#and THIS is why i HATE HATE HATE the idea that ancient people were just 'dumb' and 'uneducated'

[paradoxcase]

So you know how there are all these ancient Roman sources about how the Carthaginians sacrificed babies? And how, for a long time, people believed that this had to be some kind of extreme racist slander on the part of the Romans because they hated Carthage? Well, it turns out that we have actually uncovered graveyards full of babies and small children in that part of the world that seem to be tied to areas used for ritual sacrifice, so, it might be true, actually. Also, the way the Romans wrote about this was not the way you would think someone would write about people they hated sacrificing babies. They weren't saying "My god, this is heinous and evil! This is why Carthage must be destroyed!" They were saying stuff like "Well, this is kind of strange. It doesn't seem very practical. I don't get it." And this was because they were so used to the idea of babies dying that some extra babies being killed didn't seem that bad. If 48% of your babies die no matter how well you care for them, you can't afford to get as attached to them as we get to our babies, you would be in a constant state of unending grief. You would kind of have to dehumanize babies a bit just in order to survive and live your life. The fact that we can fully humanize babies, and name them and buy them things before they are even born, and can afford to fully love them before they get to some minimum age that means they're probably likely to survive to adulthood is all a privilege of our super low infant mortality rate.

Remember, history was awful. Never trust the romantics.

[uncanny-tranny]

If I'm honest, the whole "love in every stitch" saying for fiber artists does not apply to me, like. I'm trying to get this fucking hook into stubborn yarn and I'll be stabbing it like it owed me money. Is that love because I hope not 😭💀

[midnight-in-town]

My take on Sir Crocodile's past, including the possibility of the CrocoParent theory

(Because I can't help thinking about it, in the midst of Kuma and Bonney's heart-wrenching flashback...)

Crocodile is one of the few Warlords we still hardly know anything about, but we're bound to know about his past at some point (same for Mihawk with whom he's currently working, as well as Moria who stole like half (?) of the Rocks Pirates' corpses), starting with the panel that launched all the theories, back in Impel Down :

Thanks to Kuma's flashback, we know Ivankov used to be a slave to the Celestial Dragons up until God's Valley. As for what happened at God's Valley, we don't know the full story yet but what we know is that...

...the Rocks Pirates were defeated and disbanded by the alliance between Garp and Roger. Some (?) of them were cloned by MADS (like Stussy for a still unknown reason) and Roger then became the next biggest threat of piracy.

Their leader's name was Xebec and other people have already explained that it possibly is related to Sebek/Sobek, an ancient Egyptian deity represented either in its form or as a human with a crocodile head. And, as we all know thanks to the Alabasta arc, Sir Crocodile is strongly associated with Sobek/Sebek too.

From there, it's not a stretch to imagine that Sir Crocodile is Rocks D. Xebec's child and was also present on God's Valley, which is how Crocodile and Ivankov possibly first "met". Ivankov witnessed Rocks' defeat as well as his child's survival...

...probably thanks to Whitebeard. Because, considering how the government tracked Ace and Luffy because of their dads, it's clear that any child of Xebec would be hunted by the government just as much and, like he did for Ace, Whitebeard probably saved and offered shelter to Xebec's kid for a while.

Whitebeard saving Croc as a child on God's Valley could be the reason why Croc seemingly hated Whitebeard so much : Whitebeard saving him instead of avenging Rocks, his captain, on God's Valley and then later probably defeated Crocodile, when Croc decided to become a pirate and went after the One Piece, could explain the animosity that we saw during Marineford.

Anyway, because of God's Valley, this could be the secret Iva knows about Croc: he's the surviving child of Rocks D. Xebec, thanks to Whitebeard.

Whitebeard choosing to save him rather than his Captain and then later defeating him could also explain why Croc has strong issues when it comes to trusting others :

Another hint that Croc is related to Rocks is Blackbeard. A popular theory/understanding in the fandom is that, while Luffy inherited Roger's Will, Blackbeard inherited Rocks' (leading to the idea that Rocks vs Garp & Roger will be paralleled with Blackbeard vs Luffy & Koby). This is especially interesting, considering that Blackbeard replaced Croc as a Warlord after he was defeated and sent to Impel Down, which is when they met :

Crocodile also has a lot of "mannerisms" hinting he's a D. He's strongly interested in the Void Century, poneglyphs and the ancient weapons.

Additionally, upon learning during Marineford about Ace's and Luffy's being hunted by the Government because of their fathers, he intervened to protect them...

These acts, outside of the CrocoParent theory (see below), can be explained by Croc's own experience of being hunted because of who his father was, but also by what Ivankov said to Law, who's also a D :

To conclude, I'm a strong advocate that Sir Crocodile is actually Rocks D. Crocodile and he obviously couldn't keep his father's name, in order to avoid being hunted during his entire life by the Government.

But what about the CrocoParent theory?

Well, as much as I'm an immense and dedicated fan of this theory (full explanation here), a part of me doesn't trust Oda to be brave enough to go down that road, even if I'm also eagerly waiting for him to. :D

Whether Croc was afab or amab though, the theory that he's Rocks' kid still applies. The only difference is that, if Croc was afab, then on top of knowing about who his father was, Iva also helped Croc with transitioning, thanks to their devil fruit.

Of course, it's probably through meeting Iva that Croc then came to meet some members of the Revolutionary Army, like Dragon. He gave birth to Luffy, transitioned afterwards with Iva's help and his actions at Marineford (protecting both Ace and Luffy) are not only because he used to be hunted as Rocks' kid, but also because he just learnt that Luffy is Dragon's son and thus his own child. :))

After all, to quote Dragon in the latest chapter of Kuma's flashback...

... "a child is their parents' weak spot" seems to ring to the same bell as Croc's "if you want to protect something, do it right" (like giving up on raising Luffy and leaving him in a remote village of East Blue, to avoid him being hunted by the World Government).

Anyway, long post, sorry about it! I hope we'll know soon about Croc's past. Let me know if I missed some hints ! :D

[theoi-crow]

The humans in Greek Mythology are the mega rich and powerful:

In my college classes people are often shocked when I tell them my favorite part of Greek mythology is the gods themselves and I'm not a big fan of the humans.

99% of my classmates prefer the humans in mythos, especially the ones that stick it to the gods like Sisyphus and feel bad for humans like Kassandra and Helen who have been wronged by the gods because "they're just like us." My classmates and teachers hate the gods and don't understand why anyone in modern times would want to worship such violent and selfish beings whenever I point out there are still people who worship them. They hold onto the idea that people in mythology embody the human experience of being oppressed by terrible gods and fate and we should feel bad for them because "they're human just like us" but they forget that the people in Greek Mythology are NOT just like us. They are more relatable to medieval royalty, colonizers and ultra rich politicians who make laws and decisions on wars and the fates of others, especially the poor and the very vulnerable.

Every hero or important human in Greek Mythology is either some form of royalty or mega rich politician/priest-priestess (of course this is with the exception of people who are explicitly stated to be poor like the old married couple in the myth where Zeus and Hermes pretend to be panhandlers). All of them have an ancient Greek lifestyle more relatable to Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and especially to British royalty during the British empire, than the average person.

All of them.

Odysseus, Patroclus, Theseus, Helen of Troy, Kassandra, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Perseus, Hercules, Aeneas, Paris, Any human who has a divine parent or is related to one, etc. Although sometimes the story omits it, it is heavily implied that these are people who own hundreds or even thousands of slaves, very poor farmers and the tiny barely there working class as royal subjects.

They are the ones who make laws and whose decisions massively affect the fates of so many people. So no, they can't just be forgiven for some little whim, because that little whim affects the literal lives of everyone under their rule. By being spoiled they've just risked the lives of thousands of people and possibly even gotten them killed like when Odysseus' audacity got every single slave and soldier in his ships killed or when Patroclus as a kid got upset and killed another kid for beating him at a game. (A normal person wouldn't kill another person just for winning a game but royalty and those who think they're above the law do it all the time, plus the class status of the child wasn't mentioned but the way he didn't think he'd get in trouble implies the kid was of lower class, possibly the child of a slave or a foreign merchant.)

The gods get a bad reputation for punishing the humans in mythology but, if not them, who else is going to keep them accountable when they are the law?

And whose to say the humans beneath them weren't praying to the gods in order to keep their masters in check?

Apollo is the god in charge of freeing slaves, Zeus is the god of refugees, immigrants and homeless people, Ares is the protector of women, Artemis protects children, Aphrodite is the goddess of the LGBT community, Hephaestus takes care of the disabled, etc. It wouldn't be surprising if the gods are punishing the ultra rich and powerful in these myths because the humans under their rulership prayed and sent them as they did historically.

Every time someone asks me if I feel bad for a human character in a myth, I think about the many lives affected by the decision that one human character made and if I'm being completely honest, I too would pray to the gods and ask them to please punish them so they can make more careful decisions in the future because:

They are not just like us.

We are the farmers, a lot of our ancestors were slaves, we are the vulnerable being eaten by capitalism and destroyed by the violence colonialism created. We are the poor subjects that can only pray and hope the gods will come and correct whatever selfish behavior the royal house and mega rich politicians are doing above us.

And that's why I pray to the gods, because in modern times I'm dealing with modern Agamemnons who would kill whatever family members they have to in order to reach their end goal, I'm dealing with everyday modern Achilles who would rather see their own side die because they couldn't keep their favorite toy and would gladly watch their subjects die if it means they eventually get their way. The ones that let capitalism eat their country and it's citizens alive so long as it makes them more money. These are our modern "demigods," politicians who swear they are so close to God that they know what he wants and so they pass laws that benefit only them and claim these laws are ordained by God due to their close connection just like how Achilles can speak to the gods because of his demigod status via his mother.

Look at the news, these are humans that would be mythical characters getting punished by Greek gods which is why anything Greco-Roman is jealousy guarded by the rich and powerful and is inaccessible to modern worshippers because Ivy League schools like Harvard and Cambridge make sure to keep it that way. That's what we're dealing with. These are the humans these mythical beings would be because:

In our modern times the humans in mythos would be the politicians and mega rich that are currently ruining our society and trying to turn it into a world where only the rich can manipulate wars and laws, just like they do in mythology.

Fuck them.

I literally have so much more to add about my disdain for them and I didn't even touch on the obvious ancient Greek propaganda.

[yawntu]

Okie your right bestie now that your ask box is open you have to do the avatar guys reacting to spicy body piercings. Neteyam, Roxto, Ao’nung and Lo’ak I AM BEGGING YOU

/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡

a/n: Head so empty had to get this out though bc two other people agreed tongue ring was chefs kiss. We have a bunch of ancient cultures who pierced their tongues ritualistically so the Na’vi probably do it

Pairing(s): Ao’nung x reader, Neteyam x reader, Roxto x reader, Lo’ak x reader

word count: Little under or ~1k for each character

warnings: NSFW / MDNI, Characters are 18+, Spice under the cut, all characters are 18+, proceed with caution. Descriptions of sexual activity, Alludes to fallacio, Sexual situations, Vulgar language. Inspecting? They’re looking inside your mouth idk. Spit kink (Neteyam), idk man if there’s something i miss lmk

꧁ Aonung: is no stranger to bodily modifications. He can confidently say he did not love the feeling of being tattooed the way some of his aunties and uncles would swear they did. He didn’t brag that he could fall asleep though the pain of ink being malleted security into his thick skin. Which is why for a second Aonung cannot seem to comprehend how his squirmy little girlfriend could have sat through such an ordeal, cringing at the pang of jealously that rises in him at the idea that others would have the same foul thoughts regarding the adornment that he has.

One of his favorite places to be is the netted hammock that sways outside of his marui. He enjoys the cooling sea breeze through his downed hair while watching the waves dance in the wind. Mindlessly keeping an eye out for anything that may intrigue him. It was undoubtably a good place to be whenever he found himself to be stressed or tired. Even better- it was a peaceful place to relax with you. He can agree to himself that he liked this spot even better when your legs straddled his waist and he got to rub loving circles onto your body with the pads of this thumbs while you joined in on his sea gazing. Its only when you shift on his torso that he realities thoughts had wondered past the words you were speaking. It was not often that you would loose his devoted focus, however, he realized he was not really listening to you as you spoke. Not in a cruel or inattentive way way. He did not mean to disregard you. He was just too distracted at the soft slur you give off. That was different. He has spent so long grasping at every word you said- every noise to fall from your perfect mouth. So he knows that there is something wrong.

“You break a tooth?”

He knows he is rude for cutting you off and even ruder for jostling you up as he sits up slightly in worry. Evident concern that you had fallen or bit into something and broken a tooth and that is where the slur of your words came from. That you were in pain. Though it had been some time since the incident, he remembered when Tsireya’s best friend had faced a similar ailment and his mother had been forced to pull the tooth from her skull. He shuddered remembering the ordeal, and hoped you would not go though the same pain.

“Nuh-uh,” you assure rubbing a hand against his soft cheek, eyes softening in endearment at his worry.

Your sweet boy is sitting up further to move closer to you in query when you greet him with the sight of your pretty wet tongue sticking out past your soft lips. The prettiest adornment nestled on your tongue makes his lower stomach twitch. You can’t help but pull yourself back a bit in surprise at the sight of his imposing form sitting up quicker then you expect him to. The natural reflex of your body as he adjusts your position in the hammock you were both meant to be napping on. Your movement only results in his thick calloused palms making a firm grasp for your cheeks, holding your face steadily in front of him for his viewing pleasure,

“Open your mouth.”

He’s bossy, and for a second you worry he absolutely hates it and will instruct you to remove it once you give into his demand. The thought alone is what keeps you from listening to him quick enough for his liking. Which is probably why once your lips finally start to part again his pointer finger is quick to hook over your lower teeth, pulling your jaw open so he could inspect you once again. Not giving you a choice in closing your mouth once again.

All you can do is peer down at his inquisitive eyes that seem to be judging the very ivory of your teeth and whine at how intently he is staring down your welcoming throat. He does not mean to look so incredulous as he inspects your wet mouth. Your tongue is swollen and the intrusion of his long finger has your salivary glands working overtime coating the little ball in you saliva. You look perfect on his lap, spitting all over his finger as it hooks your jaw wide open for him. He only removes the binding finger from your mouth when he inquires,

“Who touched you?”

You’re confused for a second, not realizing he means the piercing until the pad of his finger caresses the tip of your tongue careful to avoid the sore center. He can’t help but wonder what burly large man had touched your pretty fleshy tongue that belonged to him. He feels terribly for the anger that bubbles at the thought of said man getting to see you sat obediently, mouth open and waiting. He could only imagine what thoughts they had as your big pretty eyes stared at them while they made a new hole in your body. As if you mean to scorn him you only giggle. You giggle at his jealousy, and though it should vex him more he can’t help but feel soothed at your reaction,

“Your mo’ther,” you giggle and the material clinks against your teeth, and you slur over a too long bar that accommodated for the swelling.

It soothes him a little. His mother- your mother- had pierced you and not one of the men he had known with said job. Now the only issue at hand was the fact that he was sure other men would see it and have the same first thought that had crossed his own mind.

“It was for Eywa,”

The holy name cuts him from his unholy thoughts. He instantly meets your words with his objurgate simper that you’re used to. A unique expression that conveyed a playful scold that he knew was sure to leave you putty in his hands.

“Nah, you know better. That’s there for me,”

His words make your face flush a pretty shade of plum and you find it increasingly hard to look up at him. It’s endearing to him really, your cheek warm against his open palm. He runs the finger covered in your spit against your bottom lip,

“Ya, can’t wait till it heals. Gonna feel real good when you gag on my cock, huh tìhona?”

꧁ Neteyam doesn’t really care what you do to your own body. It’s your own body; how could he possibly tell you what to do with it. Besides the fact that he thinks it was cute how brave you were for sitting though it, he can’t help but find the way you toy with it annoying. Neteyam still thinks it has its own unique charn though.

Neteyam is too aware. It’s probably why he struggles so much to relax. Something always draws his attention, and he can’t stop his brain's desire to hyper-fixate on it. For this reason Neteyam is well aware of your tongue ring. In your defense he was aware of the adornment from the beginning. He knows so much about it as he was there as the sharpened point was pushed through you outstretched tongue while his mother howled in laughter at the way your tail extended out in shock at the pain.

In all honesty, he has rarely caught a glimpse of the jewelry since you had done it. Despite your loud mouth, the jewelry stayed relatively hidden behind your ivory canines. he guesses you just don’t open your mouth that wide. It’s a shame he doesn’t get the luxury of just catching a flash of the adornment. Instead, he lays here on an old roll-out woven mat, basking in the warm sun with you draped across him. It should be a calming ordeal. Yet you preoccupied yourself with rolling your tongue ring across the ridges of your teeth with no regard for the safety of the bones.

This is supposed to be relaxing. That was the point of coming out here to nap away from the intrusions of your families and burdens of society. As much as laying with you is meant to calm his ever-increasing nerves the fact that the clank of your tongue piercing gliding across your teeth in some sort of stim is ever present and driving him up the wall.

“Cut it out,”

His voice comes with a bite to your fleshy cheek which makes your eyes blink open. You pass him a displeased glance from where you lay next to him.

“Why? Am I irritating?”

You ask him so sweetly that if he had not been so sleep deprived he would have assured you that you were perfect and nothing you could do would ever vex him,

“Very. I’ll rip that thing out of your mouth,”

You laugh because he sounds exactly like his mother, yet had the same scolding undertone his father had often taken on. He is almost pleased with you when he feels you roll over half onto him, thinking you had accepted defeat and would settle down for seep. Relishing in the feeling of you tossing one of your legs over his waist and propping yourself up on one elbow to quickly cuddle against him. His sweet purr as you run your fingers through his braids swiftly almost makes you feel bad for the fact that you lean down to run your wet muscle from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his cheek. It is almost scary how slowly his eyes open. He cannot even feign shock at the way you play with him and his dwindling patience. It is ridiculous- you are ridiculous. Yet you are still shocked (and delighted) at how quickly Neteyam is hooking his leg around yours and rolling the both of you over so your back presses firmly to the mat behind you in retaliation for your annoying actions.

“Does being a imp bring you satisfaction?” He asks, though there’s no indication of real annoyance.

You grin up at him so pretty too, he can’t help but appreciate your mouth. The plush of your soft lips, and the shine of your ivory teeth,

“Undoubtably!” you chip,

And then his thumb runs across your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly so he can look at the red of your gums.

“Open your mouth, annoying girl.” he huffs down at you.

Though you intend to listen to him he does not give you the time too. Squeezing your cheeks between his freed palm until you have no choice but to part your lips for him. With your leg wrapped around his waist your foot rests on the small of his back and you can feel the muscles of his lower back flex as his tail flicks between his legs in excitement at the sight. As you loll your berry-fleshed tongue out for him he wastes no time in returning the crude indecency of your previous actions to you. You’re not dumbfounded when his spit lands on your waiting tongue, but you do jerk under him with a huff. Nonetheless, you are so good for him still, waiting for him to smile and give you a slurred go-ahead before you swallow.

Neteyam guesses he likes the stupid thing. Gives him something to aim at.

꧁ Roxto is shy. Not with normal people. But when you speak to him so pretty him he can’t help but tense up at the way his mind wanders. Especially as you sit there blabbering about your home in the jungle, she should be listening but he’s too busy eying the piercing in your tongue and wondering what it would feel like on him.

Rotxo is sweet. So sweet that he feels terrible for the way he stares at your mouth from where he is lent opposite on a thick mangrove root while you speak. Chirping away at him because you had grown the closest to him out of everyone after your arrival.

Don’t get him wrong. He could spend his whole day and whole night (and whole existence) with you. He liked nothing more than sitting pleasantly next to you or with his head on your lap while you spoke. He had been thankful for the fact that you had gotten the closest to him out of anyone you could have chosen when your family arrived at his home. He truly thought you were the most interesting person he had ever met. Perhaps that is why he watches you so intently. As if he is worried he will miss even a fraction of what you had to offer. He felt like he had known a decent amount about you. Knew you well enough that he could predict what you would say before you had even said it. Which is probably why he is so eager to get his question out.

“What is in your mouth?”

He just faces the nalutsa head-on. Blurts his question out; almost cutting your sentence off early. Once your eyes snap up to meet his from where you picked at stones on the ground. Your tongue is rolling out of your mouth in response as you stand to face him,

“This?”

Of course you sound silly as you talk around your tongue, but Rotxo is just looking at the modification. His first question is did it hurt, and you gave him a deadpan ‘obviously’. Despite this, you seem to be far more interested in this line of questioning than you had been while you were rambling. Ears are drawn forward in his direction, arms behind your back while your tail twirled behind you.

When he asks why you would do such a thing (despite having tattoos himself) you tell him it was a thing some of the more spiritual people of your clan would do. He could not help but feel a little guilty at the fact that all he can think about is how it would feel twirling around the head of his cock. How pretty you would look sitting on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to paint the shiny little adornment white. He doesn’t even realize that his eyes are trained down on you, and his tail sways between his legs.

But you notice. You notice the way he relaxes on his arms more. How his pretty sea-foam green eyes relax as he maintains tantalizing eye contact. The fact that his ears are drawn back, his jaw is clenched and his tail thumps slightly against his own leg, dragging across the ground behind him would be evidence alone of where his thoughts had traveled to. The thick bulging at the brown fabric of his tweng however seals his fate. You giggle at him. If all it took to work him up was a flash of your tongue then you will surely be the death of him. He is not even listening to why you had done it, what it meant. Ignoring all talks of salvation so he could look down at you and think of what you could only fantasize about.

“Ya, but you do not really care why I got it, huh?”

Your question catches him off guard, mostly because you are right and he’s too busy thinking about you to notice that you had once again begun to ramble. He is terrifyingly intrigued when your moving to stand right in front of him, head cocked up curiously at him, an amorous smirk on your lips.

“You just care about what I can do with it.”

Like the tease you are, you glance down at his hips. It is only then he realizes how tight the confines of his bottoms had gotten.

“You really are a devil huh?” His fingers are digging into the bark of the root he leans on as he huffs out the only thing he could think to say. He supposes there was no honor in hiding anything now- to bashfully try and defend the situation. That pretty tongue of yours sliding past your teeth to lick across your lips,

“If you want a vrrtep I can show you a vrrtep,”

Your voice is charmingly playful, and he can hear the click of the ring against a tooth. As your fingers dance across his lower stomach you’ve all but convinced him to be at your mercy with no effort. When you wordlessly drop to your knees before him he cant help the noise that ripples through his chest. Parts of him buckle at the idea of letting you be in charge and show him more of that pretty tongue ring but he can’t help but be honorable. Try to gain some sort of dominance. He thought he had gained the upper hand when at the contact of one of his big palms to the back of your head. The assumption was foolish of him. To think for a second he had the upper hand. The feeling of the cool material on your tongue sliding up his thigh has his fingers knotting in your hair and his breath coming out in huffs. He thinks it’s perfect- you’re perfect. He can’t wait to feel it everywhere.

꧁ Lo’ak doesn’t mean to not notice really, you were both so busy. You should take it as a compliment how hard he focuses on your eyes when you talk. But when he finally catches on that somethings different about you and you show him he can’t help but get too excited.

You were Lo’aks very best friend. In fact, you could not recall a point in life where he was not at your side while your gaggle of friends got into mischief. In all honestly you had spent your childhood following Lo’ak around like his shadow, and it is a habit that has followed you into your adulthood. You know he is plagued with an overabundance of energy and thus kept you entertained the best. Lo’ak was many things- emotionally aware, compassionate, charming, and with no effort made you feel alive. He’s probably why you were a bit of an adrenaline junky, and why you so eagerly agreed to the modification to your body after your Uniltaron. There was some reason behind the bleeding that you did not quite know if you cared about more then the fact that there was a cool piercing in your mouth.

Most importantly, you had hoped Lo’ak would have noticed the piercing quickly, however, the fact that Lo’aks own Uniltaron was the day before yours and he (like his father) had an intense experience, meant that you had uncharacteristically been apart for what you considered too long. Lo’ak had spent the days in which your tongue was at its most swollen (and thus noticeable) resting at home. Though you had been plagued with your own duties which made any meaningful interactions between Lo’ak and yourself non-existent since then. This meant that he just hasn’t noticed the new addition to a body he was rather familiar with. The lapse in time spent together was not something either of you had been used to, nor particularly fond of.

Which is why Lo’ak is blabbering to you wildly while you both eat your supper. You think he’s cute despite talking with his mouth full, and your dazed staring is what pulls Lo’ak out of his excitement and forces him to stare back at you. It is when he noticed you’re eating lighter than usual.

“Soup? It’s too warm for soup,” his tone indicates it’s an astute observation in his mind, “Are you sick?” He asks, reaching to touch your head. You snicker at him as you smack his lingering hand away,

“No, skxawng- you really hadn’t noticed?”

The playful faux sadness in your voice still barbs at his heart. It is quickly replaced with an indescribable feeling when you open your mouth for him and he’s greeted with a heart-stopping view. Eywa you were pretty, and for a second you looked like you could really be his- looking up right at him with your mouth wide open. It’s innocently possessive for a second, really he hadn’t thought too much into why he had reacted to the view in such a way. That was until he noticed the little ball perched on the center of your tongue. Like the little stones they found in the river mollusks they used as jewelry.

“Oh shit!”

His response makes you shut your mouth and snicker while your tail wags faster than you had been used to. You even turn your head in to avoid his ardent eyes. Though Lo’ak is quick to brace his hands on the wooden table to lean over and follow your gaze,

“I wasn’t done- hey,” and when he pinches your cheeks in his hand he almost knocks over your soup with the enthusiasm he exudes.

“You are acting like a fool,” your smiling half out of amusement, half out of pure inarticulate flabbergast at how quickly he had become interested in the orifice.

“Does it hurt?” He questions.

If it’s possible his smile grows larger at the shake of your head,

“Let me kiss you then,”

It leaves his mouth before you can even tell him how the pain has passed. It’s incredulous, how brazen Lo’aks words are considering his parents were barely out of earshot also enjoying their meal.

“Are you the one with a fever?”

Your voice crack is loud as you grip his wrist, and you make a note that you lean closer to him almost subconsciously.

“What? We have kissed quite a bit?”

In secret- in private- not when everyone you knew was right there, you were sure people presumed but you did not particularly feel the need to deal with the questioning eyes of either your families or your friends.

“You’re parents are right there, Lo’ak. I am not-” But his pretty wide smile cuts you off, and his tail swings down to snatch your swaying one

“We can go somewhere they’re not,”

There’s a snort in his voice like it’s the obvious answer. As though the both of you getting up and walking away together wouldn’t have drawn the same questioning gaze that kissing would have cast upon you, Eywa knows why you are dumb enough to nod at him. Quickly moving to stand up first, but pause when his tail stays wrapped right around yours halting your movement, and you look to him quizzically.

“You gotta wait a minute before we’re going anywhere,”

You’re confused. He was just so eager to be alone with you. How could he possibly be more interested in his previously abandoned meal? And how can he be chuckling at you- and why is the free arm he had propped on the table motioning towards the bench you both sat on and- oh. Thats why. The undeniable tent forming. A reminder why you so quickly agreed to be whisked away by him.

[hugemilkshake]

hii! okay sooo....

seeing you write a Yandere Ancients x Reader....that got me thinking....what if it was the Dragons? YANDERE dragons? OMG SCREAMS AAAAAAAARGRHRGRRGRH ( im obsessed...i love yanderes sm they make me crazy MUAHAHHA i crave for more yandere dragon cookies content YUMMY )

same plot, basically the dragons (yandere) react to reader's rejection to them and pushes them away or something? or what if reader prefers someone else? i would really LOVE to see their reactions heh....IF U SEE THIS I BEG OF YOU- it would be the happiest moments of my LIFE if u do this RAHHHH anyways...THANKIE AND GOODBAI COOL PERSON !1!1 *skedaddles away*

(ok seriously i love they way u write the dragons. i crave more of ur amazing content hshshshsh)

Enjoy the milkshake! I’m a slow writer lololol and also my jaw hurts-

I would do Lychee and Longan but I can’t think of any ideas for them rn </3

Pitaya, Ananas and Lotus getting rejected

-Romantic-

!TW! Under the cut there will be stuff like guilt tripping, arson, punishing innocent people, forced starvation, implied cheating, manipulation and obsessive behaviors

Pitaya Dragon

You were already happy with the cookie you were with, your life was practically perfect.

But The Great Red Dragon thought that you’d drop everything just to be with them. I mean imagine being with one of the strongest characters on earthbread! You’d be treated well!

But… your more loyal than the dragon thought.. Your loyalty was something admirable but Pitaya hated that it wasn’t for them. You saw the dragon try to play it off normally but there was and underlying rage.

A month goes by you lived your normal life, the confession occasional coming up in your thoughts. Today was an average day, a clear sky and cool wind.

But then… you smelt it… smoke..

Smoke and the stench of burnt butter. You eyes gaze up at the sky and you see the smoke drifting across the blue sky, staining it in a dark gray. You look and spot that the smoke is coming from the local village, that same village your partner was visiting…

—————————————

When you rejected Pitaya, they were very angry. For days they burned and destroyed their cave.

But after they cooled down a bit they cleaned their cave up. Not because they accepted your rejection, but because they had a plan

They see how horrified you were at the sight of burnt cookies and homes, but most importantly… your partner being held up by the collar.

You had an ultimatum. Either save your partner and go with Pitaya or you let your partner and more cookies die, I mean… you wouldn’t want to be the cause of so many deaths right?

If you go with Pitaya, you are always in their vicinity. The dragon is quite clingy to you. They have their tail wrapped around time or your resting in their lap

They feel a little bad for forcing you to come with them, but not bad enough to let you go.

Ananas Dragon

A rejection to The Golden Dragon is quite the insult, but a rejection in favor for another? That’s just blasphemy.

After your rejection, your tribe started to suffer. Fruit stoped being produced, fish avoided the tribes hunting grounds and cookies started getting sick.

No one knows why, other tribes aren’t experiencing this, so why is yours?

Some cookies start to suspect that you have something to do with it, why else are there so many golden treasures and trinkets around your home?

Some cookies think about sacrificing you to the Golden Dragon, others think you did something to anger the dragon… which is exactly what Ananas Dragon wants…

—————————————

Your rejection was the most disrespectful thing Ananas Dragon has heard. I mean, you would be spoiled in riches beyond your wildest dreams! And yet, you choose some.. BORING old cookie over them?! Blasphemy.

The only thing that they could think of is to punish you. Your tribe had it good for too long. It’s time to bring some trouble.

All food sources started to die out. Anything you’d grow would die, all and any fish would be no where to be found.

Cookies of your tribe had to start rationing food and even eating plants that wouldn’t be considered edible, just to avoid starvation.

But due to the food situation, cookies were starting to get sick.

But while this happened, the more gold was left at your house. Cookies started to think you had something to do with this

The more who think you did something… the quicker Ananas Dragon will get you in their grasp…

Lotus Dragon

This confession didn’t happen immediately. It happened when you were head over heels. Yes, you have a partner but that doesn’t mean you can’t fall for someone else right?

It’s slow but Lotus is very patient. They can wait for their wish to come true. But while they’re waiting… why don’t you listen to them play their mandolin for a bit?

Don’t worry about your partner! They didn’t think about coming with you, they might not be as loyal as you think… but that’s probably not the case!

Right..?

—————————————

Lotus knows you’re loyal to your partner, and they know that you’d reject them, so unlike some other dragons, they would make you and your partner fall out of love.

Friendship. That’s where all love usually starts.

To befriend a dragon is quite a great feat. Others are envious and amazed at your friendship with the wish giving dragon

But… Lotus whispers doubts about your partner… like why don’t they spend time with you? They don’t seem to notice when you’re upset so why do they stay with you?

And unknown to you (and lotus) cookies tell your partner that they aren’t good enough for you since you are apparently friends with a dragon.

In a matter of time… you and your partner are broken up and you actually accept Lotus Dragons confession

But be warned… if you even come close to figuring out that they aided in breaking you and your partner up… you might get locked up…

[mask131]

Some people are very confused about why, in the myth of the Judgement of Paris, the three goddesses who fall for the Apple of Discord trick are Aphrodite, Hera and Athena. They usually understand why Aphrodite and Hera would fall for the trick of "the most beautiful" - one is the goddess of love, sexuality, romance and beauty ; the other is the queen of the goddesses. But when it comes to Athena, they tend to have a hard time seeing the goddess of wisdom, war, peace, intelligence and virginity get enroled into a "I'm more beautiful than you" petty feud.

... Except it is very much in line with her character, and yes, these three deities are in classical mythology the most vain of the goddesses.

Now, I will here use both Greek and Roman example mixed together because I do not have time to do a thorough split and explanation for everything - so rather let us take an overview of the goddesses' legends as a whole, throughout the centuries.

Aphrodite is vain, this is something that has been established regularly. She is a being of seduction and love, she is the most beautiful of the goddesses since birth and if it wasn't enough she had her husband create a magical belt for her that makes her attractive to anyone who sees her (a husband she cheated on with one of the worst gods of Greek mythology just because said husband was ugly and the other god was hot. Hated but hot.)

One version of Echo's legend has Pan's unrequired love for her caused by Aphrodite as a punishment for not giving her the "most beautiful" award (and turned the other contestant who won into a shark). Aphrodite persecuted Psyche because she was said to be more beautiful than her. Myrrha was cursed by Aphrodite to fall in love with her father because her mother claimed she was more beautiful than the goddess. And there's a lot of other tales like that - so it is well established that not only is Aphrodite the most beautiful goddess, she makes al lot of efforts to stay that way and will be VERY angry if anyone refuses her this title (sounds a bit insecure if you ask me but what do I know?)

If we go to Hera, we have again a certain case of pride and a status to be held. Hera is renowned for her beautiful eyes (the famous "cow-eyes" which no, are not an insult, but were an Ancient Greek compliment, because cow-eyes were deemed to be beautiful), and she is the queen of the gods, Zeus' eternal queen, THE first goddess among them all. That's a certain status to hold - and since she is known to have a bad temper, this comes of as a form of vanity and jealousy. The fact Herakles was named Herakles, "the glory of Hera", was precisely in an attempt to appease the goddess' wrath by appealing to her with flattery (turns out it didn't work). Remember: when Zeus had children of his own, without female help, such as Athena (or rather when it looked like he produced Athena on his own), Hera got pissed off because she saw this as a personal offense and tried to have a child of her own without Zeus just to prove him she could do it too (and the result was always disastrous, ranging from Hephaistos to FRIGGIN TYPHON).

This also ties into the whole idea of Hera persecuting Zeus' lovers and "bastards" out of jealousy. Note that she does not persecute ALL of Zeus' lovers, nor does she persecutes all of his extra-marital children... She always picks up those that Zeus seems to favor. That's how it all started with Herakles: Zeus was boasting about how he was going to shower his son with great gifts and a glorious destiny and all that, and Hera wouldn't have that. But she did not persecute Herakles' mother in any way... Just the son that Zeus clearly favoritized. And it becomes VERY obvious Hera's jealousy is not just related to a case of "cheating" in the case of Leto. Hera persecuted Leto for bearing Zeus' children and being deemed more beautiful than her by Zeus... When the myths are clear that Leto was Zeus companion (and possible wife) BEFORE Hera married Zeus. Before this whole story became another one of Zeus' cheating cases, this was a tale of Hera, unmarried to Zeus yet, simply being jealous of Leto being deemed more beautiful than her.

So this was all quite well established... But what about Athena, then, you ask?

Athena is also vain. I am sorry to announce it to you, but all the goddesses of Ancient Greeks have a flaw in myths (not in religion though, in religion all the goddesses are perfect and benevolent, but in legends and texts they are human-like with flaws and vices), and Athena's personal vice is vanity. The whole Arachne myth has sometimes been interpreted as a manifestation of Athena's personal pettiness, as in she cannot stand that someone is better than her at weaving. (It is a bit complicated since as I said before the legend of Arachne is purely Roman not Greek but I also told you I was going to mix Roman and Greek today so you have been warned). Even outside of the legend of Arachne, there is the legend of the flute - how Athena invented the first flute, but then cast it away and cursed it because when she played it, she looked ugly and people mocked her. This is probably the most famous legend about her vanity. And as I posted a long time ago - while this version of Medusa's legend was mostly lost to time because we lack the text, and it was preserved in scholia, we know that by Classical Greece the legend of Athena turning Medusa into a monster was quite popular... but it was all about Medusa being more beautiful than Athena, hence her being turned into a monster.

There's also a legend of a Meropis turned into an owl for mocking Athena's eye-color...

Anyway! Conclusion, it makes sense in the wider scope of Greco-Roman mythology to have these three goddesses be the one to fall for Eris' scheme, because they are the three most vain Olympian goddesses. Now it would have been weird if the candidates would have been, I don't know... Demeter or Hestia. These goddesses are not renowned for any vanity. But Athena? Yeah, makes sense.

EDIT: @teamrocketsfatknockers made a quite important point in a reblog and so I will add a point to my article.

I will insist that all I present to you above is from an "in-universe" point of view and a literal reading of the story. We are here talking of "humanized characterization" for the goddesses, and from a purely narrative, fictional point of view. That was my angle of attack: Why would Athena be considered "vain" in-story when we typically deem an "asexual virgin who hates romance and is more into war and high-intellects" as someone someone not much into superficiality or appearances.

But as I repeatedly said before, each myth has at least three levels of interpretation and three meaning warped in one. A religious meaning (though the one in the Judgement of Paris is... unknown to me so far), a literal meaning (as in we have a story, with characters, and this is a fiction) and a metaphorical or philosophical meaning. So I need to highlight that the myth of the Judgement of Paris can be read in a philosophical way as such. Why are these three goddesses searching for the Golden Apple aimed at the "fairest of them all"? Because all three of them embody the most attractive and seductive concepts a Greek man can ever hope for ; they are all three the ideals of Ancient Greek mindset and society. As such Paris' choice and the goddess' quarrels isn't about just satisfying the petty vanity of superficial divas anymore - it becomes a deep debate about which ideal, which dream is the most desirable for a Greek hero, and by extension for a Greek man. Hera is royalty, supremacy, political power and domination ; Athena is peace and wisdom, heroism and cleverness ; Aphrodite is romance, love, beauty and sexuality. And this all reflects within their gifts to Paris - which are in fact extension of what the goddesses themselves embody and represent.

You could sum it up as: Do you want to be a king, a hero or a lover? What would reward you most in life, a crown, a sword or a wife? What allures to you more, power, glory or romance?

Again, that's the beauty of the Greeks myths - and of all myths in the world. They depict simultaneously the gods as the pettiest more vicious selfish and flawed persons you ever met, basically warped caricatures of humanity... and as deep, profound, essential principles of human nature and human society, whose every interaction with mortals causes philosophical debates, ideological questioning and existential crisis.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Hey if you could can you write for the Ancients comforting a fellow ancient reader who got kidnapped by their beast and chat with them? (I don't know how else to work this I'm not good at explaining things)

Plot suggestion: basically it's kind of just the scene from Sam Remy Spider-Man from Peter Parker getting kidnap to Green Goblin giving them a proposition then flying away saying "THINK ABOUT IT "HERO"" but with some alterations

Here's the scene that I'm talking about

https://youtu.be/sAfxBXAQCZM?si=LfuEqW_z1cqA9uqp

Brother, I had to go watch that scene- I will gladly do it. Side note, most likely going with the light of patience Y/N cookie because that's currently the only Y/N ancient cookie I've created.

Comfort after the chaos

After a long lasting series of VERY unfortunate events, you were back in your kingdom and exhausted. You just endured what seemed to be a forever lasting trip to and from Beast-Yeast and you had a lot on your mind. Especially after your encounter with the beasts. You have no idea how, but you had to travel there 5 times. And in all those five times you found yourself held captive. You were doing this to help your fellow ancients, NOT BE KIDNAPPED 5 TIMES IN THE TIME SPAN OF FIVE WEEKS!

Speaking of the ancients, they were all worried about you. You didn't have a previous holder of the light of patience, so there was no particular beast who was after your soul jam. But that was more of a reason to help your companions in defeating their beasts. However, you seemed to be targeted more than your allies, and no matter how hard you tried you found yourself in the same situation. In the clutches of the beasts.

The Beasts didn't harm you physically, but the mental trauma was far from ceasing anytime soon. Everything each of them said correlated to the conclusion that you'd be better off joining them and giving in to the corruption. Because there's nothing more the people love more than to watch a hero fall. In the end they'd all grow to be bitter to you, grow to hate you despite how much you've done for them. They'd hurt you and part of you knew it was true. "So why not hurt them fiirst?" That was always the question. All those interactions ended with them leaving you to think about it and you had never quite recovered from the experience

Your discomfort and unease did not go unnoticed by the other ancients, oh not at all. Every time you returned from beast yeast you seemed more shaken up and all of them felt guilty for having you tag along only to return traumatized. With this in mind, they all tried to comfort you as best they could. Though you never actually told them what had happened during your time being a hostage, they were determined to soothe any discomfort.

"Do not allow Shadow Milk cookies words to get to you, Y/N cookie. Anything from that Beast can not be trusted." Pure Vanilla cookie stated as he pulled a placed a tea cup on the table in front of you. He walks behind you and pulls a blanket over your shoulders as a means to make you feel at ease. And it's working. "I promise you that he will never be given the chance to disturb you so much. I will always be here to stir you in the right direction if he ever tries to get in your head again"

"I apologize once again that you had to be dragged through that issue, Y/N cookie." Dark Cacao said, he had grown a bit soft after he saw how being kidnapped had effected you. Despite you reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, he couldn't just leave it be. Though he wasn't exactly... best with comfort, you could see he was trying. Caramel Arrow Cookie and Crunchy Chip cookie were doing more of the direct comforting for him, CA occasionally hugging you and making sure you were ok whilst CC had his cream wolves huddle around you to comfort you. Both methods worked quite well. They did this because Dark Cacao himself genuinely wasn't sure of how the best way to console you would be after encountering Mystic Flour cookie. But you did appreciate the effort.

"Go on Y/N cookie! I insist. Anything you want shall be yours" Golden Cheese said. She had a plan, and that plan was to spoil you filthy! Anything you had taken an interest in was immediately yours. And even if you didn't want anything she'd still buy you things she knew you liked or gave you comfort. She would take you on flights around the kingdom too. She had also grown a habit of hugging you and wrapping her wings around you as though to protect you. And she was protecting you. Protecting you from Burning Spice cookie, as she should've done when you were still in Beast-Yeast. She's got you, and she ain't letting NOBODY try taking you away from her. They'd have to catch these hands first! And that gave you a sense of security

"How are you feeling, Y/N cookie? You doing better?" Hollyberry cookie asked as she prepared another cup of juice. You were both outside and she had been more of an energetic comforter than the previous three. A bit of fresh air and exercise should be a good distraction from whatever the heck Eternal Sugar cookie had said to you. She had also gotten you a lot of juice. Like- A LOT. You weren't sure if she was trying to get you drunk or something but fortunately none of them seemed to have alcohol. At least not the ones she had given you. She was also quite insistent on a bit more training so you could better prevent such situations, which was something you expected more from Dark Cacao but for some reason it didn't happen. Regardless, she's wants you to be protected, even if it's not by her.

"Please don't stray too far away, Y/N cookie. I still have yet to fully adjust to the forest myself." White Lily cookie requested as you both took a stroll under the night sky. She had been a lot more cautious with you after having lost you to Silent Salt cookie. She tried everything that usually made her feel better with you. Taking you to flower gardens, having a cup of tea whilst reading a good book, cuddles, any and everything. She also had the faeries take care of your needs when she couldn't be near, which they did gladly since they were aware of your contribution to their queens victory. White Lily will make sure you are as comfortable as possible and having her around is comforting in itself.

[cassiebones]

Character Analysis: Rio Vidal

(because Aubrey Plaza currently has a chokehold on my psyche)

It hasn't been confirmed on the show, but we all know that Rio is Death, correct? They're not even being subtle about it, so I'm gonna take it from that angle.

Okay, so Rio is ageless. She prefers to take the form of Aubrey Plaza because Aubrey is a hot motherfucker. Agreed? Okay.

I have no idea when she would have come into existence, only because I have no idea the nature of Death in this universe. Is she one of many deaths? She must be, because people die all over and she has enough free time to build this hate/love relationship with Agatha, whom she finds the second the Darkhold stops hiding her.

I think she may specifically be Death for witches. She ferries magical humans to the other side, and has done since magic was first invented.

She was never a child, never a newborn. She was fully grown and cognizant from her inception, born knowing what her job was for her entire life. She existed in ancient times, seen by many mortals as different gods/goddesses. She took the shapes they'd already imagined her to have. She was Anubis, Hades, Shinigami, Osiris, Hecate, Charon...whom were all different entities, but she took their forms to bring comfort to the recently departed.

I feel like Rio had a lot of empathy for the first thousand or so years of doing this job. She listened to life stories as she ferried magical beings to their next journeys. She learned about society, about expectations, about why one might choose not to stay on the mortal coil, or why one might be taken from it by force.

She comforted the ones reticent to leave their physical bodies. She held the hands of too many young witches, taken too soon because of the fear that surrounded them. That's who she had the most empathy for: young, misunderstood witches.

Her empathy fades as humanity progresses. Witches are still persecuted, but many of them get on her nerves. They think so highly of themselves. They think they Death owes them something, that they deserve a second chance at life.

Nobody gets a second chance at life.

And while it's her job, she starts to kind of resent it. The spirits that won't leave piss her off. They disturb the living as often as they can and Rio gets blamed for it. This is why she hates ghosts.

But there's nothing she can do.

And then she meets Agatha. Agatha who is young and powerful and so scared when they first meet. Agatha, who has just caused the deaths of her entire coven. Agatha, who didn't mean to cause so much destruction; she just needs to be properly taught.

So Rio teaches her. I think they would have this kind of relationship where Rio fosters Agatha's talents, where she takes Agatha to places where she can be as destructive with her magic as she wants and nobody will judge or demonize her. And every time Agatha masters a spell or gives Rio that super proud smile, Rio falls a little more in love with her.

She revitalizes Rio's love for her job. And it's not like it's Agatha's fault that other witches keep attacking her. And it's not like she can truly control that siphoning thing every time it happens. It just is what it is.

Agatha feels bad the first time it happens, too. But then she takes on Rio's logic of "well, they shouldn't have done that then," and all is well.

Agatha is alive and safe and Rio gets more bodies to ferry, more work. She actually really loves her work, especially because it means she gets to spend more time with Agatha, who just can't stop getting attacked for some reason...

There are rules to her job, of course.

First and most important rule: Death cannot kill. It is a conflict of interest. It wouldn't be very fair to give herself more bodies to ferry. Soon enough, there would be none left. In theory, at least. It's like insider trading, in a way.

Another one: Death cannot bring back life to one who has died. That is also not fair, and it's actually not even something she can do. She isn't Life; she's Death.

And: Death must ferry souls as soon as possible to the other life. Souls that linger too long become ghosts and it gets harder for them to cross over. It's considered a failure on her part when a Spirit becomes a Ghost.

She regrets ferrying Nicholas. That was her son, too. I will entertain no other theories. She loved that kid. She was just as much his mother as Agatha was. She knew how much it would hurt Agatha, but she also knew that she couldn't allow Nicky to become a ghost. It would be a torturous existence for them both. And if Agatha had her way and reanimated his body, forcing his soul to remain there, it would be so much worse.

It is her biggest regret and the only scar she has.

She doesn't have to lick wounds to heal them. That's just something she does for Agatha. Agatha either doesn't know this or doesn't fight it. I cannot even decide which one is funnier.

Rio is more than her job, though.

She is also a bottom.

Only for Agatha.

Moving on.

When Agatha uses the Darkhold to disappear, whatever beacon spell they'd had on each other since practically the beginning of their courtship is interrupted. She cannot find Agatha. She cannot even see Agatha, not even if she was two inches from her own face. Agatha makes it so they never run into each other, no matter whom she kills.

And then Wanda gets the Darkhold and it's like a fire alarm blaring in Rio's ear. She goes immediately to Agatha's side.

Yes, immediately. You know that was not a three-season delusion that Wanda put her under. "Agnes" had many, many different TV shows running through the spellbound mind. She just wasn't broken out of it until Teen got there.

Herb was so nonchalant about her little "true crime bug" that there had to have been several different medical series, soap operas, firefighter shows, other cop shows, comedies, home improvement shows, reality shows (The Real Housewives of West View?), and a mockumentary or two that came before it.

And Rio was a guest star in all of them, willing Agatha to just wake up. But Agatha didn't recognize her. She just knew that she hated her, in every single mind show. She just hated Rio Vidal.

And Rio was just in a hell of her own making, trying desperately to break Agatha out but not knowing how.

She loves this woman so much. All the threats to kill her and telling others where to find her? Foreplay. I can totally see them trolling each other as they ran around New England, pointing fingers at one another, calling out "Witch!" and snickering as the torches are lit.

Their sex breaks down houses. They have done it in a grave. Rio attempts to murder Agatha at least twice a day at their peak; it's called flirting, Jennifer.

Agatha, obviously knowing that Rio can't actually kill her (and she cannot kill Rio for obvious reasons), feels safest when she's around. Because Rio defends her. She knows the things that Agatha has done and she loves her (not in spite of them, but sort of because of them. Girl's a freak.) anyway.

And Rio hates her mother-in-law, Evanora, with a passion. She definitely has a list of people she hates from all the souls she's had to ferry. A lot of white Puritan men are on that list for their role in the Salem Witch trials. But Evanora is #1 on that list. It's on sight for that bitch.

And I think that makes Agatha soft for Rio. Because nobody has ever defended her against her mother, for her whole childhood. Nobody except Rio.

Which is why Agatha is definitely the one who proposed.

It was a mundane kind of day. Her powers had just killed another coven. Before they attacked, however, one of the witches called Agatha a "Witch-Killer" and said that her mother had always been right about her. She'd heard of how evil Agatha was as a child and this just proved it.

Rio's hands had glowed green and as she took the woman by the throat, slamming her against a tree, screaming at her, telling her about how the true evil was the woman who hated her own child so much as to plan a whole execution after abusing her for her entire childhood. How Agatha was a survivor and so much more powerful than her mother could ever hope to be. And that witches like her had to wake up to it and--then the witch blasted Agatha and it was all over.

Rio huffed as she dropped the empty husk of a body, glaring at the spirit as it floated above it.

"That was your own fault," she said. "If you had just listened to me, none of this would have happened."

The witch just glared and Rio rolled her eyes, collecting the souls of the other witches who had attacked Agatha along with this dumb with.

"I'll be right back," she promised Agatha, who was still thrumming with magic.

"Marry me!" Agatha said as Rio disappeared.

She was halfway through with the job when the words registered in her mind. She got them across in record time, returning to find Agatha on her knees, waiting for her, a purple ring of something she'd made from magic. She was smiling up at Rio, tears in her eyes.

"What did you say?" Rio asked, her heart pounding.

"Marry me," Agatha repeated, her voice tight. "Rio Vidal, will you marry me?"

"Yes!" Rio dropped to her knees and tackled Agatha to the ground, raining kisses down on her while Agatha laughed.

And then they got married and lived happily for a century or two, until they had a son. I have no idea how Nicholas came to be. I have no idea why he is a Scratch rather than a Harkness or a Vidal. But I know he had two mommies who loved him more than anything. Rio probably never thought that she could be a wife to anybody, let alone a full mother, but she loved that boy. And she loves Agatha.

Rio has a big heart and she's a bit intense, but we love that for her.

11/10 character

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 4 - Reunion

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

request from ao3: Make one where they have a child but the female character doesn't tell Mavuika that she is expecting a child and distances herself from Mavuika please 🙏🙏

warnings/mentions of: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, talks about hypothetical major character death.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

"Mavuika?" you whispered, hearing her hum, clinging to her clothes as you buried your face in her neck. A sob escaped your mouth before you stop it, your lover holding you a little tighter as her ears picked up on the noise.

"I'm here, my darling," your achon cooed, pressing her lips to the crown of your head as you held onto her desperately.

"I've missed you." The words wouldn't escape your mouth without some force, your emotions getting the better of you thanks to your hormones, but Mavuika didn't know that.

"I've missed you too," she whispered, gently pulling you back so she could look you in the eye, as tears streamed down your face, "I'm sorry I've been so busy that you felt like you couldn't approach me."

Your heart fluttered, closing your eyes to lean into her touch as she cupped your face, "the Pilgrimage and the Night Warden Wars are more important..." you began, but Mavuika didn't respond. "Natlan needs you." Burying your face back into her neck after your archon wiped away your tears.

"You needed me, and still need me." Mavuika argued, but she knew deep down that you were right. She was the Pyro Archon... Natlan's people are her priority, but that includes you.

She could remember when she first met you, approaching the Scions of the Canopy to look for information on her family. Ancient names may have documented those warriors, but many people didn't receive them, yet still should be remembered.

"If you're looking for history from 500 years ago... your best chance is Chasca and Chuychu's younger sister. A wingless, but the drive to dig up as much history as possible has found many tribes a lot that was thought to be lost." Your Uncle Wayna advised the Pyro Archon, who thanked him for his help.

"Any idea where she could be found? Chasca is a peacekeeper, and Chuychu is a doctor, but..."

"Despite the sisters arguing against it, she moved out into her own place, plus... she's better with an outlander wing glider than with a qucusaur." Wayna explained, letting out a sigh, "there were rumours of her not even being from Natlan, but... she doesn't remember anything from before she was found and taken in by Chuychu's parents."

"I see..."

Mavuika kept this in mind as she approached you, spotting the intrigue but also sadness in your eyes when you caught sight of her. It was like you saw right through her walls, helping all you could to dig up information on her parents and younger sister.

"I hate that you'll never truly get to live. You ended your life early 500 years ago to be here, and then you'll sacrifice yourself for Natlan again if you need to... you'll never get to grow old, find love, have children and watch them grow up... you're so selfless, Mavuika. Natlan would get to live, but you wouldn't. You're so determined to save Natlan, but you don't want anyone to try save you." you confessed after many nights helping Mavuika with her plans.

She hadn't wanted to let you in, you weren't a warrior, (despite the training she had heard about from your sisters) or an ancient name bearer... You'd figured out too much just from your research, putting together the pieces to realise her sacrifices. Past, and future.

Maybe it was a moment of weakness, a moment of selfishness, that first kiss, that first touch, but Mavuika couldn't resist. She held back, hesistating as you frowned, realising why she had stopped.

"It's okay. I want to, not because you're Haborym, or Kiongozi... but Mavuika, so please..." that was all it took for Mavuika's restraint to be gone, leaning in to finally let her lips meet yours.

She could never have thought that that moment would have led to this. You, exhausted, crying in her arms as she held you close, wishing she had more time with you than less than a year.

"Please, don't go. I just... need to feel you a little longer," you began to beg as she shifted slightly, pulling you on top of her, until a squeak of pain escaped your lips.

"Did I-"

"No, no. It wasn't you, I'm just..." you hesitated, realising that you hadn't told her, "tender. I'll be fine..."

"Tender?" Mavuika's voice laced with confusion, her hands lingering at the hem of your shirt. However, she decided against asking to remove the cloth, instead resting her hands on your waist after you settled your head on her chest. "Are you injured?"

"I'll be okay, I'm not hurt. But, can we stay like this, just a little longer? I know you're really busy but..." Mavuika shushed you, holding you closer, as hands lingered under your shirt, drawing patterns on your skin.

Meanwhile, one of your hands lingered close to your belly, trying to be surreptitious but it helped you to self-soothe. Your other hand was a lot less calm however, holding onto Mavuika for dear life, like she would slip away any moment.

"I'm not going just yet. Even Archons need to sleep, my love." Pressing her lips to the crown of your head, her hand shifted, moving to hover over the hand on your stomach, causing a question to flicker in her mind.

Did you go to Chuychu about your sickness? If you did, what did your sister have to say? You seemed better, but the exhaustion, and the look Atea had on her face when she turned up at the People of the Springs, having just witnessed you and Mualani just leave...

Unfortunately, Mavuika couldn't ask you about it, hearing your breathing even out as sleep got its hold of you once again. A quiet sigh escaped her lips, appreciating your warmth as she closed her eyes and let sleep consume her too.

[dalishious]

Reclaiming Independence of the Dales

Before anything else, I’d just like to clarify that that vast majority of this is made of my own ideas, based on interpretation from the little canonical information provided, and a little inspired by my own people’s history and governing structure. Additionally, what I am presenting here is an ideal situation, not necessarily what I think is an immediately realistic outcome in the world-state established. So, please keep that in mind.

The Dales were established as a homeland for elves—a small piece of a continent that was once called their home in its entirety, before the humans colonized it—by Maferath in -165 Ancient. This was in reward for the eleven people’s participation in the fight against Ancient Tevinter. But in 2:10 Glory, Divine Renata I broke this treaty and declared an Exalted March against the Dales, ending in its annexation by Orlais.

[Related Post: All You Need to Know about the Exalted March of the Dales]

If Solas has very low approval with Inquisitor Lavellan, and Lavellan accuses him of not doing enough to help their people, he will say the following: “You could order Halamshiral returned to the Dalish, if you wished. But ultimately, you know that would fail. That even you cannot solve this.” I hate this with a burning passion. The reason I can’t do that, Solas, is because it’s not an option in the game! Why are you as a character angry at me, the player, for not doing something that is not an option for me to do? Why was this written? Just to push the point that it’s not worth it to try and fight back against oppression? Because if I refuse to accept hopelessness in real life, why would I in accept it in a video game where the story is made-up, and therefore anything is possible if the developers so wish it.

Regardless, according to Solas, the Inquisition has enough power to support the reclamation of an independent Dales. I imagine this would require a lot of political maneuvering within the Orlesian governance, and therefore I think the best opportunity to do this would be with Briala ruling through Gaspard. This would then later open the door for Briala to be the leader of the newly independent Dales, too. I would like to see Briala as ruler of the Dales not just because she is a favourite of mine, but because I genuinely believe she is the best established character fit for the job. She was trained in everything Celene was trained in, has first-hand experience in court, has extensive connections, and has demonstrated her ability and desire to utilize these skills and assets for the benefit of elven kind.

Briala’s blackmail on Gaspard may help prevent Orlais from invading again while under his rule, but to last longer, the Dales would need to establish itself as a strong, independent Nation with allies. This is why I believe it would also be important to have Leliana as Divine Victoria in such a world-state where this could happen. Leliana re-canonizes the Canticle of Shartan, and in making it available for the common person to understand, would ideally help sway the minds of the average Andrastian into supporting the Dales’s independence. The nobility would of course be much trickier, because they and the Chantry are the ones who actually benefitted from its annexation—but there is little they would be able to actually accomplish if they did not have the power of the people behind them.

As far as allies go, Ferelden could only gain from Orlais losing control of the Dales, because it would mean cutting Orlais off from a lot of Ferelden’s border, therefore reducing the threat of another invasion. Additionally, a leader with just plain good morals like say, Alistair, would easily accept the elven kingdom’s return. But even Anora is willing to grant part of the Korcari Wilds to the Dalish if Mahariel requests it, and while this sadly doesn’t last, it does show a positive sign into her potentially being open to the idea of an independent Dales as well.

I sincerely doubt that all Dalish clans would return to the Dales and re-settle down. After all, they have developed differentiating cultures over the years of wandering in separated groups, with different ideals and different ways of life that they might not want to give up. But many would return, and that would likely create conflict between the elves coming from the Dalish clans and the elves coming from the cities. We know that some prejudice exists against “flat-ears” as some Dalish call those from the city, and we know that city elves have adopted a lot of misinformation from humans into their views of the Dalish. It would take time and positive leadership to reconnect the people, without risking falling into some sort of hierarchy based on origin. This is why I do not believe one group or the other should single-handedly rule alone. Rather, I think there should be a Grand Council of High Keepers made up of those voted into the position each to represent a single district of the Dales. (I like the idea of there being seven High Keepers, not just because there are seven traditional districts of Mi’kma’ki, but because it works out that there seven of the Creators. So it makes sense that there would be seven High Keepers.) The Grand Council would meet and make decisions together, with one appointed leader at the head to act as the Council’s chair.

In terms of protection and order, the Emerald Knights should be reformed. This would include the Fade Hunters, to protect the people against demons and maleficarum, with there being no Circles or Templars.

Restoring the independence of the Dales would lead to a revival of elven culture in ways that could never happen before, because they would actually be free to pursue re-learning the language, re-discovering the history and culture, and sharing it all amongst each other. They would not have to fear arrest the crime of simply being an elf.  

But what of the other races presently living in the Dales? I see no reason why they would have to leave, so long as they would be willing to follow the Grand Council’s leadership. I imagine many nobility would flee to Orlais, simply because they would not stand for it. But for the average human or surface dwarf, their life wouldn’t really even change much; they’d still be managing their farms the same as always. Hell, it might even improve things for them, assuming the Grand Council gives fairer treatment than the nobility previously.

[weirdsht]

I really love characters with the tendency to bleed and be some human sacrifice. Tysm kdj and krs. 😭 i have a new idea altho I'm not sure if somebody's already done this. Cale and the group with someone who coughs out blood everytime they spill spoilers from the tcf novel? Like she's been transmigrated/reincarnated (whatev you desire (⁠^⁠^⁠). Bro is trying to help so bad bc they hate war so they do it subtly and carefully (imagine having to be careful with your wording, I can't even--) but can't help but shit out blood sometimes or most of the time cos they forget and get frustrated

Forgive me for i love miserable characters...

Hardbound (Paperback pt. 2) - Cale x Reader

notes: I decided to link it to another oneshot I did before because I think it fits. I hope that's okay!

tags: blood, like the whole fic is blood, heavy cursing, Cale might be ooc, NOVEL SPOILERS (near the end of book 1)

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Crimson, the colour of Cale’s hair.

That was the colour Cale can see right now. However, he is not looking at his hair.

“Ugh!”

Instead, he was looking at the blood dripping from your mouth.

“Stop speaking. This is not good for you.”

“Why not? You cough up blood all the time. Why can’t I do the same?”

You joked lightly but Cale didn’t like how weak your voice sounded. Indeed, he always coughs up blood. Especially whenever he overuses his ancient powers. But the blood he coughs up is dark red. Dead blood from his regeneration powers cleansing his body.

Not the vibrant crimson blood dripping from your chin. Blood from a beating heart, a sign of vitality as Eruhaben would say.

“I need to continue, you need to know about this. We must hurry up so just- ugh… so just listen.”

When you told Cale you were going to pull a “World Tree-nim and a Cale combo”, he didn’t know what he expected. 

It certainly wasn’t you trying to give out spoilers from your beloved book and coughing out copious amounts of blood.

“There will be monsters. Ones too hard to– Ugh! Fuck! I’m sure you understand what I mean.”

Drip

“That’s two out of five. Those things will be in a pit. It’ll look like statues, you will also see… you will also see an altar there…”

Drip

Drip

“You don’t need to speak anymore. Please, the rest of us will figure it out.”

“No, no. I’m fine really… Bear bastard, you know who it is, hostages. He’ll– Ugh!”

Drip. Drip. Drip

“It’s Tasha’s people. For a summoning– Fuck that one really hurts! I'm trying to speak as vaguely as possible already, what the hell…”

“Please… I’m going to tape your mouth shut if you don’t shut up.”

Drip

Drip

Drip. Drip. Drip

“I’d like to see you try. The tape won’t stick with all– with all this blood.”

“Haaa”

“Enough jokes. The fourth and fifth ones are connected. In Endable, watch out for bears and black– watch out for black mages. And avoid– Shit! Avoid using instant. But I'm not sure if it's… if it's possible… I need to speak… to speak to Raon. The last spoiler is for him– ugh..!”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Cale wanted to refuse. He wanted this to end.

At first, it was just from your mouth.

The blood that is.

Then it started dripping from your left eye. Naturally, your right eye was next.

Then your nose. Then your ears.

Before the commander knew it, your entire face was covered with blood. He tried to wipe it, but they were dripping so quickly that it did nothing.

Cale doesn’t know how are you still conscious. He isn’t even sure if you’re still breathing. That was why he wanted you to shut up. That was why he desperately wanted this to stop.

But it can’t

Cale can’t refuse nor can he end this.

It was because you already made up your mind. And since you did, there’s no stopping you now.

So he gets Raon. Warned the toddler that the sight inside the room would not be pretty, but he must listen. Because their futures are resting upon the words you are about to say.

Upon the words written in your beloved book.

“Human…”

“I know… If you can’t listen I’ll listen for you and rely on the message.”

“No… I’m great and mighty. Because I’m great and mighty I shall listen to this conversation myself.”

Raon flew over to where you were. Placing himself on your lap as he uses his stubby paws to hug you.

“Ah, it feels comforting to have such a great and mighty being comforting me. But you’ll get blood on you– Ugh..!”

Drip. Drip.

The black dragon didn’t care about the blood. He just hugged you tighter at the sound of you coughing up more blood.

“Raon Miru-nim remember this well. Things might get messy and despite my meddling things might still go awry. So I’m telling you right now. In Endable, Cale might become incapacitated to fight– Fuck! Ugh, I promised to not curse in front of you…”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drip…

Drip..

“It will be hard, you will need to do everything yourself, without Cale. In fact, you will have to do his job– ugh… but you must do well. Remember, the first thing you have to do is have Mila-nim on standby. She can heal him.”

Cough

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip

“I want to say more… but I’m reaching my limit…”

Raon tightened his hug and you weakly reciprocated it. You aren't sure if the wetness you feel in your shirt is from your blood or the dragon’s silent tears. Nonetheless, you still tried to hug Raon tighter.

In the meanwhile, Cale was already calling for servants and healers to attend to you as soon as you admitted your limit. His voice was laced with unusual panic. It made the others who didn’t know what was happening move with urgency.

“Raon-nim…”

“Yes?”

“You are strong, smart, great and mighty, always remember that.”

You weakly stroked Raon’s back, trying to comfort him in advance for the things about to come.

“Young master what’s going on–”

Beacrox and Ron stopped in their tracks when they saw the condition you were in.

“Ahahaha, you guys are right on time. I think… I’m going.. To…”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence for you already fell unconscious. Your body dangerously swaying to fall off from your sitting position on the couch. Luckily, Cale was nearby and managed to catch your falling body.

Cale glanced at you, then he glanced at the open book on the table.

As usual, he couldn’t see what was written on the pages. He could only see the cover title at the front and the synopsis at the back.

But that doesn’t stop him from hating that damned book that put you in this state.

If only you haven’t read that book before coming here.

If only there wasn’t a restriction placed on you by that damned book.

If only…

“Fuck, after this war is done I’m going to try and burn that shitty book one way or another. I don’t care anymore if it’s your favourite.”

note: in case it wasn't clear, the placement of the drips signifies how fast the reader's blood was gushing out

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Two

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Language, Taunting.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.8k

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By dinner that night you had nearly drowned yourself in turbulent thoughts and discomfort. Your friends were gossiping while lounging at a table, they were gushing about all the men and woman that had arrived through out the day. Apparently in the celebrations, orgies were a common occurrence among the aristocrats and it was always a guessing game of who would be getting with who, or more importantly, who would get the golden invitations to the orgies with the most powerful people of Athens. You didn’t mind the open sexuality of Athens, it was actually a freeing thought… but you’d spent the afternoon and night in a state of hurt with a very agonized heart.

Why did it pain you so much to see Oneiros in pain? It was clear that he was hurting. Hurting and drowning himself in wine and debauchery to take his mind and being off the fact that his son had died and he’d gone through a divorce. You hated seeing him like that. You hated it so much. But you were well aware that Morpheus had gone through this phase in his life. He’d gruelingly explained it to you on a rainy afternoon after you had pestered him about his past relationships. He was your husband and you loved him so much, yet you still knew very little about his past.

He hadn’t wanted to tell you anything. Hadn’t wanted you to know about his failings in martial relations and love period. But the Endless loved you with every grain of sand he possessed and had explained the sorrows and troubles he’d gone through… minus the time proceeding his divorce. Watching the debauchery unfold in front of you, you fully understand why he hadn’t uttered a peep about his greek era. The greeks certainly knew their way around bodily delights.

“Elpis?” You blinked and glanced at Merope, she and the other girls were looking at you with concerned looks. They had noticed a change in you since earlier, had barely touched food or drink and spent an awful lot of time sitting with a faraway look within your eyes. “You’ve been rather demure since luncheon, is all well?” It wasn’t like you could just unload all your troubles on the three women, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Just a headache,” You informed her before unfolding yourself from your curled position and rising to your feet. You brushed out nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of your dress.  “I think I need some fresh air and to cool down.” Your fingers tugged at your clothes, undoing several pins that kept fabric folded against your body in a decorative way. The silken fabric loosened and draped until it was just barely held together on your body. Now you didn’t feel so smothered. “I’ll be out for a walk, don’t let me keep you up waiting.”

It was clear that they weren’t convinced by your words as you strode past them with your peplum fluttering behind you. It was a hot night in Athens, but the breeze from the Aegean Sea cooled you down as you took a garden path that led straight to the beautiful water. Standing at the waters edge, you crouched down and brushed your fingers through the slightly warm water. This wouldn’t last forever, surely, your Morpheus was probably ripping through realms and universes trying to find you… you just had to deal with his past self until you went home.

Which you didn’t know when that would happen.

And you didn’t like the idea of leaving this Morpheus in pain.

But could you actually do anything about that?

You didn’t exactly have a handbook on what to do when you time traveled.

Destiny will be up your ass if you screwed this up…

Then again maybe this was supposed to happen?

You growled and dropped your face into your hand with a more than exaggerated groan. You didn’t sign up for this time travel bull shit when you married Morpheus! All you had to be, according to Morpheus and just about everyone else in the realm, was his wife. Of course you wanted to be active in the realm and help out the denizens, dreams, and nightmares as their queen, but no one held you to duty.Just as you sighed and dragged your fingers down your face, pulling your eyelids as you went, you felt a tingle in your being and a shiver run up your spine. You rose to your feet and turned around.

Ah.

High above on one of the balconies overseeing the Aegean Sea, lounged Oneiros in all his glory. His tunic was half on his body, revealing a great expanse of his star sculpted physique. His hair was ruffled since you had last seen him. Right. Lucienne reluctantly mentioned that Morpheus had a few hoe eras. This was one of them. Even though he wasn’t your Morpheus, you could still feel his inherent desire and lust. It was certainly directed at you since you had met eyes with him. That both scared and excited you.

“Elpis?” Kynna’s sweet voice broke your stare down with Oneiros. Jarred from holding the lustful gaze of Oneiros, you blinked rapidly. “What are you doing outside all alone? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Kynna!” You softly exclaimed, striding up to the girl and plucking her from the ground. What on earth was she doing out of be? There were half naked adults everywhere! “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“You’re not in bed,” The little girl pointed out like it would make a difference, making your eyebrow pop up. The utter cheek!

“That’s because I was out for a walk, come little one, back to bed, you have a great many activities to do tomorrow.” Continuing to carry Kynna, you entered the large stone building and walked towards her families wing. Your heart throbbed in your chest the entire way to her room.

You sat in your seat stiff as a bored. It was another extravagant luncheon hosted by one of the noble families. You hadn’t wanted to accept the invitation, you weren’t versed in the politics of Athens and certainly didn’t know anyone other than your three knew friends. The only plus side to attending was the delicious food served. You’d spent a lot of time snacking on olives while partaking in wine, and it was nice to eat a proper grecian meal.

Under normal circumstances, the men would eat separately from the woman, but since it was Panathenaia, an exception was made so everyone could mingle and celebrate in shared fashion. As uncomfortable as you were with the flirting and innuendos, you did find yourself laughing at a few crude jokes and well entertained by the conversations you found yourself drawn into.

The men and woman of Ancient Greece were beautiful, impossibly so, but they were also so easy to get along with and forget that you didn’t even belong in this era! Several times you found yourself falling into a place of comfort you should not entertain! So every time a conversation got a little too intimate you pulled back. But that being said, you carried small talk and day to day conversation quite well.

At least until a certain someone arrived.

Your attention was drawn to Oneiros like a moth to a flame. You couldn’t help it. Not when he was the love of your life and the very being you promised to spend the rest of eternity together. Not when you had allowed the anthropomorphic being to place a physical part of his Endless being within your own so that you may spend every moment he had left in time with him.

But he wasn’t yours. At least not yet. That didn’t stop the smoldering looks he sent your way and it certainly didn’t stop the fire that burned deep in your belly until you squirmed in your seat. Gods damn that being for being your kryptonite! Wanting payback for what he was causing you, you began eating grapes. One by one. Allowing your fingers to linger on your lips while you held his gaze.

 It was a rather torturous sight to see.

The purple peplum you had on, held in place by golden pins and a decorative belt that wrapped around your waist. The fabric was just as light as all the other peplums you’d ben dressed in, but at the moment you felt like it weighed a tonne. Feeling suffocated by your feelings, the heavy gaze of Oneiros that seemed to follow you everywhere, and the general sultry atmosphere that enveloped the commons, you had slipped to the gardens for an afternoon stroll. Even with the fresh air you were still struggling to control your emotions.

“I just want to go home,” You softly murmured to yourself, allowing your hand to brush over several hibiscus flowers. “But I can’t even have that. No, someone just wants to fuck with me and my heart by forcing me to live through one of my husbands darkest times.” Sighing, you continued running your fingers over flowers and leaves. Lifting your eyes to the skies, you willed time to go by faster, wishing for the relieving darkness that harkened a sleep that blocked out the visceral agony you felt.

Before you had married Morpheus, you used to be so excited about falling asleep at night. You practically lived two lives, one on earth during the day, and second, more meaningful one in the Dreaming at night. You knew almost all of the denizens of the Dreaming before you had become romantically involved with Morpheus, so your nights had literally been a second life. But then the Endless had finally decided to make his intentions clear with you.

You had been swept off your feet by a blanket of stars Morpheus had weaved himself and courted like a spoiled regency debutant. It had been so extravagant that you had nearly told Morpheus that he only needed to get you flowers and talk to you regularly… but you had quickly found that bestowing you with gifts and words of affection were his love language. He wanted to shower you with gifts. He wanted to bespoke words of adoration to you. You were his universe. He was the being you never knew you needed. Together you felt complete.

Sniffing while your eyes burned, you hastily wiped at your eyes and nose lest you start balling in the middle of the garden and cause an upset. Why were you doing this to yourself? You knew you were playing with fire. Finding yourself and stopping the threatening onslaught of burning hit tears, you cleared your throat and looked up at the flowering pink shrub you found yourself in front of.

Oleander.

Smelling the fragrant blooms, you reached up to take one of the pretty blooms. It was just out of reach, but if you stretched on your tippy toes, you could probably reach it. So you stretched upwards, pressing close to the plant. Your fingers brushed the soft petal, but you couldn’t get a good grasp that wouldn’t tear the delicate bloom apart. In your struggle, you hadn’t noticed his approach and jerked in place when fabric bushed against your back as a pale hand reached over your head and effortlessly plucked the bloom for you.

Freezing in place as your breath caught in your chest, you clutched your hands to your chest. It wasn’t like you could ignore him now. Slowly turning your head, your eye met vibrant blue and you had to force yourself to stay still. Gods all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around his body and never let go! Oneiros twirled the bloom between his lithe fingers, all the while maintaining his intense gaze with yours.

You fascinated him, hypnotized him with your eyes, demanded his heart and passion with but a glance. Yet you never drew close enough to indulge. It was maddening, for Oneiros wanted no other but you. You’d drown out the sharp sting of loss he felt. He was sure of it. But something kept pulling you away the moment he was sure you’d finally break. The Endless offered the plucked flower to you, waiting for you to either accept or refuse it. Given your rather flighty disposition, he half expected you to flee the garden.

But you didn’t.

No. Oneiros was surprised when one of your slightly trembling hands reached to accept the flower. Your eyes were trained on the bloom, and you made sure not to touch him… but your silence spoke a million things.

It was getting harder and harder to avoid interacting with Oneiros. You didn’t know if it was because you naturally gravitated towards him, or if it was because he clearly wanted you. Nothing you did rid you of the pain you felt from him. So you had gone to the baths to try and soak out the stress you felt. It was nearing midnight, so most of the nobles were either indulging in bodily delights, drinking, or sleeping off the alcohol. That meant you could enjoy the public bath house in privacy.

So you slowly made your way into the steamy room and carefully unwound the belt around your waist. Then your fingers plucked the pins from your shoulders and you carefully folded the silk cloth that hung around your body. The steaming water looked inviting as you stepped down into one of the pools, and you sighed at the nostalgia that filled your mind. The bath house pools were much like the large bath you had in the Dreaming, and made memories of relaxing in it cradled within Morpheus’ arms as he told you stories of past dreams, surface within your mind.

You wanted to go home so bad.

“Are tonights revelries not to your appetite?” You jerked in place at the sound of his voice, your head snapping around to see Oneiros lounging in a corner of the bath. Shit. Shit. Shit. It took everything you had not to stare at his naked body leisurely sprawled across the sitting ledge without care. His black messy curls made your fingers twitch for they ached to run through them. Oh, it wasn’t just those curls either, you wanted run your fingers along his skin, trace his muscles, adore the curves and planes upon his otherworldly body, kiss him until you were forced to take a breath… It took you a solid minute to find the courage to reply.

“I do not usually partake in such festivities, my lord,” You replied, a slight tremble in your words. A black eyebrow arched and you forced your gaze to the carved statues of spites mounted at the end of the room. “I am more reserved with my affections.”

“But not entirely opposed as your skin paints a different story,” Oneiros pointed out, his eyes lingering on the faded marks of someones apparent love. Oh yes, someone had the pleasure of indulging in your body. Someone worshipped you greatly and with complete devotion. The marks were subtle, but intentional. Territorial even. The Endless watched as you flushed beneath his scrutiny, and took great enjoyment in knowing that he did have an effect on you. “Who would leave a creature as lovely and delicate as you, by yourself during such festivities?”

“He’s away on business and I do not seek to control him,” You told him, carefully unfolding yourself from your tight ball. Instantly the Endless was drinking in the view of your gorgeous curves and faintly loved skin. He wanted to devour you. You wanted him to stop hurting. So you rose to your feet in the water and slowly sloshed over to him. “Why are you here, my lord?”

Clearly he didn’t expect you to ask him such a question, but nonetheless he humored you after taking a sip of his wine and eyeing your goddess like body. Soft and begging for worship. One he would surely get lost in should the chance arise.

“I am enjoying the festivities, the same as you,” You nearly snorted and rolled your eyes. He may not be your Morpheus, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t pick up when he was lying. You lifted your chin.

“No, you are not,” Now that was a bold statement to say directly to his face, and you could see his eyes darken.

“You dare think to know my intentions better than I?” He questioned back, eyes searching yours to see how far you would push his patience. Your lips were distracting, after your grape stunt he had wanted nothing but to devour them to see if they were indeed as soft and inviting as they looked… as was the rest of your glorious body. Tender curves begging to be caressed, clear skin aching be marked once more, lips that called to be tamed…

“I know enough to wonder why you are here, rather than with the men and women desperately throwing themselves at you.” You informed him before turning to the side and moving back towards your folded dress. You left the bathhouse and a ravenous Endless behind, your heart beating fast in your chest.

Date Published: 1/22/24

Last Edit: 1/22/24

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[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

Mad Queen Misogyny

All the mad queen Dany takes, from both D&D and the audience, are just plain misogyny. They are literally just repeats of common misogynistic ideas. D&D have given a few reasons for why they wrote the mad queen ending for Dany, and all of them are the same old misogynistic tropes of fantasy and mythology.

The Mad Queen:

I'm going to start this off by going into how the mad queen trope itself is rooted in misogyny. This is one of the oldest tropes in fantasy/fairytales. Whether it's Snow White's evil step mother or the Queen of Hearts, literature is riddled with mad queens.

The idea of the mad queen is informed by the desires of men to keep women out of power. Yes there are historical women who were horrible people and unstable when in power. However, those examples are not enough to justify the amount of times the trope occurs, especially since some of the examples occur after many stories have already been written (ie, Mary I and medieval fairytales). These fictional women were written as cautionary tales of what happens when a woman is placed in power.

By writing the mad queen Dany arc in GOT, D&D are perpetuating an old trope rather than "subverting" anything as they claim. The most powerful woman in the world turning out to be a war mongering and mass murdering tyrant isn't subversive in any way. The only reason it was surprising was because it came out of nowhere narratively.

ASOIAF fans who constantly try to justify this turn for Dany's book character are attempting to do the same thing D&D did. They want to employ an ancient trope to justify their dislike for her in name of being "subversive".

The Violent Woman:

A trope that stretches back all the way to the Ancient Greeks is that of the angry, homicidal woman in power. From Hera to Medea, the myths are full of women who commit atrocities simply because of anger. This trope isn't just about avenging a slight or retribution on the guilty; it's about a woman taking out her anger on innocent parties.

Daenerys has fallen into the role of the avenger many times throughout both the show and and book. She killed Mirri Maz Duur for the murder of her son and husband. She killed the Undying for attempting to trap/kill her. She kills Kraznys mo Nakloz and many other slavers for the atrocities they commit constantly on the people they enslaved.

In the show, she imprisoned Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Doreah in a vault for killing Irri and helping the warlocks steal her children. She killed the Khals who threatened to rape her. She kills the Tarleys for rebelling against the Tyrells, thus getting them killed, and refusing to bend the knee.

Every time Dany killed up until season eight, it was purely because those she killed harmed her or her allies/children. That is why none of her past kills justify her burning KL. The people of KL did nothing to her; it's not an established part of her character to harm innocents out of anger. She even outright condemns the killing of innocents in earlier seasons.

The inconsistencies show how D&D chose to blatantly ignore the complexities of Dany's character in favor of a sexist trope. They perpetuated the idea that a woman in power who is angered will ultimately commit injustice and atrocities.

Dany antis in the ASOIAF fandom are no different from D&D. A common argument used by Dany and Targaryen antis is that they are bound to be corrupt and tyrannical because they have dragons. Essentially saying that Dany was doomed to be the villain the moment she hatched her children.

They point to her dragons' existence and her conquest in Essos as reasons for her "villain arc", despite the fact that none of her actions reflect the things they claim. Dany is simply being condemned for being a woman with power; it's expected of her to be a tyrant for those reasons alone.

The Woman Scorned:

This reasoning given by D&D in a behind the episode interview is probably the excuse that I hate the most. They said that one of the reasons for Dany's descent into madness was because Jon Snow refused to kiss her back once he found out they were aunt and nephew. This is an insanely misogynistic trope.

Used time and again by writers (mostly male), this trope is about a woman who becomes an antagonist due to rejection, unrequited love, or betrayal from a lover. In the case of Dany and GOT, it's Jon refusing to continue their romantic relationship.

For some reason, this is seen as a breaking point for Dany. A woman who has endured poverty, homelessness, sexual slavery, a traumatic miscarriage and death of a spouse/protector, and the stresses of war was broken by a man refusing to kiss her. Doesn't that sound fucking stupid? Well that's because it is.

Dany has never felt entitled to people's love (with the exception of shitty writing from D&D) let alone someone's sexual/romantic reciprocation. It's out of character and flat out insulting to women to believe that is enough to make Dany into a mass murdering tyrant.

Once again, there are members of the fandom who espouse this reasoning into their own theories and metas. Jonsas especially are guilty of this; some claiming that Jon's rejection of Dany in favor of Sansa will be a catalyst for the "mad queen".

An offshoot of this thinking, is the idea that Dany went/will go mad because she was rejected by the realm.

In the show, the Northmen are dismissive or outright hostile to Dany when she arrives (even after she saves them). Due to this rejection by the Westerosi people, Dany decides "let it be fear" and chooses to burn KL to the ground.

Once again, this idea isn't grounded in her past actions at all. Dany has always known she needs to earn people's love and respect as a ruler, why should she change her mind the moment she steps onto Westerosi soil? The answer is simple: she's a woman, so she can't possibly be able to deal with rejection.

Fans theorize constantly that Dany is going to go mad and destroy KL and Westeros because the people will definitely reject her in favor of Young Griff/Jon Snow/any other king they can think of. This theory is simply clinging to misogynistic ideas about women and it's disgusting in every iteration (it also dismisses the fact that there are people in Westeros excited about the idea of Dany and her dragons in the books but that's a different post).

The Woman Bereft:

This argument is probably the least outright in its misogyny. The idea that a woman who has lost everything will lose her mind isn't a new one and it can be played in a non-sexist way. However, GOT played it completely in the sexist roots of the trope.

Throughout seasons seven and eight, Dany loses basically everything. All but one of her children, her closest advisor and best friend Missandei, Ser Jorah, a massive chunk of her army, her other advisors, most of her allies, and is rejected by Westeros and Jon. That's a lot of loss to endure.

However, Dany has endured severe loss before and never reacted by murdering a city full of innocents. Again, this decision and descent isn't backed up by anything else in her storyline.

The sexism of this idea, that loss produces mad women, is that it's rarely applied to men in the same situations. For example: Tyrion lost everything he cared about, yet he's never written by D&D to be in danger of becoming a mass murderer. He even outright says he wishes he'd poisoned the whole court, but is never portrayed as a mad man by D&D or fans.

Dany is expected to go insane after enduring loss because she's a woman. She's perceived as being fundamentally weaker, mentally as well as physically, so she must be more vulnerable to madness than the male characters.

The Foreign Seductress:

The idea of the foreign seductress is a xenophobic and racist stereotype. For Dany, her antis use the instances of her exercising sexual autonomy and her life in Essos as fodder for this disparaging trope.

In the books and the show, Dany pursues sexual and romantic relationships outside of marriage. This is something that doesn't fall in line with the medieval setting of the world. In Westeros and Essos, it's common for men to do that, but not women, due to systematic misogyny. Because of this, Dany's antis often feel free to argue that because she doesn't act "pure", she is wrong and evil. Dany's bound to become a villain because she isn't a chaste and "good" woman.

In the same way, Dany is painted as wrong for wanting to take her family's throne purely because she wasn't raised in Westeros. She's perceived as a foreign invader by both her antis and D&D.

D&D wrote many scenes of outright xenophobia from the Northmen, Sansa, and Arya towards Dany and her forces without ever condemning those ideas. In fact, they justify them by writing the mad queen ending. The fact that Dany isn't "one of them" is used as an excuse for her descent.

Dany antis also employ this rhetoric, especially when people compare Dany's conquest for the IT to the Starks' desire to retake Winterfell. It's good for the Starks to want to retake their throne because they were raised in Winterfell, but Dany has no right to her ancestral home because she wasn't raised in Westeros.

However, this idea is never applied to Young Griff, who was also not raised in Westeros. Despite this, people will talk about how excited they are for his story and how sad it is that he's totally going to be murdered by his evil aunt. Once again a double standard is applied to Dany.

All this is because Dany is a woman who refuses to conform to patriarchal standards and was raised in a foreign country.

Never Good Enough:

Dany antis and D&D thrive on applying a different set of standards to Dany than other characters. They do this an a way that's reminiscent of the double standards set for women even today.

No matter what Dany does, it's never good enough for them. She dealt with Viserys and his death in the wrong way. She didn't protect her people in the right way. She tried to abolish slavery in the wrong way. She saved the goddamn world wrong. Like nothing Dany does is right in their eyes.

In their minds, Dany should've died in AGOT being a perfectly passive woman. She refused to submit to those (men) around her, and for that they punish her.

She's wrong for fighting the slavers, she's wrong for trying to avenge murdered children, she's evil for killing to protect herself. D&D used each of her actions throughout the show that they seemed too aggressive as justification for what they wrote. Dany's antis do the exact same thing in their theories.

The mad queen Dany theory is rooted completely in misogyny. It has no true justification in the narrative and every argument conjured up is just as sexist as the trope they want to perpetuate.

[antiquarianfics]

Timeless

Reader wonders how their life might have looked different in 1944, but they know they still would have loved Bucky Barnes.

Author's Note: I have not written fanfiction in years, merely lurking and reading. However, "Timeless" (Taylor's Version) (From the Vault) just screams Bucky x Reader to me. I had to come back. So, enjoy. :) Genre: Fluff Pairing: Bucky Barnes x G!N Reader WC: 725 words

---

"What was it like?" You spoke hesitantly, choosing your words carefully as you break the comfortable silence where you and Bucky had been quietly looking at the antiques and knickknacks around the small store.

"What was what like?" Bucky looks down at you, eyebrow raised.

You nudge him with your shoulder.

"Hush, I was getting there," you laugh. "What was it like in the '40s?"

Bucky had told you plenty about his life both pre and post Winter Soldier; however, you still felt like asking again.

Bucky smiled softly, looking up and around the room. "It was hectic. We had just entered the war and everyone was panicking. I remember Ma and Becca were practically begging me not to enlist." He pauses, gathering his thoughts. His mother and sister were hard for him to talk about sometimes, so you grab his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"It was funny, though. After enlisting, I felt like I was on top of the world. I was proud to join, y'know? Think Ma and Becca were proud of me, too. Just scared."

"Understandable," you agree. You bite your lip, thinking. "Did enlisting get you a girlfriend?"

Bucky blows out air in a stifled laugh. "No, but it didn't hurt my game," he teases.

You roll your eyes before settling on an old photograph in a catch-all sort of box labeled "Photographs: 25¢ each." The photo was lying neatly on top of the others, practically calling you toward it like a siren to a sailor. You begin moving towards it, letting Bucky's hand fall out of your grasp as you go to pick it up.

"Why do you ask?" Bucky questions, coming up to stand behind you at the photo box. He gently slides his arms around your body, hugging you from behind, gazing at the photograph over your shoulder.

You hum. "I don't know; I guess all this old stuff just got me thinking."

Bucky stays silent, letting you pull your thoughts together.

"You think this would've been us?" You ask.

The photo you were drawn to was of a '30s couple smiling and laughing on the porch of their first home. You didn't know who these people were, obviously, but you recognized them as you and Bucky. It was a strange feeling, and you hoped Bucky would understand it, too.

"Oh, for sure. I woulda been crazy about you back then," Bucky smiles, imagining you in his time. "You in victory rolls, the long skirts, out dancing? God, you know I would've been talking you up."

You giggle, feeling flustered. "I would've married you, bought you a house, given you kids, whatever you wanted," he continues. "I would've had the prettiest person in all of space and time sending me off to war."

You frown slightly. "You know, for people who fight bad guys and aliens on a regular basis, I really don't like the idea of sending you off to war. It's too dangerous. You might fall off a train, or something."

Bucky laughs, poking you in the side. "Come on, now."

"No, seriously. I hate it. I pray every night that you'll come back unscathed when you go on missions with Sam, and... I just can't imagine having to rely on letters or not being able to just go with you," you take a breath, grounding yourself. You realize you're working yourself up.

"I would have, though."

"Would've what?"

"Relied on the letters. I would've read them every night, and write you just as much. Telling you not to be stupid and not die. I would've sat by the mailbox everyday just to get your letters and know you're alright."

Bucky grins. "I would've come back. For you."

"If you could've just gone back, don't you think you would have?"

"Nah," Bucky dismisses the thought. "If I hadn't fallen off that train, I'd be ancient or dead right now and I wouldn't have gotten to love you."

You set the photo back down in the box before turning around in Bucky's arms. You slide your arms around his neck and he lets his fall to your waist.

"I'm serious," he says when the two of you make eye contact. "What we got, Doll? It's timeless. I was gonna end up in your arms one way or another."

You lean up and kiss him.

[g1rld1ary]

lamest place in the world - trevor spengler x reader

wc: 835

cw: smoking, drinking, swearing kissing, trevor and r are implied slightly aged up because i want them to be but has no impact on plot, please don't get in the car with a boy you've just met xx

Summerville, despite the name's associations, was the lamest place in the world. Certainly not the endless summer paradise that was suggested on the tin. There wasn't much to do over the summer except go to work, sleep, or fuck around in one of the many dumb fields around. It wasn't even a farming town anymore, why were there still so many goddamn fields?

You were in Walmart, preparing for a quiet night in. A pint of ice cream, a face mask, some new nail polish; you were all set.

"No way, I, um, love that stuff," A voice said from next to you. You chanced a glance at the boy next to you, towering over the shelf and all gangly limbs.

"You love nail polish?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy cringed, caught in his own ruse and exposed by his obviously untouched nails.

"I just mean, uh--"

"You just wanted a reason to talk to me?" The boy nodded, seemingly resigned to his awful failure. To his surprise, you introduced yourself instead. You figured he was new to the town, and couldn't be any worse than the people you already knew. "What are you doing tonight?"

An hour later Trevor was in your car, driving you both out to the outskirts of town. He'd begged you to let him drive, apparently he'd never been allowed or something where he lived, and you figured your ancient piece-of-shit car could handle one more reckless driver.

You turned the speaker all the way up, blasting whatever tape you'd last put into it. You hung out the passenger window, singing along as Trevor raced down the empty dirt roads.

The car was parked in the middle of another field. Far off in the distance, you could see a few artificial lights, but other than that you were alone.

"Why'd you come to Summerville?" You asked Trevor once you'd shifted positions so you were both on the hood of your car, staring up at the dark night sky.

"My mom's broke," He replied, "We got evicted from our apartment and all we've got left is that stupid horror movie house and a bunch of old dusty shit inside."

"Shit," You agreed, coming up with an idea, "You want one?" You offered him a cigarette from the packet inside your jacket.

"I, uh, haven't smoked before," He said sheepishly.

"Neither have I. Cigarettes are stupid hard to come by here, they're only sold at one place and he's tough on kids. These're my brothers from college." You brandished a lighter, hot pink that you assured your mom was just for candles, and got to work.

You counted down together, inhaling in sync. You both choked out coughs and splutters, laughing at each other's embarrassing moments. You stumbled through the process, giving each other advice on how to do it properly despite both of you making it up on the spot.

You figured it out soon enough, and fell into a peaceful quiet, listening to the cicadas and rustling grass.

"Do you hate it here?" Trevor asked to break the silence and you looked at him, considering the question.

"I used to a lot more, I think. I used to be so fucking angry that this was the lot I was given. I've grown up a lot now, make my own fun, and it's not so bad anymore. Now I only hate it every other day," You joked, uncomfortable with the serious conversation. Thankfully Trevor laughed and you were back to more playful conversation.

You'd been out there for hours, burning through a few cigarettes and whatever booze you had stashed in the trunk.

"It's not funny, Trev, we were in deep shit--"

"What'd you call me?"

"Trev? Is that not alright--"

"No, no I liked it. Really liked it." You look over at him, were you always this close? You could feel his breath on your face, hot even in the summer air.

You think you were the one to kiss him first, but it honestly could've been either of you. Something in the air between you was electric, pushing you towards the boy you'd only just met.

The kiss was kind of awkward at first, both of you craning your necks from your position on your backs. Trevor was the one to move, pulling himself on top of you and framing your face with his forearms. He tasted like a bizarre mix of cigarettes and beer but it didn't repel you, rather encouraging you to open your mouth for him, the two of you getting even closer. You explored his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle in his curls, pulling on them slightly and giggling into his open mouth when he moaned.

Maybe Summerville wasn't all boring, and you were pretty sure you'd just sorted out your summer plans.