and shallow. 

Bracken very much invoked the tell-not-show strategy that makes any book hard to get through. While there were some decent moments of showing instead of just stating, more often than not, Bracken would tell us that Lore was strong by having other people say it or others calling her weak. 

I appreciated Bracken’s feminist agenda and how strongly Lore felt about gender inequality, even if it was a bit heavy-handed at times. Still, I did appreciate this inclusion of civil rights on this front, even if some of the circumstances to incite it were ridiculous or over the top. 

In addition, I hated that there was all this backstory that we were just told but not shown. Like in my last review of Wilder Girls, Lore suffers from an intrinsic failure of getting me onboard with these characters and their relationships by telling me how I should feel about them instead of exposing them through action. 

I was told:

Lore and Castor haven't seen each other for seven years, but my gosh, Castor is just the best and is so beautiful. Ensue obligatory YA romance. 

Lore has a best friend! Yeah. Her name is Iro. Here she is! Um. Okay. Why was this necessary?

Miles is just the coolest best friend ever. Like, look how cool and chill he is. How funny is it that he has no idea what’s happening? Really not funny at all. He was a useless character used to build empty stakes. 

  The list goes on and on, but Bracken will throw out some sort of fact or relationship and just expect the reader to go “Okay!” Which. I didn’t. On any of those occurrences. 

Often Bracken would do this in the use of flashbacks at the most inopportune times (during a fight scene, after someone was injured, right before a huge revelation, etc). These flashbacks were the worst. I do not care for adolescent Lore and child Lore was somehow even worse. 

The romance in this book, much like an action movie, is off to the side and really only there to fulfill the trope of having a romance. 

Lore and Castor are boring. I don’t know what else to say. Castor is too perfect to be likable and Lore is the opposite. Nothing about their romance was unique or well-crafted. 

The kiss between Van and Miles I also saw coming a hundred miles away. I also thought it was pointless as Van and Miles had known each for six days and had had maybe two conversations. So. No. I didn’t care at all about the romances. 

It actually made me laugh and scoff simultaneously at the end when Lore is looking at Van, Castor, Iro and Miles and smiles because she realizes that these people are her family. 

Ummm. Sorry?

Castor disappeared for seven years and you’ve been reunited for seven days. You’ve hated Van your whole life until this week. You also haven’t seen Iro in seven years and she tried to kill you at least twice in this book. Miles is...fine, but again useless. I don’t even know why Bracken included him except to make Lore worry about him which she only did about half of the time. 

Phew. 

I know this review has come across largely negative, so this might be surprising, but I didn’t hate it. It lacks substance and depth, but it was entertaining. 

Just like an action movie.

 If you want some hyped fights and a plot that really doesn't matter and characters that won’t stick with you, but a fast-paced narrative that keeps you on your toes nonetheless, then you would probably enjoy this. 

It’s like the equivalent of watching a James Bond movie or one of the millions of the Fast and Furious. Bracken tries to develop the characters, but at the end of the day, most of the story is made up of cool fights, magic, and weapons. If that’s your speed then you would probably really love Lore. 

Recommendation: Action, action, action. If you want some high intensity, get-your-blood-pumping enterprise then this is your novel. The writing is fluid, the adrenaline-inducing scenes are non-stop, and everything else falls to the backdrop of external fights and villainous monologues. If action is not your preferred genre, then your best left to get your Greek mythology needs from Percy Jackson or the Song of Achilles instead.  

Score: 6/10

[midnightmargheritas]

Some of my witchy resources! I also use a lot of online sources. Always cross-reference your information, especially regarding plants and herbs.

The Encyclopaedia of Mythology - Arthur Cotterell

Lots in this one, shallow information though. Good for reference.

Buckland’s Complete Book of Witchcraft and Buckland’s Book of Spirit Communications - Raymond Buckland

I really liked the Witchcraft one, but it was very heavy on Wicca and some sexist practices; if you sift through it you’ll find good stuff (there is a link to a free copy of this book on this blog under reference). The Spirit Communication book was a little disappointing if I’m honest, but that was because it talks a lot about using trances, which I personally find very difficult.

Llewelyn’s Complete Book of Correspondences - Sandra Kynes

A TikTok recommendation. This book is brilliant. Absolutely full of correspondences and information.

Tarot for Love and Life - Jane Struthers

This book taught me tarot, it’s got a special place in my heart. Bought it on eBay as part of a kit with a rose quartz and cards... the cards were shown to be Raider Waite style... they are not... they don’t match the book either... they’re still my most accurate deck and the deck I have used the longest.

Palmistry - Sasha Fenton

Amazing book. Too much to remember in here, it’s full of info. Spent so many hours reading it cover to cover in secondary school.

The Penguin Book of Witches - Penguin Classics

A lovely book on history, but it is a bit dry.

Magical Creatures - Witches Almanac LTD

I might as well have reread my comic relief copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them from my childhood.

A Treasury of British Folklore - Dee Dee Chainey

This was a gift from a friend, such a sweet book. It’s full of fun myths and legends.

The Hedgerow Apothecary - Christine Iverson

Bought this looking for a book for identifying plants out and about, it has some lovely information on the plants it has (with recipes for salves and pouches and drinks using them), however it has limited information.

The Green Witch and The Witches’ Book of Self Care - Arin Murphy Hiscock

Wanted these for so long, I was so excited when I found them reduced in the Works during a time I was questioning my craft. Some good beginner friendly information inside. Still working through the self care one. Includes information and spells.

Runes for Beginners - Lisa Chamberlain

Haven’t read this yet, wanted to learn more about reading runes. My runes are mean.

Witchery - Juliet Diaz

Another TikTok recommendation. Lovely book, includes spells. I had hoped it had included more advanced stuff. For a beginner, it’s great. Includes information and spells.

The Witches Way - Robbins and Greenaway

0/10. Shallow and baseline information with a heavy focus on Wicca being the only way to practice. Regret buying.

The Grand Grimoire Or The Red Dragon - Lamba and Overman

Another TikTok recommendation. Worth it. Delves in deeper. Still working my way through.

The Egyptian Book of the Dead

Lovely to have the historical knowledge. Also totally appeals to my archaeology degree. Working my way through.

The Mabinogion

Haven’t started this one, but thoroughly looking forward to reading the myths.

The Art of Divination - Deb Robinson

This came with my witch casket this month. An overview of different divination methods, it’s really sweet.

Tea Cup Tales - McWhorter

This is actually my mum’s book that I borrow. She treated the author in hospital when she was a nurse and the lady insisted on giving her a signed copy. It’s a really great book.

Useless Magic - Florence Welch

An honourable mention. I know it’s not technically a witchcraft book, but who doesn’t hear the raw power in her lyrics?

@the-hermit-witch

[toughguywithbossygirlfriend]

Dark Nights :Death Metal #1

After DC Comics Amazing event “Dark Nights : Metal” centered on Batman, we get a sequel called “Dark Nights : Death Metal” centered on Wonder Woman (with even more Batmen everywhere...).

Written by Scott Snyder and Penciled by Capullo the new event looks even more nuts then the first one and I have to say .. I love it ... one of the first pages presents what is left of the DCU after the fight against the evil all powerful Perpetua and the Dark Universe’s “Batman Who Laughs” ... Obviously our Heroes lost the fight and survive as best they can in what’s left of the DC Multiverse

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

What’s left of their Universe’s Earth is a world looking like a Bat, with a head, a body, and two wings. Is it even useful to add that the main Lands are related to :

-The “Head” of the Bat... the Brain ... Batman (at least the one who laughs)

-The “Body” of the Bat... Themiscyra ... Wonder Woman..

For the first time for as long as I remember a Crisis level Event seems centered around Wonder Woman, and of course Batman. Usually it would have been about Superman and Batman or eventually about the Trinity... but since the start of Rebirth I have the feeling the wheels are turning for Diana, slowly but surely she climbs up to and mabe one day will take over Superman’s position ... and unlike Clark Kent she has the potential and the history to be paired up with the real undisputed King of DC Comics : Batman.

 (Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While the “Batman who laughs” is the King of this World ... Diana exchanged her tiara for a crown and is the “Queen of the Underworld” ... giving us a little taste of the DCAU where her “father” wasn’t Zeus but Hades (Lord of the Underworld) ... She rules over Themyscira and Guards the gate to Tartarus ... Obviously she agreed to that role because the Batman Who Laughs uses others lives as leverage (including her Amazon sisters).. In this first Issue She is summoned by her Evil Master to his Castle-Bat ... One thing is very clear she doesn’t consider any of those numerous “Dark Universes Batmen” as “Batman” ... there is only one she calls “Batman”, her Bruce ... the others are just “monsters”, “demons”,...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Once she arrived at Castle Bat and faces the Batman Who Laughs and his countless Batmen variants (some are really weird but its really a lot of fun)... in the middle of the meeting, she suddenly gets a telepathic message !?!.. from the one and only Batman, her Batman. Of course she is stunned there is no J’onn J’ozz to establish such a Link ... it reminded me of Diana’s statement in DC Comics “Superman : Heroes #1″ when she told Bruce that he can do everything Superman does, some even better then him...

Obviously he can copy the Martian Manhunter as well.

Once the shock is over, Diana’s first reaction is to worry for his safety ... “Just PLEASE tell me you’re far from here.”. Yes ! Diana can panic ! we’ll get proof of that later ;)...The answer he gives her is of course meant to reassure her : “Across the Universe”... Little test, who believes that ? ... Yeah, figured as much XD... Then we learn that he knows that she started to melt down her Invisible jet but he couldn’t detect its magic moving !?!! ... copying Zatanna or Constantine here ? ...

Who needs a Justice League if you have a Batman ! XD... Diana, my Dear, catch that guy then you can start a full Justice League with just the two of you  ;)

Batman and Magic ??  This may seem surprising but in reality it has already been addressed in Liam Sharp’s “The Brave and the Bold : Batman and Wonder Woman” Issue #2. In it you can see Bruce suggesting Alfred they should build something able to detect magic... (second picture below - we’ll talk about the first later)

(Edit from “The Brave and the Bold : Batman and Wonder Woman” Issue #2)

Lets not forget Batman was the one who searched, hired and befriended Madame Xanadu (the Sorceress Nimue from the Arthurian mythology) recently in “Justice League” and already knows a bunch of Magic users that he can gather knowledge from. He knows, if Wondy is involved, most of the time it is about magic and if he cares for her (quite obvious in Justice League Dark(2018) #12)... he’s got to get a better knowledge of Magic.. plus If you wanted to make a longer series of comics based on Wonder Woman and Batman (a sibling to Batman-Superman) you would need the Dark Knight to understand better what he would have to face ... Maybe that’s what DC wants to do in the near future... Superman’s power are useless against Magic, but Intelligence is always accurate no matter if its about Science, Magic or anything else. And Batman’s main power is his genius level IQ... 

But lets return to our comic.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

After mentioning it in “Dark Nights : Metal #5″, the “Batman Who Laughs” can’t help but to tell Diana again that there are Worlds where the “Dianas and the Bruces” are Lovers and Parents, ... Just in case she forgot ...XD ... (considering what Scott Snyder said about the sales of this comics, as well as his previous Event, we may assume that most of the comic readers are now used to the fact that those too can be a committed pair).

The “Batman who laughs” knows Diana really well and understood that she was hiding something from him. No doubt he hunts his alter-ego with the greatest attention ... he knows how dangerous he can be. So he threatens Diana to kill whats left of he parliament of Trees, leaving her with no choice... and threatening Diana is something the real “Batman” obviously can’t allow ... Bruce shoots a non-lethal crossbow bolt on the BMWL, revealing himself, to distract the BMWL from Diana ... it worked.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

"BRUCE... NO.” ... Like I said Diana can panic if it is about Him ... XD

I Wonder if the BMWL threatened Diana on purpose knowing very well this would be enough for his Alter-ego to reveal himself if he was near enough. The “Batman who laughs” explored enough worlds to know how much those two care for each other... Lovers ... Parents ... you get the drift...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While Diana was a rather obedient servant to her “Master” because she knew her sisters lives as well as her friends lives where at stakes, she gives up every care and opposes the evil Batmen to give Bruce the opportunity to flee. Much like in the “Blackest Night : WW”, Diana puts Bruce over everything else, Bruce’s safety trumps the safety of every one that the BMWL keeps as leverage against her ... she has to know there’s gonna be a cost.

But Bruce/Batman doesn’t flee, ... not immediately ... because if he did she would be punished for her action ... instead he stays, awaiting the Horde of Evil Batmen to kill him... something that distracts the “Batman Who Laughs” from Diana enough to forget or excuse what she did. But Bruce is always prepared, and this isn’t different ...  God knows how but he found a Black Lantern Ring and uses it to raise a little army of undead warriors in the mood to rip some evil Batmen into pieces.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

While Diana has been easily “frozen” by the Bat-Mage, and once the Fight between Bruce’s undead soldiers and the evils Batmen is started, Batman knows his Enemy is distracted enough to forget about Diana’s rebellion., .. plus the BMWL would keep her alive just because she is the best way to lure Batman out of his hiding as just proven ... She will be safe, so he leaves.

This Event is fantastic and I can’t wait to see how it unfolds.

I guess Scott Snyder loves the Idea of Bruce as some sort of “God of Death” even if he is mortal. see my previous post :

https://toughguywithbossygirlfriend.tumblr.com/post/190316770026/diana-goddess-of-war-bruce-god-of

A mortal “God of Death” ? It is a concept already explored by Fritz Lieber in his Collection “Sword and Sorcery” about the Heroes “Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser”. Basically if the “God of Death” gets killed (a hard feat) he re-incarnates a little later in another body because without a “God of death” nothing dies.

(Edited from DC Comics Wonder Woman (1942) Issue 202 back in 1972)

Who would have thought that Diana (with Selina) already had an encounter with the Heroes of that World ... so the concept of the “God of Death” being a “mortal” shouldn't be new to her ... ;) ...

In "Death Metal”, Diana is the leading Character and she obviously has not the same goal as Bruce: Diana wants to kill the BMWL and restore a Rich and Infinite Multiverse while Bruce wants to play it small, very small.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Bruce’s behavior seems a bit OOC but we will surely get some explanations later in the event as to why. Diana seems to take over the “Dreamy Positiveness” of Superman while Batman holds his “Pragmatic Strategic” line of thinking.

Of course Diana is fiercely independent, and even if she highly values Bruce’s POV she follows her own ... I guess the “Batman Who Laughs” knew her better than she thought, because he first repeated her Bruce’s plan ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

Then teases her about her own  ... and I am sure everyone reading the comic was ecstatic the moment Diana ripped the BMWL into pieces with her Chainsaw of truth ...

A move, we will learn later, that her own Bruce tried to avoid with reason ... a move the BMWL planed and expected, if not provoked, because it enabled him to ... upgrade to something infinitely more Powerful... Bruce was right ... again...

Even if Diana leads she will still need Bruce if she wants to win because it is true, ... it seems she can’t out plan the BMWL... only her Batman could do that ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

I think these re-incarnation in new Bodies is a way for DC Comics to make Bruce Wayne Immortal while keeping him a weak and mortal human (or not as for the BMWL). This has been explored for quite some time : starting with the “Dyonesium” and the “Final Invention”, Batman Last Knight on Earth, and now the BMWL’s death and return as ... “Final Bruce Wayne” ;)

With this there would be no need to reboot the universes to keep Bruce “Batman” Wayne young ... “every generation will have its Batman” ... If Bruce gets Killed ... you just re-incarnate him in a new younger Body ...

(Edited from DC Comics “Batman : Last Knight on Earth” Issue 1)

Diana is already immortal, Bruce would be as well but “re-incarnation” based, and if needed you just give Superman one more power to his already very long list (lets say “Solar re-rejuvenation” or something) ... For Bruce and Diana this would provide more reason to pair them up ... Without the need for more reboots their usual partners (Steve Trevor, Selina Kyle, ...) will now grow older and pass away... Public persona “Bruce Wayne” being with the Amazon could help cover up his weird immortality as gifts from her Gods... All the kids could grow older and new kids could be added more and more without loosing the 3 Big players.

But that’s speculation and we will have to wait and see what DC Comics is going to do and there are still open questions, but I would enjoy something like that.

(Edited from DC Comics “Dark Nights: Death Metal” Issue 1)

The complementarity of both Heroes is expressed here again : Bruce is the “shield” while Diana is the “Sword”... so basically Bruce is the “defensive” while Diana is the “offensive” ... over writers use the reverse : “Wonder Woman was made to protect the innocent while Batman was made to punish the guilty” .. Wonder Woman is the “defensive” and Batman the “offensive” ... Depending on who writes them they will be one or the other but they are just naturally always the Yin and the Yang to each other.

[snk-oc-guide]

Please review my OC?

Danica Orlov Name meaning: "Danica" is the latin word for Danish, but it is also the personification of the morning star in slavic mythology. "Orlov" means "son on Oryol" in Russian, a nickname meaning eagle. Nickname(s): Red(for her hair color), Dani (by her yearmates)

Species: Human Gender: Female Age: 16 (850) Height: 170cm Weight: 60kg

Relatives:

Radek Orlov (father)

Francine Murphy (mother)

Birthday: June 3rd, 834 Birthplace: Mitras Residence: Wall Rose Status: Alive

Occupation: Soldier Affiliation: Survey Corps Former Affiliation: 104th Training Corps

Former Occupation:

Seamstress Apprentice

Medic Apprentice

Field Medic

Thief

Scullery Maid (Dishwasher)

Graduation Rank: Outside Top Ten

Titan Kills: During Battle of Trost

Solo: 0

In Team: 0

During 57th Expedition:

Solo: 0

In Team: 0

APPEARANCE: Danica is a juvenile female with thick, auburn hair that sweeps down to her shoulders which she wears up in a bun or ponytail and amber colored eyes. Standing at a height of 170cm, she is broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, fairly muscled and not very well-endowed. Her fair skin is heavily freckled, as if someone generously sprinkled breadcrumbs on a plate, and the stress and small numbers of sleeping hours of the past years have painted crows feet and dark circles permanently on her eyes.

As a soldier, Danica wears the standard uniform with the badge of the Survey Corps. When off duty she dresses in a loose, boat-necked green shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black opened vest, black tights and knee-high sturdy boots.

PERSONALITY: Danica is a reserved, mature, pragmatic and intelligent girl whose caring heart and kind nature have hurt her heavily after the fall of Shiganshina.

As a child she was open and expressive, unafraid of taking risks and getting hurt. Surrounded by people she loved and who loved her in return she led an idyllic childhood. Unafraid of work, she was completely in her element when helping around her foster family's bakery or later in her apprenticeship.

From an early age she showed restraint over her anger, not wanting to hurt those around her and preferring to just back down from an argument, although she couldn't always keep a lid on her emotions. For her to get really angry took a good reason or a buildup overtime, but when it happened she would stop caring about the feelings of others and use her words to strike where it hurt most. After reducing others to tears, Danica would feel ashamed and renew her effort to temper herself. Her self-restraint was noted by her foster family who encouraged her to always be levelheaded.

Sensitive and empathetic to those around her, Danica craved a greater understanding of people and the world in general, although she never entertained thoughts of going outside the walls. She was content with her lot in life, with her work and with her family and friends, even if they weren't related by blood. Despite wondering now and then who her real parents were she never gave it much thought as in the end she felt it didn't matter.

After the fall of Shiganshina, Danica retreated into herself, becoming listless and apathetic. It didn't help that the Beckers blamed her for living, while their daughter did not and had ceased all relations with her. That the only person in her life who remained committed soon afterwards suicide when both of them were drafted among the refugees for the culling of '46 made things even worse for Danica. She felt abandoned, lonely and depressed. Her thoughts and dreams gave her no rest, when she wasn't thinking about Adele (the Becker's daughter), she was thinking about Gigi (a seamstress and friend).

The world felt old and decayed, she was constantly tired and weary and only got up every day out of bed because she could not stand the thought of wasting away. It also helped that her new employer in Trost had taken a liking to her and had started her on a crash course in medicine, to increase her chances of coming back. Not wanting to disappoint him or to be useless she persevered. A larger part of her simply didn't want to die.

The horrors of the expedition that came from both Titans and people who had nothing to lose and no restraints anymore, left a lasting mark on Danica. Unable to view humanity with kindness or concern anymore, Danica grew to have problems relating to those around her. The loss of the man who had helped her and later her partner in crime only made her sink further in her depression. Had Hannes and one of his officer not been notified of Elia's body and found her alongside him, Danica might have just remained there until she wasted away. Hannes kindness however rekindled something inside Danica who realized she still wanted to live and that she was tired of being tired, sad, weary, guilty, ashamed, lonely and always having to start again.

Her decision to join the Garrison changes after the Battle of Trost however when she begins piecing the puzzle in front of her and realizes that things are not what they seem. Wanting to learn the reasons behind the war, but more so about the Colossal and Armored Titan who had ruined her life she decides to join the Survey Corps, even if she would come to regret it.

HISTORY: Radek Orlov was a Military Police officer whose affair with Danica's mother, the youngest daughter of a noble non-Eldyian clan affiliated with the ruling government, saw him transferred to the Survey Corps when it was discovered Francine was with child. As for Francine, herself, she was forced to go into hiding until Danica was born then give her up so that the Murphy's wouldn't be affected by scandal and that her engagement to the eldest heir of another noble clan could go through.

(rowan) you say her mother, francine, is from a non-eldian clan. that isn't possible, as all the residents within paradis are eldians. even the members of the ruling government are eldians

Francine's father wasn't completely without mercy however, even if he sent Danica as far away as Shinganshina, he also arranged for his bastard granddaughter to be taken in by a foster family as well as an apprenticeship to a seamstress when she reached her tenth birthday.

Danica grew up with the Beckers, knowing nothing of this, in a cheerful, lively and loud environment. She was best friend's with the Beckers middle daughter, Adele and often time helped around the family's business, the bakery. From an early age she developed a curiosity for herbs, brought on by Beckers varied recipes that included them and when she left their household for Madam Girard's, she was very happy to receive a book on botany from them. This passion slowly turned into gardening which became her hobby, as she would from there on always keep a small pot to grow mint in it (using the leaves alongside baking soda to wash her teeth or to chew to keep her breath fresh).

At Madam Girard's, a local seamstress of some renown inside and outside Shinganshina, Danica would spend most of her days sewing alongside her teacher and the other girls in her employment. Despite the long hours of work, she grew quite close to the other girls, the two she roomed with, Yulya and Gigi, especially. Whenever given free time, she would more often than not find herself in their company or visiting the Beckers. Sometimes Yulya and Gigi would join her at the Beckers and soon Yulya and the Becker's oldest son, Gregor grew close to one another much to Danica's great joy, as she had been the one to introduce them.

(rowan) i think it should be noted that just because danica is apprenticed with the seamstress, it doesn't mean she lives with her. it just means she basically has an internship, and will treat it like a job, except she is only getting paid in knowledge/experience. if this was a farm, i could understand having to live there, otherwise i find it kind of weird.

STORY: On the day the Colossal Titan appeared, Danica and Adele were out together. The frightening sight made them lock hands. When the breach occurred, Danica was blown back by a piece of falling debris. Adele was not so lucky and Danica was left to stare in shock at the disembodied arm she was holding hands with. Her best friend being a mere smear on the floor, Danica was on the verge of going into shock when she was jostled by the panicked surge of the fleeing crowd into dropping the arm and running. To this day she cannot remember how exactly she managed to escape to the boat, but when she came to all she could do was tremble and cry.

Upon arriving in Trost she tried to find anyone she knew and eventually stumbled upon Gigi who was quite a fright, having been witness to a Titan devouring Madam and crushing Yulya underfoot. Eventually Danica managed to reunite with the Beckers who asked about Adele. Claming up, all Danica could find in her power to do was shake her head much to the family's horror. Asked to leave and not come back by a grieving mother and father, Danica went off and she and the Beckers never spoke again. Returning to Gigi's side, the two of them eventually found work, Gigi with a local tailor and Danica with a doctor thanks to her knowledge of sewing and botany.

(rowan) i can understand grief making the beckers react unfairly and out of emotion, but considering they've raised danica since she was a baby and have treated her like she was their own, i'm surprised by their reaction. it makes it seem like they never loved her in the first place. if that's the case, i think their behavior towards her should change a bit, and danica should come off as a bit more neglected. since before it seemed like they loved and cared for her.

When the culling in 846 was called, both Gigi and Danica were drafted from among the refugees. Gigi unable to cope and fearful of a terrible death, hanged herself, much to Danica's horror as she was the one to find her friend.

(rowan) while i think this is an interesting idea, during the culling, only men were selected out of the civilians to take part in it. the women and children were left alone. it doesn't state that specifically, but if you go back to look at the images about the event, you don't see any women or children. just the male civilians and the members of the survey corps.

even if that wasn't the case, however, i don't see why gigi and danica would be selected. the world needs children to grow and take place of the older generation. they also need women to keep the walls populated. so why would two young girls be sent off to die, when the government knows they could be potential future mothers? it makes more sense to weed out the old, since they're going to die anyway.

this is just my take on it though! since nothing is officially stated regarding the people they selected among the civilians, you're free to do as you like.

Dr. Owen, despite his gruff and cantankerous personality, was in his own way of great help to Danica especially concerning the upcoming expedition, emphasizing that her medical knowledge no matter how limited might just be her ticket home. As it so happens he was right and Danica was placed among the soldiers of the Survey Corps, alongside their own medics when the expedition began.

Danica would be among the few civilian survivors who returned from the culling. Changed by the horrible things she had seen and the many wounded she could not save, Danica decided she would never again step a foot outside the safety of the walls and that she would not pursue a career as a doctor. Returning to Dr. Owen to take her few belongings back, she was dismayed to find out from his neighbors that the old man had died, knifed for trying to break up a fight.

Alone and without anything to her name, Danica is forced to sleep on the unsafe streets. In the days to come, unable to find employment and going hungry she begins stealing food to survive. Soon she encounters a young boy, Elia, a thief and pickpocket, who suffers of pneumonia. Like her he is a refugee forced by circumstances into such a life and his sickness makes it even harder to find honest work.

The two of them team up to survive and grow quite close to one another, Elia going as far as to teach Danica parkour so that they can make easier escapes during their heists. This partnership does not last as Elia takes a turn for the worse and dies one night. Once more alone, Danica realizes that nothing in her life has had any stability ever since Shiganshina, that the past year had been nothing but hunger, pain and suffering. Weary and tired of this lifestyle, but not knowing what to do she remains alongside her friend's body until two Garrison officers come upon them.

Elia's body is taken away and one of the men who found her, Hannes takes Danica to a pub for a hot meal, going as far as to secure a job for her there as a washer in the kitchens. The kindness shown to her, leaves Danica in tears and she decides then and there to enroll in the military the coming year and join the Garrison on her graduation.

When the time comes she signs with the 104th Cadet Corps. The intense training as well as her own continued practice of parkour, leave Danica exhausted more often than not at the end of the day. Despite her growing skills, she does not care much about grades as she is still quite set on the Garrison and makes sure to put in enough effort to pass, but not overtake anyone. More concerned to learn how to defend herself, she focuses only on improving herself without putting effort into any exams, not caring about the instructors opinions that she could do much better. This coupled with her own reserved nature, her inability to connect to her peers or relate to their worries, paint Danica as stuck up and someone who thinks she is better than everyone else. When she eventually learns how others perceive her, she is both mortified and distressed. Until that moment she had not realized how much she had changed the past two years and as the situation is something of her own doing and she has no idea how to change, Danica remains on the outside more often than not. Eventually as team building exercises are introduced, her natural abilities as a leader shine through and her relationship with her yearmates becomes friendlier, although she is still seen by most as stuck-up.

(rowan) danica seems like she doesn't care about the people around her, and she is only focused on reaching her goals. i thought she also didn't get close to people, as a way to protect herself, since up until now everyone she was close to either left her or died.

that brings me to wondering why all of a sudden, danica cares how others perceive her. since she never took time to get close to her yearmates, i find it weird that she suddenly cares about what they think of her.

unless, her becoming "mortified and distressed' has more to do with herself, and her realizing how much she has changed. and less to do with her finding out what they think of her.

this is just an observation i made when i read her backstory and etc, so i could be wrong in the assumption. either way, i hope me pointing it out helps in some way.

Graduating outside the top ten, Danica is stationed alongside the other cadets in Trost. Despite having lukewarm relations with most of her yearmates, she is buoyed with happiness, knowing that she would join the Garrison soon. This is remarked by the rest of her teammates: Vera Fermi, Leon Mikaelsson, Theo Durand, Kathrin Beckert and Felix Grey. Assigned to patrol the six of them, get to know one another a bit better but the appearance of the Colossal Titan puts a quick stop to Danica's joy and her first honest attempt in years to make friends. Her reaction isn't missed by the rest of her squad, who despite their shock and horror have an easier time, never having seen titans before and still somewhat optimistic as to their own chances. They manage to get Danica moving to HQ where they receive their orders. Despite her shaking, Danica is aware enough to order Theo Durand to requisition additional gas canisters and blades to carry as the possibility of running out is quite high. She assigns him and Felix Grey to divide the burden among themselves, placing the remaining Vera Fermi, Leon Mikaelsson and Kathrin Beckert as the scouting/vanguard of their squad, with the two logicians and herself as a medic behind.

Surprised but seeing the merit of her idea, they prepare and head to their assigned position only to find that the Titans had advanced. Realizing that the first line of defense had fallen, Danica has an outburst of nerves, cursing everything in sight. Devising a plan to separate and pick them off one by one, using her and the logicians to lure them in while the three assigned to the vanguard take them out works for a while. But as titans fall, her squad mates become overconfident and bite more than they can chew. Vera is caught and Leon and Kathrin jump to her rescue. They are promptly killed by titans and Felix and Theo try to make a break for it, overcome by fear. Their mistake costs them their lives but allows Danica to use their death to make her escape. She doesn't stop until she finds more of the 104th cadets and as they hopelessly watch the advancing enemy, Danica is filled with dread. Unable to stop wondering how much time they have until the Armored Titan appears, Mikasa's sudden arrival and lousy speech emboldens her and she joins the rest of her yearmates in making a break for HQ to resupply. (Things go more or less as they did in canon at HQ)

The Rogue Titan's leaves Danica without words, more so after Eren emergence.

Keeping a close eye for the appearance of the Armored Titan as they flee for the safety of Wall Rose, Danica makes a few realizations:

The Armored Titan was nowhere in sight.

The Colossal had appeared as suddenly as it did in Shiganshina and just as suddenly dissipated, much like the Armored.

Eren's titan form was already discomposing when he emerged.

(rowan) i thought danica didn't remember much after the fall of shinganshina? i thought she just remembered her friend dying, and then somehow making it to one of the boats and arriving at trost?

that being said, i find it weird just remembers something like the armored titan appearing, nonetheless disappearing. especially considering the chaos that was taking place. it'd be hard to keep track of something like that.

Although her mind is in a jumble and she hasn't yet come across what exactly is wrong with this picture, she asks Mikasa and Armin to allow her to stand with them when defending Eren. Despite their skepticism about her intentions and Mikasa's threat that she would die if she were to make a move for Eren, she is allowed to defend him to the panicked Garrison. Once Commander Pixis arrives on the scene and agrees to Armin's plan, the three ask Danica why exactly she stayed with them. The only thing Danica thinks to say is that "The Armored Titan hasn't appeared." This confuses them, until Armin straightens all of a sudden as of just now noticing the same thing. Both Armin and Danica come to realize that the Armored Titan might not appear at all, that those two titans had already found what they wanted.

(rowan) very confused as to why danica would want to put her life on the line for people she doesn't know. i'm surprised she even knew their names lol but it just seems very random for her to want to suddenly stand in defense of eren. what is she gaining? what is the point to it?

also, her assumptions revolving around the titans are weird. at this point, no one knows anything about the titans other than the fact they are out to end humanity without rhyme or reason. thinking of the armored titan and colossal titan as things with "motives" or "reasons" is not fitting for the current timeline, where they don't know anything. so her thinking that the two titans "have already found what they wanted" is weird, as titan's don't have thoughts. and as far as they know, the colossal and armored are just that: titans.

another thing i don't think fits, is danica putting the armored and colossal titans together as a pair. as in, if one appears, then the other one isn't far behind. titans don't work in teams or anything, so to expect that from them doesn't add up. even if they had showed together during the fall of shiganshina, that was just one instance. there isn't much of a pattern to turn it into something predicable.

Danica is left frothing at the mouth, her mind working overdrive as she suspects the Colossal and Armored might both be like Eren, shifters, and that the people who died five years ago were merely collateral, instead of their main objective.

(rowan) again, this is something no one knows about yet. in the current state the word "titan shifters" hasn't even been discovered. they all think eren is an actual titan who has adapted to fit in with the humans to kill them all. very far fetched, but again, they don't know much about titans except that they kill humans. eren having been a titan is enough to confuse and scare them.

the fact that the intelligent characters such as armin, hange, and erwin, took a bit to discover there were others like eren says enough about how unbelievable the theory is. according to these people, there is no world outside the walls. how could they even imagine something like titan shifters existing?

so, unfortunately, i don't think it'd be fitting to have your character draw that conclusion. no matter how smart they are, i doubt they're smarter than the aforementioned characters. if anything, danica needs more evidence before jumping to such a conclusion.

Burning with anger, Danica is quick to interrogate Eren about his transformation and how it came about to see if Armin's plan had a chance. As he tells what he remembers, Danica realizes that Eren's intent, his desire to kill the titans might have been a trigger and advises him to think only "I will pick the boulder and seal the breach" and only that. She is quick to point out that if he loses control of this power, even if he's never before realized he had it, things could take a turn for the worse not only for himself but Mikasa and Armin too. Eren agrees readily, but can't stop asking why she is so fired up. Danica tells them that she too comes from Shiganshina and that she too has lost everyone, to the trio's surprise as Danica has never even hinted at her past before. With a better understanding of one another, they part ways. The mission is a success from the start as Eren takes Danica's words to heart as well as minimal loss of life on the part of Eren's protectors. Not long after Eren and the rest of his team's triumphant return, the Survey Corps arrive. As the battle comes to a close and the Garrison and Survey Corps join forces in cleaning the town of Titans, Danica becomes aware that her suspicions were right and that there's more going on than what can be seen at first glance. Although she cannot point to why exactly the two titans waited so long to mount another attack, especially as the Armored could have just made a run for Wall Rose and no one would have been able to stop him, Danica realizes that she wants answers. Knowing that if she joins the Garisson she might not ever find out why they attacked, why so many had to die (why did she have to suffer so much), she tears up and laughs bitterly knowing that her only option is the Survey Corps if she plans to go ahead with finding answers. Even as she shakes with fear, a much bigger part of her burns for knowledge.

(The rest would be spoilers when I get to writing as it steadily turns AU, since Danica manages to save some people (Mike [by agreeing to tell Zeke everything about the VME in exchange for their lives], Gelger, Nanaba [by being there on orders to inform them about the Beast Titan, and being able to help, also by realizing that Henning and Lynne's blades and canisters might still be of use after Gelger gets injured and she and Nanaba run out]) and even befriend them. Her past also comes under scrutiny in the Uprising Arc and that is when she learns about her parents.)

(rowan) i highly doubt zeke will spare mike if danica tells him about the 3dmg. if anything, i could see him killing them both/leaving them for dead right after getting the information. the only way to spare mike, is to not let zeke get a hold of him at all lol

as for her past, i have to ask, will it really change anything? if she discovers her birthright, what will it mean to her? you said her family is a noble one, but why are they so important? what is it exactly that they do? i feel like, to have such a background, it will have to mean and result in something important. otherwise, it would have just been better to make her a random orphan in shiganshina, rather than a bastard noble child.

STATS Combat: 7/10 Initiative: 7/10 Wits: 9/10 Teamwork: 7/10 Agility: 10/10

(rowan) i think some of the stats are bit high considering the information i was given. i would make initiative, a six, considering so far i've seen her having to receive a "push" before she does anything.

teamwork, is also a little high, considering her standoffish attitude. i would make it a six.

A/N: I'm sorry for giving you more work, but I've had this idea stuck inside my head for a while now and I really need some advice if the OC is worth actually writing in the story. I've tried to give her constant character development and a believable reason for joining the Survey Corps and I don't know how much of my ideas come across since English isn't my first language and there might be some spelling mistakes. I've also added the characters I would like to save and possible explanations about how she goes about them, but I'm a bit unsure if Mike's is even possible, because while Zeke does seem practical, he's also kinda ruthless.

(rowan) no problem at all! thank you for submitting this to us, and i hope i was at least a little bit of help.

as always, i like to remind everyone that you don't have to listen to my critiques, but they are honest thoughts and observations i made. and i also say them with your best interests in mind! :)

[365days365movies]

March 4, 2021: Spirited Away (2001) (Part One)

Having not seen this already is one of my great shames.

Yeah, I should’ve seen this by now, right? I mean, this is the only foreign language and 2D-animated film to win the Oscar for Best Animated Film, considered by most to be the greatest animated movie of all time, and it was the highest grossing film in Japanese box office history, until something else came along this year.

I should also watch Demon Slayer at some point, huh? Well, anyway, yeah, this movie has been on my list for years, but I’d never gotten around to it...until today! Now that I’ve watched Kiki’s, finally, I can get to the almost universally considered Miyazaki’s best. Will I like it as much, though? Well, we’ll see, huh?

And I probably should have some big preamble here, right? I mean, most of my other recaps start with a few paragraphs worth of content, dotted with pictures in order to break up the text monotony; that’s my typical formula. But, uh...I dunno. I got nothin’. Mostly because I don’t know anything about this movie going in.

So, yeah, fuckit. Let’s just get started here, I’m pumped! Been pumped for years. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Chihiro (Daveigh Chase) and her parents have just moved from their home to a new pace, and Chihiro’s not super happy about it. I get it, Chihiro, we moved a lot as a kid. On the way there, they get lost, and end up entering a forest with shrines at the entrance. Chihiro’s dad is a...reckless-as-FUCK driver.

They finally end up at a building with an open doorway. Chihiro’s a bit creeped out by the whole thing, especially as there are shrines all over the place that make her uncomfortable. Chihiro’s folks go through the archway and enter an old decrepit train station.

They exit through another door, and see a vast green field, dotted with shrines and broken down buildings. Chihiro’s father believes that it’s an abandoned theme park, which seems...wrong. Chihiro stays behind for a second and hears the building moaning. Chihiro’s parents continue to make their way through the park, as they smell food, and find themselves hungry. 

But the park is still completely abandoned, with not one person in sight. And yet, somebody’s making food, and it’s fresh. So, they do what anybody in their position would do: they eat the SHIT out of it. Chihiro doesn’t, but her parents go ham on it. Seriously, they pig out on this shit. Frustrated, Chihiro walks away and continues to explore the park.

A giant ornamented pagoda-style bathhouse stands tall above the rest, seemingly new and running. This is where she encounters both the train and a small boy, around her age. He warns her to leave, and get back across the river near the entrance.

Chihiro runs away, and goes to get her parents, who are still pigging out.

Ah. Well. Chihiro doesn’t realize that these pigs are her parents, and runs away in fear. She stops by a full river, and sees a vast glittering city in the distance. Meanwhile, spirits gather in the formerly decrepit park. Chihiro, believing this to be a dream, tries to wake herself up. In her chanting, she ends up becoming somewhat invisible.

Meanwhile, a riverboat comes closer, carrying spirits whose bodies materialize as the touch the shore and enter the park. Chihiro runs away, scared and disappearing. Soon, the boy from before catches up to her. This is Haku (Jason Marsden), and he brings Chihiro food from this world, which she must eat or risk disappearing. Very mythological, I like it.

By this point, Chihiro has realized that the pigs were her parents, and asks Haku if she can see them. He says that he will eventually, but they must run away quickly, as a mysterious bird with the face of an old woman is hovering above, potentially looking for Chihiro.

Haku takes Chihiro to the bathhouse, and instructs her not to breathe, as the creatures around them will see her is she even slightly breathes. They cross the bridge, and Chihiro is almost spotted. Haku takes her into hiding, as the word of a human’s presence breaks out. Haku instructs her to make her way to the boiler room to find Kamaji, the Boiler Man, and insist on getting a job or risk being turned into an animal by the owner of the bathhouse, Yubaba.

Haku wishes her good luck by name, which she questions. He says that he’s known her since she was very small. My girlfriend begins laughing maniacally, which probably means nothing. Chihiro, still quite afraid, makes her way to the boiler room.

There, we meet Kamaji (David Ogden Stiers), a multi-armed man that runs the boiler for the bathhouse, and commands dozens of spider-like soot spirits to do his bidding. This dude is a cross between Eggman and Doctor Octopus, and I love him. The soot ball spirits, too, while we’re at it. I recognize these guys from My Neighbor Totoro! Or their relatives, anyway. They’re cute, no matter what.

Chihiro saves one from being crushed, and is told to “finish what she’s started”. She carries the rock, which is seemingly super-fucking-heavy, and throws it into the boiler. Once she does this, all of the soot balls begin dropping the rocks onto themselves to get Chihiro to do it for them. I love them.

Kamaji tries to stop Chihiro from working, which is when his granddaughter, Lin (Susan Egan), shows up with lunch for Kamaji and the soot balls, and sees Chihiro. She notes that his is big trouble, but Kamaji tells her to take Chihiro to the owner, Yubaba, to properly inquire for a job with his recommendation. Reluctantly, she takes her to the top floor of the bathhouse via elevator.

We see the various spirits in the bathhouse, which is a great time to note the fact that this movie looks fucking FANTASTIC, and the art direction already gets a 10/10 from me, without any argument. This would be even better if I were fully beefed-up on my knowledge of the various Japanese spirits. 

On the way up, a Radish Spirit (Jack Angel) follows them to another elevator, and Chihiro ends up stuck with him in an elevator going up. He helps her get to the top floor, where Yubaba’s quarters are. And it’s here that we finally meet Yubaba (Suzanne Pleshette), a powerful spirit in her own right.

Yubaba is definitely not warmed to the presence of a human here, as humans have long abused the world that the spirits reside in. This includes her parents, who ate the food of the spirits like, well...pigs. She zips Chihiro’s mouth shut as she rants, but once she unzips it again, she repeatedly asks her for a job.

Yubaba isn’t pleased with this, and lemme say, she’s fucking TERRIFYING. As she goes after Chihiro more directly, the assault is interrupted by Yubaba’s baby waking up, and Yubaba hastily accepts her offer to work for her. Chihiro signs her name away, and Yubaba quite literally takes it, giving her the name “Sen” in exchange.

She summons Haku, who takes her away and pretends not to know her. He also tells her not to talk to him as they go down to find her a job. Nobody’s willing to work with a human, and Haku eventually assigns her to work as Lin’s assistant. Chihiro doesn’t feel very good, and that’s not helped by the fact that Haku was rather mean to her in the elevator.

The morning comes, and the spirits each retire to their domains, with Yubaba using her cloak to turn into a bird-like creature and fly away. Which I totally love, by the way. Chihiro, however, has not slept, and has in fact been crying and shaking with fear the entire night. Haku finds her like this, and tells her to meet him at the bridge, where he’ll take her to her parents.

With a new pink outfit in tow (and shoes protected by the soot spirits), she takes off to the bridge to meet Haku. But also lingering on the bridge is a mysterious spirit whom I already know as No-Face (Bob Bergen). He’s a pretty recognizable character from the film. When she crosses the bridge, No-Face disappears, and Haku is waiting on the other side.

Haku takes her to the pigsty, where her parents are. They no longer remember their identity as humans, and astonishingly, Chihiro refers to herself as “Sen,” the name that Yubaba gave her. Yeah, she doesn’t remember her own name, until Haku gives her back her old clothes to hide. In them is a goodbye card from one of her friends, with her name written in it. Yubaba controls people by taking their names, which is some old-school mythology shit, boy!

Chihiro thanks him, and he gives her food to help her regain her strength. This causes her to sob while stuffing rice into her face, which the girlfriend has referred to as a big mood. Chihiro goes back, and sees that Haku (not his real name, as Yubaba has taken it) is flying away, as a white dragon.

From there, she goes to work cleaning the bathhouse with Lin and the other workers in her department. In the process, she also lets No-Face into the building. He later repays the favor by helping her get a needed wash token from the human-hating foreman. Yubaba, meanwhile, senses that something is coming, slinking about in the rain. She refers to it as useless scum, and it is indeed a big pile of scum, and an intruder to the bathhouse.

The other attendants of the bathhouse seem to think that it’s a stink spirit, although Yubaba isn’t sure. She commands Chihiro to attend to it, and it is...gross as SHIT. It apparently smells EXTREMELY bad, and this entire sequence is...viscerally gross. Dude is DISGUSTING.

However, through all of that shit (literally), Chihiro manages not only to attend to the spirit, but also finds some kind of thorn in his side Yubaba then realizes that something is wrong, and gets everyone else to help. They tie a rope to the object, and they pull it out together, with Chihiro at the head.

They pull it out, only to reveal a MASSIVE pile of human garbage. Once it’s all out, the spirit reveals itself to be not a stink spirit, but a polluted River Spirit (Jim Ward), who thanks Chihiro for her assistance. He pays the place a HELL of a lot of money, and Yubaba congratulates Chihiro directly for her good work.

THAT is a good place to pause! See you in Round Two!

[aaluminiumas]

Merry Christmas Chopper

Time flows differently at sea, especially on the Grand Line: the weather in this part of the world never followed the ordinary calendar people had outside the ocean, so a blizzard in the middle of the summer wouldn’t surprise anyone. The climate depended on the island itself, and the inhabitants stuck to their specific routine maintained throughout the years: the holidays of the Fish-Men didn’t coincide with those of the Minks thus a lucky traveler may get a chance to become acquainted with rituals and traditions of all races.

The Straw Hat Pirates had already seen a lot. That’s why Nami yearning for Christmas she last celebrated a couple of years ago, made sure that the ship steered for another Winter Island and then ordered to throw a real party. Initially, only two latched on the idea: Sanji who agreed to do anything offered by Nami, and Robin, as usual peacefully calm, whose multiple hands immediately embarked to festoon Sunny. Luffy seemed to worried about one thing only – whether they were going to have meat; Zoro followed his Captain’s suit and asked about drinks – again, following Luffy’s suit, he got punched in the head and crawled away with gloomy grumbling. As a result of the powerful blow, the swordsman deigned to hang a garland over his mat on the deck. Sanji waspishly advised not to remove it in the future in order to define the borders of the improvised botanical garden and what is the vantage point to feast the eyes upon the ugliest plant.

While Brook, Usopp and Franky were trying to part the fighters to the rippling laughter of their Captain, Chopper took advantage of the common turmoil and ran over to Nami. He had first-hand knowledge of Christmas: as resident of a Winter Island, he often celebrated the holiday. Even when other reindeer atrociously lambasted him, he kept believing in miracles and never doubted Santa and his presents. However, the presents weren’t the main concern: absolutely unspoiled, he was waiting for some other guest – the red-nosed reindeer, Rudolph, who was claimed to have been mocked himself. Since childhood he swore he would stay up till morning to see Santa and his famous sleigh; he was sure he would talk to Rudolph in the animal language asking how he managed to take the lead, to turn his flaw into an assert and to overcome the sneers. Unfortunately, Chopper kept falling asleep – and woke up with bitter frustration written upon the snout. Later in the morning he disappeared in his lab and crammed another book borrowed from shrewd Kureha who unexpectedly failed to grasp what ate him away every winter so desperately.

Nami wasn’t paying attention to the skirmish between the cook and the swordsman: she continued decorating her tangerine trees and enlaced the boughs with colored garlands even though they hadn’t yet reach the island.

“Nami,” Chopped called in a low voice awkwardly tapping his hooves against each other and snuffling, “Is… Santa coming to us?”

Puzzled by the question, the navigator nodded.

“Of course, Chopper. Santa comes to all good kids… and adults. To the bad ones too,” she narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and slowly turned her head in the direction of the bickering friends. “But there is not enough coal for those in the whole world. It’s easier to send them to a mine.”

“Are there deer, too?” he went on, still meek and at the same time more enthusiastic. “Or is he traveling by ship? He can’t get here by his sleigh, right?..”

Nami looked at him, clearly perplexed: she wasn’t ready for such questions; practically deprived of childhood herself, she never had illusions as to Santa’s personality but the girl didn’t venture to shatter her friend’s faith in this mythological figure. To her Christmas was a day when she could finally express her gratitude and affection towards all the crew members (and to get a nice present for her outstanding navigation skills) but for Chopper it was an evening of miracles and didn’t want to wreck it all.

“Doctor-san,” Robin suddenly came to rescue with her low voice pierced with confidence, “his sleigh runs across the sky, not by the sea. Why would he need a ship if it is safer to travel above multiple dangers of the Grand Line?”

The archeologist’s words mollified the reindeer: his large woeful eyes beamed in a heartbeat. If Nami was able to fib a little, Robin would rather remain silent or elude.

“Don’t you happen to know,” Chopper hesitated for another moment rattling his hooves again, “when is he coming? I would… I would love to just have a peep… at Rudolph. I heard that he was… different from others. Just like me. But I have a blue nose…”

Even if Robin was taken aback, she didn’t reveal her astonishment in the slightest: her face remained serene and tranquil. With a small apologetic smile upon the lips, the woman shook her head and adorned his tiny antlers with a garland interwoven with a sparkling tinsel.

“Unfortunately, Doctor-san, I cannot give you a proper answer to that. The number of good kids changes from year to year, and he has to pay a visit to them all. But I am certain this time he will stay a little longer: after all, you have done so many good things that you deserve a special present.”

Encouraged by the praise, Chopper was about to start dancing: the reindeer still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was genuinely loved and cherished even though aloof and unsociable Law tended to commend him every once in a while. And if Nami expressed her emotions in quite a ribald way, Robin tried to find the right approach to everyone not resorting to punches and manipulations – even a rejection didn’t sound adamant though her voice was always firm.

“Then,” the doctor scratched his blue nose, “If you see him… can you please wake me up? I promise not to fall asleep but,” here he got embarrassed completely, “Every year I just pass out and… I would love to…”

“Of course Doctor-san,” Robin interrupted him soflty, “We’ll be on guard.”

“Don’t worry Chopper,” Nami bolstered her friend, “A mouse won’t slip by Zoro, let alone an old man with a flock of deer. We’ll take care of it!”

As soon as their inspired friend rushed to his little laboratory equipped with all the necessary things for his endless experiments, Nami crossed her arms in the chest staring at Robin with a suspicious grimace on the visage.

“I certainly love your idea,” she muttered in a low voice, “But what is that you suggest us doing? We cannot steal a deer, put a red nose on it and introduce it as Rudolph. I couldn’t even think that he’s so…”

“Flustered? Excited? This is quite obvious,” the woman adjusted a glossy purple ball on the tangerine branch so its ribbon didn’t cover the image. “He doesn’t really have someone… to share his experience with. Whether we want it or not, we… do not fully understand him.”

“So what are we supposed to do? To turn ourselves into deer?” said Nami sarcastically. “Can’t even imagine myself… this way. I’m no doe. What kind of doe… would I be?..”

“The most beautiful doe in the world, Nami-swan! You will be the most charming female deer in th–”

Robin chuckled: Sanji didn’t manage to accomplish his laudatory ode as he got maimed which nonetheless failed to cool him down.

“You’re just in time, Sanji-kun,” the woman smiled thus provoking another bout of jitter. “Do you know the legend about Rudolph the Deer?”

Soon enough the whole crew began to arrange the Christmas party for Chopper. Nami, as usual, was in charge: she succeeded to draw attention to the discussion by heavy blows and threatening stares while Robin put forward various proposals that seemed suitable. Luffy only comprehended that Chopper ‘had some wrong Christmas’ and offered to pile the deer with presents but the idea implying a thousand of meat dishes didn’t sit well with the rest of the crew. Zoro supported his Captain on the topic of presents but added on his own behalf: let the swirlybrow make a present to them all by locking himself up in the kitchen throughout the celebration. Sanji pledged to cut the swordsman in pieces and feed seagulls, deprecated. Brook proposed to compose a song – and Robin’s hands writing down more or less reasonable suggestions, started jotting something in her notebook.

“Why not write him a letter?” exclaimed Usopp out of the blue. “It won’t replace Rudolph of course but… at least we will show we care about him.”

“And then he’ll eventually understand that Marimo is a good-for-nothing sentinel who hasn’t heard the thud of the hooves,” Sanji noticed melancholically, lighting another cigarette. “What a remarkably useless plant. Shall we toss it overboard?”

“I don’t need my swords to beat the shit out of you,” hissed Zoro flaring up. “Damn you, ero-cook!..”

It didn’t take much time to put things in apple pie order and reassert the breached discipline: Nami scattered the two in different directions, and both the swordsman and the cook rubbed their heads and squabbled in hushed voices not to instigate the navigator who seemed to like Usopp’s offer.

The preparations lasted for the whole day: Robin sneaked into the farthest corner of the deck to write the letter; Sanji wearing a funny apron garnished the desserts with cotton candy. As for Zoro, he had risked to get a carver knife between the eyes and now imitated some frenzied activity – according to the cook, it was ‘frenzied enough to outshine the quickest algae drifting with the stream’. Brook, laughing, was playing a song by ear while Usopp was wrapping the presents. Nami kept things tidy: she prevented Luffy from pushing his nose into every single box he saw. Franky, though, took care of it himself: he had cut out several wooden boxes for various trinkets. Now he improved his invention and fit locks into them – exclusively by the navigator’s request so eager to keep the spirit of Christmas. Albeit none of the tasks looked hard to finish, they appeared to be time-consuming, so none of the pirated noticed when and how the warm climate gave way to pleasant frost and slight snowfall.

Chopper went out to the deck only in the evening and started perusing snowflakes, so brittle and peculiar that they seemed to be knitted. They sank into his auburn fur and didn’t melt at all as if they morphed into a scintillating garland. Back at home they looked less fragile and yet bigger; accustomed to blizzards and cold, he learnt to ignore them and now, after all those visits to hot countries, a simply snowstorms morphed into a hibernal miracle.

He remembered the first time he saw himself in the reflection of the frozen river. He remembered his resentment for himself, that blue nose, and roared smashing whatever he could smash. He remembered how he nuzzled into white and fluffy snow hoping that the color of the nose would alter, and he, Chopper, would be just like others.

He also recollected the frosty redolence Hululuk’s fur coat exuded; he recalled Kureha’s perfume mingled with the fragrance of the wind. Her hands were always tender and smelled ice while Hululuk reminded him of the first snowflakes’ scent. It dawned upon him how much he actually could reminisce: that cheerful laughter, ridiculous stories the Doctor used to tell, and those midnight talks – they spoke about everything in the world. It was almost eternity ago when Chopper lost his best friend – and they still had so much to discuss. Hiluluk always supported him, and, probably in his own manner, taught the little reindeer to keep his head up.

“Merry Christmas,” a familiar gentle voice came; Chopper sharply turned in the direction of the sound and instantly noticed a figure he knew so well: it was a tad shorter than he remembered and moved angularly but the kind smile and warm eyes made everything clear. It was exactly the person who encouraged Chopper to become a doctor.

“Doctor Hiluluk!” the reindeer darted towards the man feeling he was barely able to squelch the tears that were about gush out from the eyes. “Doctor Hiluluk!.. How did you..? You are...”

The intruder laughed in a low tone and embraced his friend caringly.

“You’ve become so big and strong,” the doctor patted Chopper by the shoulder, “Are you happy with them?.. I’ve heard a lot about you, Chopper. I am exceedingly proud of you. You have become a talented physician. You are definitely second to none.”

The little reindeer didn’t release his friend – and almost ignored the praise. Millions of questions were swarming in his head but he didn’t hurry to ask them. Hiluluk didn’t insist on a decent conversation: he kept smiling looking at the reindeer cursing himself for the cruelty he had shown in the past. How could throw him out sugarcoating his atrocity and calling it care? Why didn’t he tell the truth letting Chopper make his own decision whether to stick around or to deal with his own life? Yes, that notorious quack felt ashamed and couldn’t disappoint his friend, but at the moment, after all those years, he finally realized that it may have been the only blunder he regretted so much. If he could turn back time, nothing of it would have happened.

“They do love you,” the guest drawled squatting before Chopper. “And protect you too. I am glad to know that you have found a family… despite everything. I am so sorry that I cannot be near.”

“But you are here!” the reindeer exclaimed blinking his watery eyes. “I’ll introduce you to my nakamas. They’ll like, I assure you! Sanji will cook the pies you are so fond of, Brook will sing for you, you’ll talk to Robin and–”

With a sad smile on the lips Hiluluk shook his head.

“Alas, it won’t do.” He sighed heavily. “You have a different life now… But,” he straightened up, “I have a little surprise for you, Chopper. I know who you are waiting for. Unfortunately, he cannot…”

Robin’s soft hand touched the glossy fur. Flummoxed, Nami noticed that Chopper finally awoke and placed a small box near the adoze reindeer: it was different from those that Franky had created. This one had incised ornaments and a carving of a certain mushroom on the lid. Still sleepy, Chopper kept staring at the present: did someone do that specifically for him?

“Open it, Doctor-san. This undoubtedly belongs to you.”

Robin’s honeyed mellow voice seemed to have pushed him, and the little hooves lifted the lid. Inside, there was a handful of pink powder – the same powder his friend had been working on, – and a letter with a stamp of a deer hoof. The whole crew gathered around: Usopp failed to wake him up, and panicked alarming the rest – even Zoro, normally apathetic and detached, scowled and rushed to rescue.

The whole ship was emblazoned and festooned. Nami had cleared the place underneath her tangerines, and now neatly wrapped presents were peacefully lying there revealing the cards written in Usopp’s and Franky’s untidy yet diligent hands. Sanji was serving cocoa with little cloud of marshmallow. Exclusively for Chopper he had created rosy petals of cotton candy. Robin, normally calm, adjusted bows, knots and decorations striving to make everything look like a picture. The evergreen lawn where the crew used to sprawl and relax, turned white: no one even tried to get rid of the glistening snow which reflected all Sunny’s embers and glimmers.

“Merry Christmas, Chopper,” Nami flashed him a broad smile.

“Merry Christmas!” shouted both Zoro and Sanji and looked daggers at each other.

“Su-u-u-u-u-u-per-r-r-r-r Christmas!” Franky struck a pose raising both his arms in the air.

“Mefwy Fuwissmas!” pronounced Luffy proudly munching on the ham he’d just stolen from the kitchen. A sound of Sanji’s powerful kick muffled another sentence he was about to utter.

“We love you, Chopper!” candidly declared Usopp.

“Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!.. Merry Christmas, Chopper-san. Thank you for suturing our wounds! Though… yo-ho-ho… I don’t have skin to be sutured! Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

The little reindeer sniveled. Probably he should let his past go – to let it get dispersed in a blur of pink petals.