#but it's kind of accurate in that regard so at least there's that

[serpentae]

watching messiah on netflix. the description says it's about a man people call the messiah and follow out of damascus into the desert which catches the attention of the cia, and I was like, hmm, let's try it. but no it turns out the story is that he's actually jesus and he's returned to palestine and now there's another intifada!! it's very very interesting and I can't believe no one is talking about this show

[puckleberryfinnie]

What Is This Feeling?

summary: you're the one thing he can't have, but he'll do anything to get you anyway, fem!reader x emperor geta

notes: for (this) request, thank you so much for sending that in again, love you for that! this definitely will not be history or character accurate, but I know most of you are just here for the vibes so here's this for you <3 if anyone wants more of him, you're more than welcome to send something in, make sure to take a look at my holiday event too!

part two is finally here! yippee!

Geta had everything he could ever want- food, clothing, women. Many women. All the divine things of the world were his, and it pleased him to know as such. All of Rome was at his beck and call.

Now, despite his interest in expanding empires to new locations, he'd never found himself interested in the contents of these areas. It seemed illogical, when he had everything he wanted and much, much more already.

As the power of Rome grew, however, the time came for a delegation to be put into place. It would be built in order to generate alliances among other strong empires, much like their own. It wasn't something of much interest of Geta- he'd have to give them an audience at some point, he'd imagined, but any might greater than his own was simply unimaginable in his mind.

It wasn't surprising for the people of your empire to know you'd be headed off along with the rest of the delegation sent to Rome. They knew your adventurous nature, and with your three older brothers limiting your chance of leading one day, there was no true reason for you not to be sent off, if not just for the year you'd be gone. Your father, as emperor, was weary, of course.

"Venturing into harsher lands might calm your restless nature, which is something that must happen as you become an important figure to your people, dear. Besides, you'll be protected under the royal court of Rome in any regard, to be sure."

The trip had been troublesome, despite the amenities offered for a trip of so many noble people. It was truly its length that made it quite so unbearable, being over a week of slow travelling. Upon entering into your destination, however, your opinions on the matter immediately had been washed away by incoming fascination. Your empire had been fantastic in its own ways, of course, but this went beyond every notion of an idea you'd had for it. The streets were filled with excitement, and the people of the streets were beyond respectful, bowing their heads as you passed them.

Your fascination only grew as you came closer to the center of the land. There were buildings, each taller than the last and adorned with the most extraordinary pieces of decoration. Large, open areas housed groups of patricians, you were sure, wearing extravagant clothing that draped over their bodies perfectly. Their jewelry was even more extravagant, to be sure, shiny accessories adorning every finger and neck.

It's not that you weren't used to such lavishness, but your people had been less... open about it, in many regards. It was unlikely to find open rooms with expensive items on display as they had here. It's no matter, though. You'd fit in, to be sure. Your empire had sent you in their finest garments, matching these people's clothing perfectly fine.

The audience with this neighboring empire had been something of great discussion among the court of Rome. With the newest news coming in of the emperor's daughter visiting, the excitement only grew. There were stories, of course, of her people favoring her, for her beauty and kindness was a blessing for them. It intrigued Geta, in some regards. He'd expected old men and boring meetings discussing topics that he was not the least bit interested in. But a woman? He was indefinitely more interested in that.

Him and his brother were leaning lazily against their large thrones, women and men strew across them, vying for their attention. As your party entered, they both stayed in their position, watching disinterestedly, nodding as the people continued to enter.

It was customary that you entered last, in all your glory. You entered gracefully, all heads turned towards you, all in awe of your divine nature. Geta wasn't any exception as he immediately sat up straighter, trying to get a better look at you. As you stopped in front of them, dipping your head in respect, he continued to lean closer, eyes wide as they went over your features carefully.

"Thank you for your gracious invitation, emperors."

As your eyes rose to greet the twins, they immediately met Geta's. His own pair were watching your every movement, a interested glint in them unlike ever you'd ever seen in the eyes of a man. It caught you, making you freeze under his gaze. He slowly pushed off whoever had been on him, getting up as he slowly made his way towards you.

"The pleasure is all our own. I hope you know we've been anxiously awaiting you, my lady."

His eyebrows rose, anticipating your reaction. When you simply smiled, bowing your head once again in recognition before being carted away by your supervisors, he was beyond surprised. Any normal woman would've been flattered and flushing at his words, but you'd walked away with that calming nature still radiating.

His brother wasn't paying much attention, but that wasn't too much of surprise as Geta turned towards him, watching Caracalla place some grapes in his mouth as he looked off to the side. He turned back to your retreating form once more, shouting at you in order to get your attention.

"I hope you enjoy your stay, my lady. I'll be sure to call on you later."

You simply smiled once again, letting out a small laugh. "I'd appreciate that, Emperor. Thank you." You along with the rest of your party exited after a moment, exhausted after your long trip and in need of rest.

After you were long gone, likely softly sleeping in one of their more extravagant guest rooms, as Geta had imagined, he was approached by one of his many advisors, named Claudius. Claudius was one of the more brave council members, who would speak out against the emperors for the benefit of Rome. It was a surprise that his head hadn't been chopped off yet.

"I only want the best for your empire, Your Grace, and with such I must make it known that interacting with the daughter of such a powerful ruler has its risks. If word got out to the Emperor that you were treating her as you would with a common woman, it surely would bring their strong empire's wrath down unto our sacred land."

"You must have no faith in the glory of Rome, Claudius. Any attack on their part would be stopped immediately, you should know this."

"Since we've last spoken their forces have doubled in size, Your Grace. Do what you will, but we need to make sure this alliance goes as it's supposed to."

He was effectively being told 'no,' and he did not enjoy it at all. Everything in his life had been handed to him on a silver platter, so it went against his nature to not take what he wanted- in this case, that being you. His hands were clenched as he walked through the hallways, headed to his sleeping chambers.

You'd been headed back from your light sleep, hoping to find some sort of entertainment when a body had rammed at you at full speed, knocking you to the ground. There was the emperor, looking angrily at the figure underneath him. This angry look slowly faded as he realized it was you, turning into a devilish smile as he slowly pulled himself up, his hands resting on either side of your head.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, my lady. How have you found your stay so far?" He was vibrating with a sort of enticing energy, almost as though he was purring. It was rather strange, but you couldn't bring yourself to move, frozen once again in his gaze.

"Oh- well, this place is magnificent, Your Grace. It's truly wonderful to be here."

"Mm.. well I'm very glad you decided to come, you've made all this alliance work much more... interesting." He finally pulled himself off you, keeping his eyes glued to yours as he reached for your hand to pull you up with him in a sudden movement. "And you must call me Geta, princess." His hand held onto yours, subtly moving a thumb across its surface.

"Of course Y- Geta. And you shall call me by mine, yes?" Your calm nature had been broken, just as he'd hoped it would. His smile only grew at your flustered state.

"If that's what you'd like I'll faithfully oblige, though I do think Princess suits you much better. I'd do anything you asked of me, though, darling." With that he brought your hand to his face, keeping eye contact as he left a kiss on its back side.

To Hell with Rome. He got what he wanted, and he wanted you.

woah ok so I think this is the most I've every written, hopefully it was still a bit interesting for you guys! thank you so much for reading, and let me know if you want more stuff from him or anyone else in Gladiator (the obsession is crazy right noww) (also, wicked themed title to feed into another obsession don’t mind me)

if you guys want any more of this one, please let me know, I can even create a tag list if that interests anyone <3

love ya!!

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

[calmcoldevening]

Slashers x reader who can control shadows

@klerns-birdie

Thomas Hewitt

• Thomas loved you with all his heart and cared about you, but to be honest, sometimes he was really scared of your ability to control shadows. It's not that he was afraid of you, no, he was just very worried about you.

• Other family members, in particular Hoyt, were quite delighted to learn about this ability of yours. Hoyt was glad that the chance of catching potential meat increased by a whopping 200%.

• Whenever you transform into your shadow self, Tommy is haunted by the fear that you won't come back. At such moments, it was as if an animal thirst for blood and violence really woke up in you, not that Thomas encouraged it. But he understood that all this was to protect the family, and the family always comes first.

• Thomas is extremely fond of physical contact with you. Because of your ability to control shadows, sometimes it seems that your skin is as cold as ice or grave earth, so he likes to squeeze your palms in his big ones and keep you warm.

• Thomas is a big boy, very big and big. Sometimes it's even embarrassing to watch when the victim manages to fool him and simply run away from home. It's at times like this that you show up. Such a sweet and fragile girl instantly turns into a cold-blooded killer with a crazy smile sparkling in the dark. Your translucent body gracefully moves softly and smoothly around the unsuspecting victim, and your shadows wrap cold tentacles around the body of the poor victim. You act quickly and accurately, and Thomas can only watch from afar as lingonberry drops of blood cover your dark body.

• After your little 'hunts', you turn back into your 'I' and smile, gently brushing the blood off your clothes. Thomas's heart swells with warmth from your sudden change of emotions. The way you tenderly examine him for wounds and tell him that everything is fine. Your shadows gently glide over his skin, causing goosebumps. Like the touch of a wet tongue, they calmed and brought a sense of comfort, because Thomas knew for sure that everything was under control.

Michael Myers

• Your abilities definitely arouse his genuine interest. He had spent his entire life in a hospital, so he could not even imagine that such a thing really existed.

• He will watch you and your shadows like a curious little child, but he will never admit this to you or ask you to show him anything at his request. In this regard, he is quite closed and does not know how to fully express his feelings.

• You and Michael have some kind of unspoken games like hide-and-seek or catch-up. There's something hot about him knowing that you're always watching him from the shadows. To know that you are watching his every move, every murder and stabbing, causes his body to tremble, and his breathing under the mask becomes rapid and moist. And he gladly accepts this challenge and looks for you in this dirty darkness, hoping at least this time to win this game of cat and mouse.

• Sometimes Michael gets so carried away with you that he forgets about the victim in front of him. The unfortunate man is trying to escape, but he does not even suspect your presence. You easily wrap your shadowy arm around the fragile throat and squeeze it to a nasty bone crunch. Michael lowers the bloody knife and listlessly watches the scene unfold in front of him, unable to contain a slight smile.

• After the murder, you slowly come out of you, your body turns back into its usual self, small droplets of blood flow down your face when the victim coughed up blood a little. You approach Michael and freely take him by the elbow, leading him towards the house through the deserted streets of the city at night. As if you were the most ordinary couple who had never done anything wrong. Michael feels your shadow wrapping around his waist, and it brings a sense of comfort.

• Michael is terribly fond of your coolness and cruelty with which you kill victims. Like a crow, shamelessly pecking out the eyes of sinners hanging on crosses. Sweet and dangerous at the same time. A wonderful combination, warming Michael's blood up.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo loves you madly. But this does not mean that he will talk about it directly. After all, since childhood he has had certain problems with aggression and the manifestation of his emotions and understanding of others. Therefore, sometimes he can be quite persistent and too clingy.

• He likes to make you jealous, knowing full well about your ability and cruelty. Bo can deliberately flirt with another tourist just to see how later your shadows will close around her delicate neck and tear the unfortunate girl into pieces of meat. This bloody show causes a pleasant shiver in his body. Perhaps he would also not mind if your gentle shadows and cold hands walked over his body.

• Bo really likes to realize that such an amazing and ambitious girl is his and only his. He doesn't intend to share you with anyone. If he's hanging around other girls (solely to annoy you), then he won't tolerate anyone else around you. If some new tourist gets too close to you, Bo will come up to you and put his arm around your waist, hugging you closer to him so that everyone around knows whose girl you are. It is better for this person to quickly understand his place if he does not want to die a very painful death.

• You often use your abilities just to tease him or get on his nerves. On the one hand, it annoys him, but on the other hand, he likes your attention, but he won't tell you about it. And he won't say that your cold weightless shadows on his skin cause pleasant sensations in his body. But you'll probably see it in his smug grin.

• You often go to his gas station when there are another couple of tourists on it. Seeing such a sweet, nice girl really calms future victims and weakens their vigilance. This strange man has such a sweet girl, obviously he only has a stern appearance, but a kind heart, there's nothing to worry about. Oh, how wrong they are, because it is this little sun with an innocent smile that poses a much greater danger to them. You'll be happy to hear the crunch of their bones under your tight grip a little later.

Vincent Sinclair

• Your cold shadows feel good on his scarred face. At first, he was worried about this and did not want to show you his face, but the tenderness with which you stroked his rough skin gave him a pleasant calm. He clung to those black tentacles like a little kitten craving affection. The touch was both cool and strangely warm and gentle, it sent shivers down his spine.

• At first, Vincent was afraid when you literally came out of nowhere, although in fact you just turned into a shadow and followed him almost everywhere. Over time, Vincent got used to it and even learned to find your presence in this sepulchral silence of the basement. He likes how your dark translucent body moves in the light of a dozen candles, how graceful and beautiful your body looks. He finds a strange comfort knowing that you are almost always there, watching him from the shadows. After one of the victims attacked him at the most unexpected moment and broke his mask, which led Vincent into a momentary stupor, he was incredibly grateful when you killed this scoundrel on the spot. It took him a few minutes to realize what was happening, but your gentle touch made everything bearable. Although now he will have to wipe off the blood and the basement floor, but these are just small things.

• You're like his guardian angel, his shadow protector. It's a very pleasant feeling. Vincent knows that you are always on the safe side, that you will always help him if necessary. Because of this, he tries to do everything carefully so that you enjoy the show presented to you in full.

• Sometimes you use your shadows to hide Vincent himself. It helps a lot when the victims find the basement themselves and do not suspect anything about the danger. This creates a good surprise effect. And the proximity of your body to his own gives comfort and a sweet aftertaste of the upcoming murder, because after Vincent's flesh and blood, your soothing cold hugs are always waiting.

• He likes that most of the time, because of your abilities and temperament, it is you who take the initiative and a more dominant role. Vincent loves it when you tell him what to do, when you gently touch him with your cold shadows, when you shower his skin with wet kisses, in stark contrast to the coldness of your cold hands and shadows.

• Sometimes he really worries about your cold hands because he's afraid you'll freeze. That's why he likes it when you spend time together in a warm, almost hot basement. Vincent also likes to sculpt wax with you, because the wax is warm, and it will definitely warm you up a little.

Ghostface

• Billy and Stu really like that you have such abilities. This is very suitable for their kind of activity and the image of a Ghostly face, so they almost immediately initiate you into their business. At first, of course, you don't really like it, but something inside you really wants it.

• They both like the surprise effect with which you kill an unsuspecting victim. One moment they were being chased by a tall man in a black suit and a ghost mask, and the next they were literally suffocated by cold air while your shadowy limbs grabbed the body of the unfortunate.

• After particularly successful kills, the boys clamp your still translucent shadow body between them like a sandwich. The blood from their suits is slowly soaking your clothes, but you didn't seem to care. The guys' hands slide over your body, hips and waist as they hold you closer to them. The sight of you covered in blood causes a sticky, almost animal desire inside them.

• Billy is usually a more reserved boy, while Stu relentlessly says all sorts of obscenities that you could do with your interesting ability. The idea that you can watch them while they're doing some personal stuff and they don't even know it makes them both damn hot.

• They love the horror that flashes in the eyes of the victims whenever you kill them with amazing dexterity and weariness. Guys love to take pictures of it. They have a whole photo album with similar pictures, one is better than the other. Stu even has his own collection of photos, but of a more explicit nature, which hangs above his bed in the bedroom.

[midascrow]

Lucifer x GN!Reader

A Fan of the Devil?

———————//————

synopsis: Charlie’s father is introduced to the hotels “Gardener”, and comes to find out that they’re a fallen soul from above. He’s also surprised to learn that they’re a fan of his.

warnings: religious pressure(?)

an: Part 1? If this is well received ofc. This is told from Lucifer’s perspective and therefore his view and inner thoughts regarding what’s going on around him. I also threw in the idea that he’s bad with names cuz that feels very accurate to me lol

—————————————————————-

He hadn’t expected his daughter’s friends to be so….eccentric, upon meeting them. Of course he knew Charlie’s heart bled gold for any sinner around, but he thought-, more so he hoped that she would keep somewhat better company.

Especially in the revelation of this “RaDiO DEmOn”.

Baggie- Mag- Vaggie, was alright he supposed. She loves his daughter, perhaps just as much as he does,that much he was sure. And while he was a bit disheartened by having not known of their relationship prior, he was still content and moved by the way the two leaned towards each others embrace as they spoke.

His heart ached. Just a bit.

“Are they up in their room again?”

“I think they’re in the Garden again, hon.”

Garden? The hotel had a garden?

“Oh! Oh maybe we could-“

“I don’t know…you know how they can be about us going in there..”

“Pshhhh! I’m sure it’ll be fine Vaggie! Plus remember how they always talked about meeting him??”

Meeting who? Who’s meeting who??

Was there some kind of owl in here?

“Dad!”

“Ah!”

Charlie blinked down at her father in an awkward beam, watching his red eyes dart around nervously, for a moment or two. “Who?!-“ His throat dried and swelled in embarrassment, cracking his voice as he fixed his pride with a dust off his hat. “Uhm…Yes? Char?” Nailed it. Totally. Very cool and suave of you big boss.

His daughter smiled, a crease in her brow before she clasped his arm and tugged him forward, away from the peering eyes of the others and down a long corridor. “There’s someone- Well-there’s someone who’s been dying to meet you! Yknow ever since they arrived here it’s just be non stop-“

Someone wanted to meet him? Why??

Surely they were a weirdo.

His grimace must’ve given him away, because Vaggie, who he hadnt noticed following them till the moment of, gave a small hum, to cut through her girlfriends words.

“They were a bit of a fanatic on earth apparently.”

He dead panned.

“A cultist.”

“No.”

“A satanist?”

“That’s not even what satanists do!”

“…..”

“….A banker-“

“Just-!….Wait and you’ll see.”

He fell silent at that, a frown pulled onto his pale lips as his feet dragged him towards wherever they were headed.

He was a bit stumped when they came upon two large doors, both decorated in shimmering glass mozaics, depicting two dividing scenes. An Angel; hands carefully cupped around a beautifully red apple, kneeled down towards the other mural, was depicted on the right. And on the Left, in the same position, with the same red apple, a demon.

He shifted uncomfortably.

“Wow Honey! I uh- Didn’t know this door even existed! It’s very cool, yes yes very cool- now let’s head back to the-!” He called nervously, a half witted laugh leaving his sharp tooth smile as Charlie nodded vigorously, shiney eyes aglow as she took hold of the golden handles of the ornate doors, pulling them open with a mighty huff as a golden light spilled from inside.

It was startling to say the least, fact proven by how Lucifer felt his wings practically shoot from his back in defense, feathers cascading down in time with the petals and leaves that followed an imaginary breeze through the threshold.

His ears strained to hear the quiet sound of rushing water and leaves shaking, birds chirping and insects buzzing quietly somewhere in the back.

His skin warmed. Not in the way it naturally did from hells weather, but as if the sun was beaming down on his skin for the first time in eons. Of course, he knew it was fake. But it was so close.

“Oh- shit! Charlie!” A voice barked beyond the golden glow of the garden, a figure stepping out from the shadows of a large bush, covered in leaves and flowers as they stumbled clumsily through, racing towards the door and slamming it shut, completely ignorant to the king beside their hip, who’s gaze pierced them in silent wonder.

He hadn’t felt that in a while.

“What did I tell you about coming in unannounced! You could throw off the entire ecosystem! The slightest temperature shift might make one of the flowers wilt or one of the fruits shrivel! At least warn me before-“

“Ahem.”

The sinner paused, shoulders jumping stiffly as they froze, finger pointed towards Charlie rudely from their rant before their gaze shifted to the side.

He heard the way their breath hitched, and his chest puffed slightly in pride, wings fluttering just slightly.

“Hello there.” He was being cheeky, he knew that, though his smile felt a tad too genuine, caused by the sheer awe that glimmered across the sinners face at the sight of him. “Lucifer Morningstar, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.”

He couldn’t find it in himself to dislike that look. He was the avatar of pride after all.

And a small part of him took a rather large enjoyment in the stuttering and stumbling of the sinner before him.

“Y-Your highness! Oh my gosh-“ He grinned “I wasn’t expecting your company- I would’ve dressed more- well I-“ Vaggie coughed from the side, redirecting their attention as they picked the stray foliage form their hair and clothes in a frenzy, towards the garden around them.

With a startled gasp they quickly stepped to the side, nearly tumbling in their haste as they held their arm out, presenting the garden to the king. “It’s..it’s an honor to meet you Sir.” Your voice was steadier, but still thick with anxiety that stuck like molasses to your tongue.

He watched your hand tremble, just slightly. Like his.

His wings fluttered again. A warm feeling bursting through his chest and into his eyes, giving them that shine that reflected the faux golden glow of the sun in the large green room. “The pleasures all mine, My dear. Do you mind explaining what it is you have-.…here”

His smile faltered, gaze stuck on the tree that stood tall and proud in the center of the spacious garden. Its leaves and branches stretched far, each adorned by beautiful red..apples, that hung and shimmered in the light. He expected the familiar ache of guilt to swarm his heart, but was surprised when he found himself breathless instead.

“I hope it’s..somewhat accurate. I’ve only seen recreations of course, never the real thing..” Your voice was a bit muffled in his mind.

He felt you step cautiously beside him, as he continued to gaze reverently at the scene before him. Shadows and memories danced past his eyes and through the patches of sun that decorated the floor. He swore he could hear quiet calls and whispers mix with the rustling leaves.

“You made this?” It wasn’t really a question.

Plants weren’t common in hell. Especially none such as this. They simply couldn’t grow in the rotted soil that spread across his kingdom. And there was simply no pure water to be found that could sustain them. So how-

“I might’ve take a few things before I fell.” You laughed shyly, cheeks warmed under the sun and the intense gaze of the King that snapped towards you.

Lucifer finally got a proper look at you. At your eyes and your features. Your afflictions. There was no denying you were a human soul. It was clear as day and still beat deep in your being. But..

“You were in heaven?” He gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape as he turned fully towards you, the grip on his cane tight as he scanned over the few demonic markings that lined your body, and the big golden X that flashed across your entire being. For only his eyes to see.

A virtuous soul cast out? Was that even possible? To turn away a true, virtuous soul, one of the few who had made it into heavens gate from their life on earth-

“It’s safe to say I didn’t truly agree with heavens teachings. It was too…polished.” There was an easy going smile that matched your tone, as you let your eyes wander towards the tree that wisely outshined every other plant in the garden. You continued.

“Heaven wasn’t my first choice. Frankly I didnt believe in it to begin with. But my folks were..somewhat of zealots. They wanted the best for me, I know that. But I missed…” You paused, seemingly thoughtful as Lucifer watched you with rapt attention, you both becoming ignorant to the two lovers that slipped out.

Charlie smiled softly to herself. Her dad needed this.

“I missed the free will that their religion took away from me.” Your gaze was knowing, almost wise like the tree when it peered back into his own, and Lucifer swore he felt something crack. Something lift from his shoulders and pulled his wings away, letting them spread proudly, in a way he hadn’t felt or experienced in years. Possibly ever.

“You know….I always enjoyed the story of you they told on earth.” Lucifer grimaced again, the vision of you dimming for a moment as he glanced away.

“Is that so? I’m sure they’re singing my praises.” It was a dry laugh, his hands gesturing in a faux confidence, but his lips quirked when he heard your muffled one.

“No, many aren’t. Most seem to align themselves with Heavens view…” You hummed thoughtfully and stepped forwards into the soft grass that peaked through the cracks of brimstone. Lucifer followed, instinctively. He felt leashed by your presence, though not necessarily in a bad way.

“Though there are plenty, who think a little more like me. There’s many versions of your story. I always knew that the original couldn’t be the full story. Too..one sided. Time on earth taught me that there was always a second side. Someone’s else thoughts-, perspective. Falling only confirmed that.”

You words tangled with your fingers that fluttered across the branches of a close bush, caressing a small flower that curled into your touch. “The first thing I did was look for the story. Of the garden. I wanted to replicate it, though admittedly there was never much detail to go off!”

You laughed again and the sound was quickly becoming a favorite of his. It was gentle..understanding. It almost hurt.

“And when I read the story..it was different. More romantic for sure.” You flushed softly, cheeks warm again as you recalled the way the story of Lucifer and Lilith warmed your soul. “But..more honest. Heart breaking even. I couldn’t believe how horrible it was must’ve been…and never knowing how amazing your gift was..” you turned to him again, your gaze so earnest and true that it made him step back.

Lucifer couldn’t deny the warmth in his own cheeks. You were pretty..pretty? That felt mundane. You practically glowed in the garden. And while it wasn’t a perfect representation of what Eden had been, it was better.

Eden had always been..one dimensional. It lacked the depth and feeling that Lucifer had hoped to give humanity. It was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But it wasn’t real.

This…This, is what he had hoped for the garden to be. Alive. Truly alive.

And…you brought it life…because of him? It didn’t feel right in a way. Having spent so many years locked away by himself and mourning the sin and ruin he had created from his own selfish wish.

Selfish? Had it been selfish? At the time, when he had done it, it didn’t feel selfish. He wanted humanity to live. To be alive! Truly, and honestly alive.

And you were so Alive. You were dead here in hell and yet you were breathing life into this gorgeous scene because you chose to. You chose to fall too. You chose to be in hell.

Because of him? Because of his…gift?

It was ironic almost. Laughable even.

Your lips pursed, a worried sweat on your brow as you lost that roaring confidence that bled into your words prior. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to preach or anything-“ He stopped you.

“So-.…you’re a fan?” His lips screwed into a wobbly smile, embarrassment creeping up his neck at his less then poetic comment, though the laugh you graced him with almost made the shame worth it.

“You could say that. I personally think I hold the title of number one fan, but you know beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.” You gestured animatedly, a small smirk on your lips as you professed your..favor towards the king, and he gleamed.

“Well!” His hands flew to his suit, straightening it out and letting his chest puff out from its slumped frame. “May I know the name of my, alleged, number one fan?” His words were coy, smug as he gestured to you with a flourish that he had shown to the other residents. (Of course till you had so rudely stunned him to silence)

The smile you gifted him was holy.

“(Y/N)…Your highness.” Your bow was playful, a little awkward and strained, but it made him laugh.

“(Y/n), hm? I’ll be sure to remember that.” His throat cleared briefly, “I…hope you wouldn’t mind me stopping by sometime again soon..I’d like to hear a bit more about your garden.” He liked the way you looked at him in this moment. Disbelieving but so hopeful. Like he was something, someone to gaze at in such a way.

“I’d be honored.”

Maybe you had a fan of your own now, as well.

———————☆

[percabethsong]

I just read your warrior Penelope au post and I love how you explained why Penelope would go in his place because Odysseus is missing his leg, genius

Does it still take Penelope ten years to get back home after the Trojan war or is the timeframe shorter/longer? Is her journey back home similar to what happened in the Odyssey? And if so, does Odysseus get suitors at his door wanting his hand in marriage? How would he hold them off while he waits for his wife to get back home?

Sorry for the questions, late night thoughts go brrrrr

Unfortunately, the ten years journey home still happened, although some changes would be made. I think Circe's would be far more trusting of Penelope since she's a woman, although she would still have turned Penelope's crew into pigs, once Circe saw their captain was a woman and they respected her, she let them go easier and doesn't try to seduce her.

Calypso stays pretty much the same, though, it's Greek Mythology, pretty common to feel attraction to more than one gender.

I imagine Penelope, being Ares champion in this AU, may face things a little more upfront than Odysseus would, even though she's also smart and uses cunning sometimes.

The suitors is an interesting questions! I actually thought about this a lot. It depends how accurate things are with Greek Mythology/history. I often see in this AU Odysseus having suitors, which is a fun concept, but since I'm trying to make a version of this AU that would be more possible in universe (hence Penelope having to use her status as an Amazon to convince people she can fight as a woman, since they were some fem warriors in greek myths or general history, but it was difficult for them to gain people's respect), I would say not exactly. Odysseus already has a heir, and Greek Kings can rule without Queens. However, Odysseus is disabled in this concept, and Ancient Greece was a very ableist society. The exception often made were for war wounds, which Odysseus's wouldn't be considered. Odysseus is still very much capable to rule even if he can't fight, he has a sharp mind and Athena stays by his side helping him, which makes Odysseus a great king. However, it's a very hard thing to be respected as a disabled person in this time, even if it was a bit easier if you were nobility. Because he was the king and had a Amazon ruling by his side, people how doubted him kept their complaints to themselves in the beginning. But without Penelope people starting to question him more, especially after she doesn't return with the crew that left for war, making people more relentless. Then a group of men started to appear at the palaces, demanding Odysseus to choose one of them as an advisor and protector, since the queen had not return to fullfil this role. Odyssey not only very much does not need an advisor and protector, but is also aware of the men true intentions: once he chooses one, he'll be killed in a way that looks like an accident and the man he chose will claim the throne, since Telemachus is still too young to be king.

Regarding how Odysseus would hold them off... Hum, that's a interesting questions. I like to imagine he would invent a lot of little challenges for them, claiming he needs to test the skills of his future advisor, both physical and mental. He would come with a new game ever month. I can also picture him saying he would choose a advisor as soon as he finishes an marble sculpture of Penelope himself, without any help to honour his wife. Every night, though, he breaks a little peace of the stone, having to fix it and buying Penelope time. Or at least hold them down enough until Telemachus is ready to be king.

Don't apologise! I've actually never received these kind questions about a post and it made me really happy!

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part III

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Masterlist Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 7572

It’s not difficult to spread news through the kingdom, especially regarding the royal family.

After all, gossip and rumors from the castle staff had initially revealed Natasha’s “secret relationship” with you. It makes sense that you would use the same method to spread the news of your supposed breakup.

With a carefully planned moment when some passing castle staff could easily overhear you and Natasha discussing returning as just friends, the two of you set the stage for your new charade.

By the next day, whispers of the breakup became the focus of every conversation. Nobles and common folks all either speculated whether the information was accurate or tried to pinpoint the reason for the sudden change.

In one of the castle’s guest rooms, maids pack the noble occupant’s belongings while they discuss the matter.

“Do you believe it’s true that Queen Natasha and Lady Y/n are no longer together?” one of them asks, her voice hushed yet eager for gossip.

The other maid glances around briefly before whispering, “I heard that this morning, the two passed each other in the halls with just a simple greeting, nothing like their previous interactions.”

“At least that means that they’re still on friendly terms with each other, right?” another one chimes in.

The first maid shakes her head with a sigh, “I hope so. Remember how Queen Natasha was so depressed when Lady Y/n became distant from her earlier in the year.”

“It’s so unfortunate that things didn’t work out for them,” the second maid remarks sadly, looking at the half-packed trunks before her and asking.

“Is Lady Y/n really leaving this evening?”

“Mhm,” the third maid answers with a nod but then pauses in realization and glances toward the door with a curious look.

“Speaking of which, where is Lady Y/n? She said she had to step away for a moment, but that was a while ago.”

They all look at each other with perplexed and clueless expressions before collectively shrugging in response and returning to their tasks, letting the conversation shift to other gossip.

Meanwhile, over in the opposite wing of the castle, in the new queen’s private chambers, your gasp of breath is muffled under Natasha’s mouth as she covers your lips with hers again, bringing you into another deep kiss.

Your hands clutch tightly at her clothes, pulling her closer from her position above you.

Now, given her newly changed relationship status, the two of you shouldn’t be in this kind of situation together.

However, when you visited her earlier to discuss further details of the plan, one teasing comment led to another, and before she realized it, Natasha found herself pulling you into a kiss and guiding you to her bed, where the two of you are now tangled in each other’s embrace.

“Natasha…” you whisper in between one of the kisses.

Her heartbeat quickens at the sound, loving how her name falls from your lips.

Pulling back slightly, Natasha takes a moment to look at you, and her breath catches at the stunning sight before her.

A lovely red flush graces your cheeks as your chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

Your eyes look at her with such a loving gaze, and also a hint of desire underneath that causes Natasha to lean in again, unable to resist not being near you.

Her lips hover above yours, brushing them lightly in the gentlest touch.

You release a soft breath of anticipation, urging her closer.

And Natasha’s not one to ever deny a request from you.

Leaning in, she’s about to lose herself in the feeling of you once again — when her door suddenly slams open.

The sound of her younger sibling’s outraged exclamation fills the air.

“You broke up with Y/n?!”

A surprised shove from you pushes Natasha off from above your body, causing her to instinctively catch herself beside you on the bed before she could fall over the edge.

Realizing the result of your action, you reach out to steady her and give her an embarrassed, apologetic look before withdrawing away when you remember the new presence in the room.

Groaning at the interruption, Natasha runs her fingers through her hair in frustration, pushing it back from where it had fallen over her face as she shoots a glare at her little sister.

“How many times have I told you to knock, Yelena?!”

Ignoring her reprimand, Yelena stands frozen, mouth agape in shock. She looks between the two of you in confusion, struggling to find words.

After a second, she regains her composure, swiftly closes the door, and turns to face both of you again, pointing at Natasha in accusation.

“No way,” Yelena groans in disbelief. “Please don’t tell me this one of your stupid plans again.”

Sitting up straighter at the insult, Natasha huffs and crosses her arms in offense.

Before she can begin an argument with her sister, you gently rest your hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Actually, Yelena,” you interject. “This time, it was my idea.”

“To break up!?” Yelena exclaims, her voice rising in confusion and disbelief.

“To pretend to break up,” Natasha stresses the distinction with a frown.

She stands from the bed, subtly adjusting her clothes where you had pulled them, inadvertently revealing a glimpse of her toned body for a brief second.

Clearing your throat lightly at the sight, you quickly look away and scoot to the opposite side of the bed from Natasha, standing and directing your attention to Yelena instead.

“It’s just until the matter with Dreykov is resolved,” you explain. “There’s so much tension between everyone on the council at the moment, and I don’t think our relationship is helping to ease that pressure.”

“Unbelievable,” Yelena sighs in exasperation, rubbing her temples as she mutters, “Why can’t you two just be a normal couple?”

“We are a normal couple,” Natasha argues defensively, her brows furrowing as she crosses her arms.

“Well, according to the whole kingdom, you’re not even together anymore,” Yelena reveals.

You release a relieved breath, nodding at the news.

“So it worked. People actually believe that we’ve broken up,” you remark before glancing at Natasha for confirmation.

“That’s good. Isn’t it, Natasha?”

For some reason, your relieved words cause an uncomfortable feeling to form in her chest. Natasha presses her lips slightly in a thin line in discomfort, but when you turn to look at her with the question, her expression quickly shifts, and she manages a small smile.

“Yeah…” Natasha nods lightly. “…good.”

Yelena makes a sound of disbelief, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath.

Turning to her sister, Natasha asks impatiently, “Was there something you needed?”

Unbothered by her annoyed tone, Yelena shrugs calmly.

“Not really. I originally came here to slap some sense into you, but since you’re just pretending, I don’t have to anymore.”

“Great, then leave,” Natasha responds flatly.

“Actually,” you interject, stepping in between the two. “I think I should go. I need to finish preparing everything for my return home this evening anyway.”

Natasha’s expression falls at the reminder.

She tried to convince you to stay longer, but you remained firm in your decision to return to your manor as soon as possible.

Letting out a tiny sigh, Natasha takes your hand, caressing it gently as she pulls you close.

“Alright then, I’ll meet you later in the courtyard before you leave.”

At her offer, you and Yelena exchange a quick glance at each other, silently communicating something to each other.

“What is it now?” Natasha asks, her irritation resurfacing at the unspoken interaction. She already knows she’s not going to like the answer.

Stepping back, Yelena raises her hands in surrender and shakes her head in refusal, clearly opting out of delivering the bad news.

Natasha rolls her eyes and turns to you, her gaze expectant.

You give her hand in yours a tiny squeeze before gently pulling away, patting her arm to offer some comfort.

“It might be better if you don’t,” you explain carefully. “People are just starting to believe our ruse, and we wouldn’t want them to become suspicious.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief.

“So seeing my best friend off before she leaves is suspicious?”

“No,” Yelena answers with a slight smirk. “But it’s been less than a day since you broke her heart. Wouldn’t a breakup be more believable if there’s not much interaction between you two at the moment?”

Her words cause Natasha to frown.

“Is that what they’re saying?” Natasha asks, her voice growing more upset. “That I hurt Y/n. I would never do that.”

“But you kind of did,” Yelena counters before shrugging slightly. “At least the pretend version of you did.”

Natasha’s brows furrow deeply at the revelation, a mixture of frustration and sadness flashing in her eyes.

She opens her mouth to argue, but you interrupt her by placing a calming touch on her shoulder.

“What matters is that our plan’s working,” you say, caressing her arm comfortingly before intertwining your fingers with hers, bringing her focus to you.

“Which means Yelena’s right,” you continue firmly. “We shouldn’t be seen together for the moment.”

You tilt your head and look at her with that same soft expression that always makes her want to grant any request of yours.

“Okay, Natasha?” you ask for her confirmation.

She presses her lips slightly in irritation at the situation, but at your expectant gaze, Natasha relents with a sigh.

“Okay,” she murmurs reluctantly. “I’ll keep my distance.”

In the background, Yelena mutters a soft “whipped” under her breath before coughing lightly when Natasha shoots her a warning glare.

You roll your eyes at Yelena’s teasing before cupping Natasha’s face and pressing a light kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll see you at the next council meeting,” you reassure, turning toward the door.

Considering that’s days away, Natasha isn’t all that comforted by your words. Her eyes follow you, a mixture of longing and resignation in her heart.

As you walk past Yelena, she remarks with a mischievous grin.

“I’m telling Kate.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” you reply with an amused smile. “Goodbye, you two. And Yelena, don’t tease Natasha too much when I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Yelena calls out with a sarcastic wave.

When the door closes, Yelena turns to Natasha with a knowing smirk.

“So…how many seconds did it take for you to cave and agree to Y/n’s idea?”

Natasha sighs deeply, running a hand through her hair in exhaustion before moving toward her desk.

“Not now, Yelena,” she warns, not in the mood for further teasing.

Yelena observes her for a moment, noting the tension in her posture, before shrugging and turning her attention to her sister’s display of weapons. She picks up one of the swords, testing its weight and balance with an appreciative nod, and takes a few practice swings.

Natasha ignores her sister’s actions, already used to Yelena always playing with her things, and turns her attention to the documents she was reviewing before she was understandably distracted by your presence.

Her brows pinch in irritation when she realizes that most are from nobles expressing their agreement with her decision to break off her relationship with you, followed by their recommendations for other potential political partners.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Yelena says suddenly, grabbing Natasha’s attention.

Glancing up, Natasha gives her a questioning look, prompting Yelena to elaborate and gesture at her with the sword.

“You and Y/n pretending not to be together.”

Natasha scoffs and leans back confidently against her chair.

“We’ve known each other for years. I think we have a pretty good idea of how to behave as friends.”

“Mmm, Y/n probably can, but you can’t.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Yelena,” Natasha remarks sarcastically, brushing off the comment.

“No, I’m serious,” Yelena insists, moving closer to stand across the desk from Natasha. She waves her unarmed hand in the air for emphasis as she explains.

“It was fine before when the two of you pretended to be a couple, but that’s because, let’s be honest, you often behaved like one in the past.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief, refusing to acknowledge the most likely truth in her words.

“But pretending to be just friends?” Yelena continues, pointing at Natasha accusingly. “I can’t even remember the last time you looked at Y/n without that lovestruck look in your eyes.”

“I look at her the same way as everyone else,” Natasha defends.

“Mhm, sure,” Yelena responds flatly, rolling her eyes.

With a long sigh, Yelena’s expression grows serious, and a hint of concern flickers in her gaze as she continues.

“I’m just saying it’s obvious that you’ve been in love with Y/n much longer than she has been with you. And now that you’ve experienced what it’s like to be with her, you’ll probably struggle with this whole ‘just friends’ situation.”

A silence envelops the room as Yelena’s words hang in the air.

Natasha appears to be contemplating her sister’s warning before she leans forward on her desk with a slight smirk.

“Y/n told you when she fell in love with me?” Natasha asks curiously.

“You’re hopeless,” Yelena deadpans, hanging her head in defeat.

Natasha chuckles lightly, leaning back in her chair, relaxed and sure.

“I’ll be fine. I know how Y/n feels about me, and she knows how I feel about her. Nothing is going to come between us.”

Yelena shoots her a skeptical look.

“Except for the fact that the two of you are now eligible for other suitors,” she points out, pondering for a moment before adding, “I mean, wasn’t Y/n already meeting with Commander Hill as a potential partner before you two pretended to be together?”

Natasha recalls the moment when you confronted her about the secret relationship rumor after your date with Maria.

You had told her that the two of you were just talking then, but Natasha still remembers the discomfort and nervousness she felt when she discovered you were looking for a partner.

Now that she thinks about it, Natasha wonders, if there wasn’t that momentary rift in her friendship with you, would she have been considered as one of your choices as a potential partner, or would you still have accepted Maria’s invitation instead?

The sudden curious thought unnerves her slightly, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her chair.

Attempting to appear unbothered, Natasha shrugs and replies calmly, “Yeah, but nothing resulted from those meetings.”

“Because of your little charade,” Yelena points out. “Who knows, maybe if you hadn’t asked Y/n to be a part of your plan, they would’ve been married by now.”

Natasha frowns deeply at that comment before quickly shaking her head to dispel the uncomfortable thought.

Considering she has a brief meeting with the said commander later today, the last thing she wants to dwell on is how you and Hill nearly shared a future together.

“Is there a point you’re trying to make with all of this?” Natasha asks.

In response, Yelena slams her hand atop the desk, shooting her a serious glare and an exasperated sigh.

“I just don’t understand why you would choose to go backward in your relationship.”

Natasha gives her a confused look.

“As opposed to what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yelena replies sarcastically, gesturing to one of the desk drawers. “Maybe that little box hidden in there might give you an idea.”

Natasha looks at the drawer where she knows the ring intended for you is hidden, then back to her sister with a disapproving glare.

“You’ve been snooping through my things again,” Natasha accuses.

“Wha-No…” Yelena defends.

She waves her hand aimlessly in the air as she tries to come up with a believable excuse.

“I just happened to see it…that one time.”

Natasha crosses her arms and raises a disbelieving brow, staring at her expectantly.

Knowing she’s been caught, Yelena sighs and continues, “…when I was searching your desk to borrow one of your knives,” she admits.

Natasha blinks at her in confusion.

“What happened to all of yours?” Natasha asks, referring to Yelena’s own collection of weapons.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yelena brushes off quickly, looking away and twirling the sword in her hand in distraction.

Natasha examines her sister carefully, suspicion in her eyes. She knows Yelena well enough to recognize when she’s hiding something.

However, Natasha also understands the lack of privacy and freedom that comes with their roles in the royal family, where every move and decision is under constant scrutiny.

Having recently experienced this lack of freedom herself, Natasha decides to give her some leeway, trusting that Yelena will come to her if she needs help.

“Alright, then,” Natasha accepts nonchalantly.

Yelena squints at her in suspicion at her simple response before widening her eyes in surprise, realizing she wasn’t going to pry further. Yelena goes to return the sword to its place before facing her again, bringing the subject back to the original discussion.

“So, why haven’t you asked Y/n to marry you?” Yelena questions, her tone curious and insistent.

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it Mom?” Yelena asks knowingly. “Is she trying to make you do some elaborate proposal?”

“No, it’s not that,” Natasha chuckles lightly before her expression turns somber at the real reason why she hasn’t asked you to marry her yet.

“It’s just…with everything that’s happened, I just…I want to make sure it’s safe…”

Natasha glances down at the documents from the overbearing nobles, their demands and judgments returning to her mind. She rubs her temple in irritation, feeling the tension increasing there again.

“…before I drag her into this kind of life,” she finishes, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yelena observes her for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought before she shakes her head knowingly.

“Nat, you can’t protect Y/n from every danger out there,” Yelena remarks. “Besides, we both know she’s perfectly capable of handling herself.”

“I know,” Natasha answers sadly, recalling how you tend to face your problems alone and how well you had hidden your troubles from her and the others.

She still regrets not noticing what you were going through sooner.

Determined not to make the same mistake again, Natasha mutters softly under her breath in a promise, “But she shouldn’t have to.”

Realistically, she can’t shield you from every danger. But she can still try to give you a peaceful kingdom—the kind you’ve always believed she could accomplish.

That’s the least she can do for you after all the trust you’ve placed in her.

Letting out a tired exhale, Natasha reaches to the side of her desk and opens a secret compartment, retrieving the weapon from its place.

Her expression softens as she turns the item over in her hand, examining it with a gentle touch. It is one of her favorites and special to her for a reason.

The engraving of her family crest is prominently displayed on the hilt. The intricate hourglass design reflects hours of delicate and careful craftsmanship. Each detail and aspect of the weapon had been chosen and customized personally for her.

After a moment’s hesitation, she looks at Yelena in contemplation and makes a decision.

“Here, so you won’t have to go through my things again,” Natasha says, offering the knife to Yelena.

Before she can take it, Natasha pulls it back slightly and points at her with a warning, continuing firmly, “But you better return it after you finish with whatever it is you’re doing.”

Yelena nods in understanding as she accepts the weapon, admiring it appreciatively before recognizing it and securing it at her side.

“Right, because this was a present from Y/n. It’d be a real shame if I accidentally lost it,” she jokes with a slight chuckle.

Not amused, Natasha gives her a severe glare, a silent warning that causes Yelena to raise her hands in surrender.

“I’m kidding,” Yelena reassures. “Don’t worry, Nat, I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

She makes her way to the door and opens it before pausing and turning back to Natasha.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Mom wanted me to tell you that you need to meet with her sometime soon to discuss the plans for your birthday celebration.”

Natasha groans at the reminder.

Her upcoming birthday meant yet another social event that some nobles will manipulate for their own selfish agendas.

Considering how the previous year’s celebration turned out, Natasha is not looking forward to participating in the planning for this one.

“I assume ‘nothing’ is not an acceptable answer for her,” Natasha says with resignation.

Yelena shrugs, replying, “Maybe if Y/N was the one to suggest that. Knowing Mom, she’d probably consider it then.”

She pauses, a mischievous glint in her eyes, before releasing an exaggerated gasp.

“But wait, it wouldn’t make sense for Y/N to do that for you.”

Her voice drips with sarcasm as she gives Natasha a teasing smirk.

“You know, since you broke her heart.”

Before Natasha can react, Yelena swiftly hides behind the door, closing it just in time to block the small, paperweight Natasha hurls at her, the object clattering harmlessly to the floor.

Her laughter echoes down the hallway, causing Natasha to huff in irritation.

She turns her glare to the documents on her desk. With a frustrated growl, she crumples the papers and throws them away.

As she sits back in her chair, Natasha runs a hand through her hair, closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself. She sighs deeply, realizing she’s not going to like this new charade at all.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

After preparing everything for your return home, Natasha’s mother invited you to spend some time with her before you leave.

The fireplace casts a warm glow, creating a cozy atmosphere in the room as you engage in a friendly game with her.

Sitting across from the former queen, you study the board between you, contemplating your next move.

“So,” Melina suddenly speaks up, drawing your attention. “You and Natasha have decided to remain friends, is that right?”

Realizing she’s referring to the breakup rumors you and Natasha fabricated, you look down at the board to avoid her scrutinizing gaze. Calmly, you move one of your pieces forward, capturing one of hers, before nodding and meeting her eyes again.

“Yes,” you reply, keeping your tone casual. “We both agreed it would be for the best.”

“Hmm,” she hums thoughtfully.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion at you as she taps the edge of the board in contemplation.

You maintain your composure, accustomed to facing similarly observant eyes from her daughter.

After a moment, Melina sighs softly and turns her attention back to the board.

“I see. Well, I won’t deny that I’m disappointed it didn’t work out between you two, but I promised Natasha I wouldn’t meddle in her love life anymore. So…” She moves one of her pieces and looks up at you with a nod. “…if that’s what you’ve both decided, I’ll respect your decision.”

You offer a small, appreciative smile and refocus on the board. Noticing the new position of her piece, you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Why would you place your king inside the enemy’s territory like that?” you ask.

Melina smiles faintly, letting out a melancholic sigh as her gaze drifts to the board, lost in a distant memory.

“It’s more common than you might think, especially during wartime. Spies have always given our kingdom a fighting chance, so leaders often took on such roles too.”

She looks back at you with a smirk.

“Even I was a spy at one point in my life.”

“That sounds dangerous,” you remark, moving a counter piece and capturing another one of hers.

“It is, but if done correctly, it can be very effective,” she explains, moving the king to a position you didn’t anticipate, trapping your defenses.

She leans back in her chair, relaxed and confident, nodding at you with a hint of a smile. “And who knows, you may discover something along the way.”

Frowning, you scrutinize the board, searching for a path to recover from Melina’s powerful move, but find none. With a soft sigh, you shake your head in defeat.

“I should’ve known better than to think I could beat you in a game of war and strategy,” you admit, leaning back in your chair.

Melina waves her hand dismissively, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Nonsense, you’ve matched me at every move up until the very end. It’s impressive, really. I believe you strategize almost at the same level as your father.”

Your body tenses at the compliment, and your expression falters as you withdraw your hands to your lap.

The warmth of the fire seems to fade, replaced by a sudden chill that runs through you.

Melina notices your change in demeanor, her brow furrowing with concern as she realizes her mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she apologizes genuinely, her voice softening. She reaches out as if to touch your arm but hesitates, choosing to respect your space. “That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter, your voice barely audible as you shake your head slightly. Your hands clench slightly with your next thought, the tension palpable in the air. “I mean, it makes sense that I would have internalized some of his ways of thinking after all these years.”

“No,” Melina interjects firmly, leaning forward to ensure you hear her clearly. “You are not like him, Y/n. You are better. In every way.”

Her eyes lock onto yours, filled with conviction and deep, unwavering belief in you.

The sincerity in her words warms you, and you give her a small, genuine smile of appreciation. You hope that you will be able to prove her right.

Still sensing the slight tension in your expression, Melina claps her hands together, a determined look on her face.

“Now, I wouldn’t want you to leave without a little something from me,” she remarks, reaching over to grab a bundle of books and handing them to you.

“Here you are,” she continues. “You’ve been quite curious about the previous war in our recent conversations, so I had these old books found for you. Unfortunately, there isn’t much information about the Starks, like you requested.”

“Thank you,” you say in slight surprise. As you flip through the books. Your fingers run along their spines until one, in particular, catches your eye. Its edges are charred and damaged as if it had survived a fire.

“Oh, how did that one get in there?” Melina asks, peering over with a hint of confusion.

“What is it?” you ask, intrigued by the book’s worn appearance.

“It belonged to King Howard Stark, found among the remnants after the fire burned down their carriage,” she explains. “We tried to return some of the things we salvaged from the accident, but their son didn’t want to accept anything from us then. Still, we are fortunate that he at least agreed to keep the peace treaty his parents had established.”

You delicately trace the front of the book, absorbing the revelation. Though you once claimed you wanted nothing to do with your identity, you can’t deny your curiosity about what life might have been like if things had turned out differently or about the people who would’ve been a part of your life instead.

Melina sighs sadly at the memories. “I should return that to the storage,” she says, reaching for the book.

But you pull it closer, asking hesitantly, “Is it okay if I hold onto it…just for a bit?”

Melina observes you thoughtfully, humming in contemplation before deciding, “I guess that should be fine since I know you’d take care of it. But why the sudden interest in the Starks?” she asks.

You shrug lightly, tightening your hold on the book.

“Like you said, just curious.”

Before she can press further, a knock on the door interrupts the conversation, and Melina calls them in. The door creaks open, revealing a guard who bows slightly and declares, “The carriage is ready outside for Lady Y/n.”

Hearing this, you stand and give a bow in goodbye to the former queen.

“I should go.”

Raising her hand in a stopping gesture, Melina stands with an amused expression.

“Hold on, with all my spare time now, I don’t see why I can’t come with you to see you off.”

You pause, slightly surprised, your eyebrows raising, but you don’t refuse her company as the two of you make your way to the courtyard.

When you step outside, the chill of the evening air greets you. At this late hour, the area is almost devoid of workers and visitors. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths.

However, the quiet atmosphere is disrupted by a rhythmic clang of metal against metal from the nearby training yard.

Curious, you glance toward the sound, and a tiny, amused smile forms on your face when you spot the familiar redhead, seemingly engrossed in a sparring session.

“How strange. Natasha doesn’t typically train at this time of day,” Melina comments beside you, noticing her daughter’s presence. She gives you a questioning look, her eyes sharp with curiosity.

You shrug slightly, your gaze naturally following Natasha’s graceful movements as she parries and strikes at each attack.

“I’m not sure why she would be training at this time either,” you reply softly, the lie slipping quickly from your lips.

As you continue to watch, you realize that Natasha’s opponent is Commander Hill. You recall that they were scheduled to meet today, but it seems they decided to test their skills against each other instead.

You’re fairly certain who suggested the idea, conveniently placing them in the training yard just as you are leaving.

At one point, Natasha’s eyes meet yours, and a tiny grin briefly breaks through her concentrated expression, causing your lips to quirk up lightly in response.

“I see,” Melina mutters before clearing her throat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you remember her presence, realizing how long you must have been staring at Natasha.

Turning away casually, feigning disinterest, you return your attention to the former queen, hoping she didn’t notice your captivated expression.

Unfortunately, the amused grin on her face, accompanied by a raised brow, suggests otherwise.

Sighing internally, you can’t believe it hasn’t even been a day since you and Natasha started this charade, and you are already getting caught by her sister and mother.

You’ll need to work harder to suppress your feelings for Natasha to ensure that this charade remains convincing to others in the future.

Taking a deep breath, you brace yourself for the anticipated reprimand of your deception.

Melina hums thoughtfully, her eyes darting between her daughter and you before giving you a pointed tilt of her head.

“I trust that the two of you know what you’re doing?” she finally asks.

Surprised by her words, you stare at her momentarily before nodding hesitantly and answering softly, “Yes.”

“Good,” Melina says with a satisfied nod. “That’s all I need to know.”

You tilt your head in slight confusion at her reaction, astonished by her nonchalant attitude and the trust she places in you regarding the situation. You wonder if she’s toying with you, offering a false sense of security before delivering a reprimand or lecture.

However, Melina simply gives you a reassuring smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder before surveying the surrounding courtyard. Her brow furrows as she realizes something, and she calls for a nearby guard.

“Where are all the escorts?” she asks, concern evident in her voice.

Before the guard can respond, you break out of your stupor and speak up.

“I told Captain Rogers that I would be fine without one,” you reveal.

The aftermath of the recent attack had left many of the castle’s soldiers out of commission, still recovering from their injuries, both physically and mentally. You can see that the remaining soldiers are spread thin, their numbers barely sufficient to maintain the castle’s defenses.

“No, that’s not acceptable. Surely, we can offer you some protection on your way home,” Melina insists, moving to command one of the guards.

You stop her, interjecting reassuringly, “Thank you, but really, there’s no need.” You gesture towards the carriage. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t be alone during the ride.”

Standing in the distance near the carriage are two familiar figures waiting for you.

Upon seeing who you’re referring to, Melina relents with a soft sigh in understanding, “Oh, alright then.”

She gently touches your arm, adding, “It’s been a pleasure having you at the castle, Y/n. Come visit again soon.”

You give her a bow in farewell, returning the sentiment, “I will. Thank you…for everything.”

Leaving the former queen’s side, you make your way over to the carriage and find Pietro near the packed chests at the back. He fidgets with the restraints, securing them again and again, his movements a blur of nervous energy.

After stowing the bundle of books in the carriage seat, you quietly approach him.

“What are you doing?” you ask the older twin curiously.

Pietro jumps slightly, startled by your sudden presence at his side, and replies hastily, “We’re not doing anything!”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion at his reaction.

Seeing your expression, Pietro shifts nervously and tries to lean casually on the chests, patting them awkwardly.

“I mean, I’m just checking to make sure everything’s secure.”

“The guards already did that,” you point out with a raised brow.

“Well, you can’t be too careful,” Pietro sputters, his eyes shifting around nervously.

You notice his gaze darting toward something beside you.

Turning to see what he’s looking at, you find his twin sister standing a short distance away, gazing intently at the training field.

Confused and surprised that Wanda has yet to greet you, you start to make your way toward her.

Before you can get far, Pietro swiftly slides in front of you, blocking your path and waving his hands frantically.

“You know what, you’re right. Everything’s all ready to go. We should just get into the carriage now,” he suggests quickly, attempting to steer you in a different direction.

Pinching your brows further in suspicion at his behavior, you step back and cross your arms.

“What is going on? Why are you acting so strange?”

Pietro’s face flushes with a mixture of guilt and anxiety.

“It’s nothing, really. Just…um..uh,” he stammers, but his eyes flicker once more to Wanda.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, you sidestep Pietro and stride over to Wanda. He quickly follows behind you, still trying to convince you that nothing is happening.

With her arms crossed, Wanda focuses intently on something in the distance, not noticing your approach.

You follow her gaze curiously, and your eyes widen in surprise at what you see.

In the training yard, Natasha is now struggling in the sparring session, with Maria seemingly gaining the upper hand with each strike. While it’s not unusual for the skilled and formidable commander to hold her own against Natasha, you quickly notice that something is off compared to when you watched them earlier.

Natasha’s movements and swings are staggered, lacking their usual precision. When their swords connect again, you spot the reason.

A tiny red mist appears at the point of contact, and Natasha’s sword is slightly shifted from its intended position, causing her to lose balance from the sudden, unexpected shift in pressure.

Reacting quickly, Natasha adjusts herself and continues the fight.

Swiftly turning to Wanda, you see the subtle red glow in her eyes and on her fingers, moving slightly from where they’re hidden in her crossed arms.

“Wanda!” you call out.

Startled, all signs of her powers vanish immediately, and she turns to you with an innocent expression.

“Yes?”

You give her a disbelieving look, silently telling her she isn’t fooling you.

“In the carriage,” you declare, pointing back in the direction you came from.

Frowning, Wanda points at Natasha in the distance. “But she broke up—”

“Now,” you say firmly.

Wanda sighs, dropping her hands to her sides with a pout, but she follows your order and heads to the carriage.

Turning to the other twin, who is now standing awkwardly nearby, pretending to innocently examine something on his shirt, you call out, “You too, Pietro.”

Grabbing his arm, you pull him toward the carriage. “Don’t think I forgot about your part in this.”

He yelps in surprise at your sudden action. “But I didn’t do anything!” he exclaims incredulously.

“Really? So, you weren’t trying to distract me from finding out what Wanda was doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Pietro starts to answer but hesitates, closing his mouth guiltily under your knowing gaze. Deciding there’s no point in lying, he quickly jumps into the carriage before you can reprimand him further.

Shaking your head at their behavior, you hold the carriage door, preparing to enter, but can’t resist glancing over your shoulder at the training yard once more.

Natasha stands victorious despite the earlier interference. She helps Maria to her feet, then casually turns toward you as she sheathes her sword. Catching your gaze, Natasha flashes her usual confident smirk and follows it with a quick, flirty wink.

Huffing lightly, you roll your eyes at her antics but can’t help the smile that forms on your face. With a slight nod of goodbye, you climb into the carriage, and the driver closes the door behind you.

Natasha watches you over at the training ground until you disappear inside the carriage.

She’s glad she thought of arranging this short training session, knowing you would be leaving at this time. This way, she keeps her promise to maintain distance while still seizing the chance to see you.

The moment you appeared with her mother, her attention immediately drifted toward you. Glancing down at her hand, Natasha clenches and unclenches it, observing it curiously before looking back at the carriage.

Perhaps her focus on you was why some of her strikes felt off earlier.

The commander steps up beside her after recovering from her defeat, and her eyes follow Natasha’s gaze across the courtyard.

“Oh, is Lady Y/n leaving today?” Maria inquires, wiping sweat from her brow.

Realizing she is still staring, Natasha quickly turns away. She nods slightly and tries to mask her emotions with a casual tone. “It appears so.”

Maria’s expression shifts to one of sympathy at the seemingly new dynamic between you and Natasha.

“I’m sorry to hear that it didn’t work out between you two,” Maria says gently. “I hope this wasn’t because of the remarks from the other council members.”

Natasha grimaces at the reminder of why she’s in this position, but she quickly changes her expression to something more neutral.

“These kinds of romantic relationships are always complicated,” she says with forced nonchalance, adding, “We’ll be fine eventually. This won’t change anything about our friendship.”

Maria nods thoughtfully, glancing back at your carriage.

“That’s good to hear,” she says. “Whether romantic or platonic, I believe Lady Y/n is someone great to have by your side, either way, Your Majesty. The other lords don’t even try to know her enough to understand that.”

Her praise reminds Natasha of Yelena’s earlier remarks regarding you and the commander.

Clearing her throat to dispel the sudden discomfort, Natasha tries to sound casual as she brings up the topic of Maria’s intentions.

“I heard you and she also shared a brief sort of courtship before,” Natasha begins, hesitantly asking, “Do you still have an interest in Lady Y/n in that way?”

Maria turns her attention back to Natasha, her expression slightly surprised before turning contemplative as she considers her response.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m not intrigued after getting to know Lady Y/n,” she finally replies, her words careful and measured.

Natasha’s brows furrow slightly at her admission, realizing Yelena was correct about the potential problems this new charade could bring.

You’ve always teased her for having so many admirers, yet you are oblivious to the many others also drawn to you.

Now that you’re no longer spoken for, they are probably eager for the chance to be with you. But with the conditions of this charade, Natasha can’t do anything to prevent it from happening, forced to keep her distance and maintain an indifferent attitude about the situation.

Natasha sighs internally at the thought and returns her focus to the conversation.

Before she can muster an appropriate response, Maria gives her a small, knowing smile as she continues, “However, I won’t be pursuing such relations with her anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking.”

Confused, Natasha furrows her brows and asks curiously, “Why is that?”

Maria chuckles lightly before gesturing at her.

“Well, first, because she just got out of a relationship with you,” Maria reminds her. “I’m sure she would prefer some time to herself before delving into something with another person so soon.”

Natasha nods in understanding, acknowledging the truth in Maria’s reasoning. “And the other reason?”

Maria’s eyes drift back to the carriage briefly before returning to Natasha. A faint, self-conscious smile plays on her lips.

“Contrary to how it may seem with my other accomplishments, I’m not as confident when it comes to matters of romance,” she admits.

Natasha considers this, realizing she rarely hears about the commander’s romantic pursuits. The only time it was mentioned was by you about your meeting with her.

Rather than reassurance, her revelation brings about a new discomfort as Natasha suddenly realizes something.

She raises her hand in a halting gesture, her thoughts racing as she pieces together the new information.

“Wait, are you saying Y/n asked you out first?” Natasha asks hesitantly.

Maria nods in confirmation before tilting her head slightly as if recalling the memory.

“I’m still curious as to why she did, though, considering her secret relationship with you,” she remarks thoughtfully. She shakes her head and shrugs, continuing, “Though, maybe it was her father’s decision to have us meet. I heard he made such arrangements for her during that time.”

Natasha falls silent as she processes the revelation. The uncomfortable feeling from before resurfaces with full force. She knows Dreykov had no part in this.

Choosing Maria was something you decided for yourself.

After a moment of silence, Maria speaks up, sensing Natasha’s distracted state.

“Should I come back another time?” she suggests.

Pulled from her thoughts, Natasha quickly shakes her head in response, deciding to redirect the conversation to other matters rather than continue spiraling further about the subject. She can deal with her feelings later.

“No, it’s fine,” she reassures, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. “You mentioned you found something troubling about Rumlow’s weapon operations.”

Maria nods, retrieving a folded document from her side and handing it to Natasha.

“One of the orders from his books lists some strange, unapproved weapons that came in recently,” she explains.

Natasha furrows her brows as she examines the document. It indicates that the weapons were sent to Rumlow from somewhere far west. But the only two kingdoms in that direction would be Carter and—

“Stark?” Natasha mutters in contemplation.

After years of brief communication with the former enemy kingdom, the sudden influx of information concerning them is both unusual and unsettling.

First, there was their previous captain Bucky’s reappearance from hiding, then your revealed identity, and now possibly this.

Natasha would feel better about the situation if she had a chance to meet the Stark king and see what sort of person he is, but all she’s learned about him is from rumors and stories—most of which are not exactly favorable toward his character.

“We’re not sure,” Maria answers, pulling Natasha from her thoughts. “But that’s the least troubling part.”

“What is it then?” Natasha questions.

“They’re missing from his inventory,” she reveals. “Most likely, the weapons have already been sold or distributed to his followers.”

The mercenaries of Hydra. Some of their members escaped capture after her duel with Rumlow and are still hiding in the kingdom.

It’s troubling to think they may have gotten hold of these weapons, and now, without someone to follow, who knows what they might plan to do.

Natasha sighs at the news, adding to her growing list of worries.

“What kind of weapons are we dealing with here?”

“I’ve asked around, but not even Clint has an idea of what these weapons are capable of,” Maria answers.

Natasha frowns, then nods with determination.

“Inform Captain Rogers of the situation and see if he can spare any more help in the investigation,” she instructs. “We need to find these weapons quickly before they are used to hurt anybody.”

“Understood,” Maria replies, nodding. “I’ll let him know right away.”

As Maria leaves to carry out the orders, Natasha takes a moment to collect herself.

The thought of being unable to be near you for a while tugs at her heart, but combined with these new problems, she steels herself, understanding that there are other pressing matters at the moment.

Her feelings can wait. It’s like she said before — Nothing is going to come between you two. Natasha glances back toward the departing carriage one last time, a mix of conflicted emotions flickering across her face. Right?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/n: thank you for reading! I know I already said that it may take longer in between parts, but I’m still sorry about the wait (and for how long this part is 😬) Hopefully, with some free time coming up, I can have more time to write.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff

[prokopetz]

So, you've mentioned before that TTRPGs always have an expected "mode of play", that is, the basic concept from which the gameplay loop is derived. I admit I have little experience with this kind of thing, but I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the mode of play of Lasers and Feelings. Like, what's the unifying thread between Lasers and Feelings, Radical Catgirl Anarchy, and Lily is Girls With The Ability? Or between L&F and something like Speeding Bullets, for that matter? Is it just that they're all rules-light shitposts? Or is it based on, like, the tension between the two different ends of a dichotomy?

One-page games can be tricky in this respect because they just don't have the bandwidth to explicitly state many of their assumptions. They necessarily depend on the players (and the GM, if present) bringing the "correct" set of assumptions to the table regarding how the game ought to be played.

Still, there's enough there to draw certain conclusions. For example, in a typical Lasers & Feelings hack, rolling the dice gives a pass-or-fail outcome (with optional complication) for a discrete physical, mental, or social task. This frames a session of play as a sort of narrative obstacle course: the story consists of overcoming a series of well-defined obstacles in order to arrive at a particular goal. That might seem like a fairly banal observation, because that's how a lot of tabletop RPGs frame a session of play, but we need to make that explicit to contextualise the next step.

That next stop, of course, being the approaches.

One of the baseline assumptions of any tabletop RPG is that you're going to use it to tell the kinds of stories about which the rules have something to say – indeed, a tabletop RPG has to assume this, because if you're not telling the kind of story about which the rules have something to say, you're not playing the game!

To that end, a Lasers & Feelings hack is usually going to give you a pair of approaches to roll against, each consisting of a set of ways of conceptualising the obstacle in front of you. I'm not using the term "conceptualising" just to be fancy here; in Lasers & Feelings, the GM (if present) describes the obstacles, but it's on the player, not the GM, to decide "this is the kind of obstacle which can be overcome with [insert approach]", and nobody gets to tell them they're wrong.

Thus, a Lasers & Feelings hack assumes that the story of your game is going to consist of a series of obstacles (see above) which can usefully be conceptualised using at least one of the game's two approaches. A game where your approaches are "the power of friendship" and "the power of unimaginable violence", for example, probably isn't one that you'd want to use to play out a scenario inspired by Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, because those approaches aren't useful ways of conceptualising the kinds of obstacles such a story is likely to present – and if you used it anyway, the story would rapidly stop being a Pride and Prejudice pastiche.

All that in mind, it might be more accurate to state that Lasers & Feelings as a framework presents meta-expectations; the framework provides a set of mechanisms for a particular hack's chosen approaches to direct play, but you have to look at what that hack's chosen approaches actually are to pin down what that direction is.

[msbluebell]

How We Fall For People Like James Somerton

We're all joking, but this James Somerton thing has me really fucked up.

I wasn't a huge fan of James. I saw a few of his videos and liked them. In the ones I saw he was calm and explained things straightforwardly and even the one or two times he said things against white women...well, that's language I've been seeing on Tumblr since I joined back in my tweenage years. I thought it was just a dismissive joke pointing out a frank reality.

I didn't watch him too much. Just a few videos. I kept meaning to watch more, but I didn't because sometimes I wanted something easier. But I regarded him sell because of how informed he seemed.

And that's the thing, isn't it? He SEEMED informed. He spoke confidently and sometimes quoted queer sounding articles and I trusted him blindly. And why? Because he was giving me information that SEEMED well researched.

Illumanaughtii too. I WAS a consistent fan of hers before other youtubers came out. Because she presented information really well and I like hand drawn characters and because she read academic sounding quotes. I trusted her and her information was stollen. And I feel like a fool for ever having trusted her now, but at least her stollen facts were apparently accurate. Maybe.

James though, he straight up lied. Todd in the Shadows went through a lot of effort to expose those lies. He did so much research that I didn't bother to do. And he admitted he only did it because he happened to know people more informed than him that noticed the lies and went down a rabbit hole.

And maybe if I was more involved I would have noticed. But that's beside the point. what's getting me is I didn't bother to check myself, I just blindly trusted.

And the worst part is I can see why it happened.

I work.

I work, and then I get home, and when I get home I stress. I stress about work I have to do tomorrow, or classes, or finding a new job that actually pays a livable wage. And to escape that stress I go online to AO3, or tumblr, but especially Youtube.

Because I like youtube, I like to have noise in the background while I work. I like to listen to things while I read. And some of the time it's ASMR videos, or watching someone cook something. But mostly? It's history things or video essays.

And when I'm working, or reading, I'll hear a fact, and I'll look up, and I'll think "Huh, that's interesting to know, I didn't know that." And I won't think anything about it.

Because I'm busy, or I'm tired. I'm tired from work, and I don't want to do more work. Or sometimes it's mental health. This is my coping mechanism. I'm trying to learn things, do something to distract myself. I'm not looking to disprove things.

In other words I'm lazy. Or, if I'm being kind to myself, I'm tired.

Maybe if the topic was something I was an expert in I would have noticed. I'm a former ballerina, I'm a failed history major dropout. Maybe if he'd said something like "Holodomor never happened" or "Boudica is a Finnish folk hero" I'd have noticed. Maybe.

But he didn't, and I didn't notice. I assumed he did the work, and why?

Because surely a gay man wouldn't spend hours on youtube talking about Queer history if he wasn't passionate. Because he, a queer man, would surely know about queer history. Surely he wouldn't want to spread lies and hate. And he's quoting from books and articles so why wouldn't I trust him?

My trust was blind and unfounded.

And now I'm reeling from that. I'm reeling because I'm starting to feel like I can't trust a lot of people. How can I listen to any Youtuber casually now?

I can't, I never should have assumed I could.

Now every informative video feels like I need to do tens of hours of research just to be sure what I'm hearing is true. I feel like I can't trust anything unless I do.

James Somerton took my trust.

And it's not only that either. That's not what scares me the most. It's that there are THOUSANDS of people like me. Millions like me. Who are learning something from a video or a tweet or a tumblr post from someone they assume is an expert and are blindly trusting because they assume they can trust it. They don't intend to do their own research because they're tired, or don't know how. And that scars me. I was a history major, I studied tyrants and misinformation and the rise of propaganda, and I, with all my tools to notice, was still blind.

You cannot blindly trust a video, you cannot blindly trust a tweet, you especially cannot blindly trust a tumblr post.

YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPOGANDA

[deadlysoupy]

Starbee... I want to see them be parents together. Coming up with a lesson plan for the Terrans, discussing what would be best for them, maybe sharing a meal while doing so.

Or maybe just sitting together, holding hands and being romantic but being interrupted as parents tend to be.

aahhr i realised way too late that i did neither of those and they didn't even get interrupted so this is Just fluff. theres nothing else. im so sorry anon i hope you aren't too upset at this

(Read here on AO3)

This night on the farm turned out to be the most peaceful one they've had in months. The weather stayed sunny for most of the day, but when it suddenly started raining, the kids indulged themselves in warm weather and ran around, soaked through and through. Dottie ended up yelling at him, but Bumblebee knew she was just trying to keep her "stern but fair" mom persona, her eyes flickered to the kids a couple of times with a soft smile. So he was pretty sure no one actually got in trouble.

Starscream added quite a charm to the whole day, honestly. When he's not trying to be a megalomaniac and, instead, encourages healthy competition — to not let it go too far — he's kind-of-sort-of good with children. Who knew.

At least it gave Bee some time off to passively enjoy the peace, even if for a while. And he got a nice view of the kids under the tree's pleasant shade.

The day rolled to a stop, though, when the sun started to set. They shared a meal together, and when the Maltos got exhausted Bumblebee settled them down with a fairytale he heard somewhere. It wasn't entirely accurate, but the kids got a laugh out of it, so it wasn't a lost cause.

Starscream was waiting for him in the middle of a meadow, a little bit away from the farm, to give them some privacy. Bumblebee's spark fluttered each time Star did something nice for him, even as plain as finding them a nice spot, because it meant he cared.

While Star's optics did flicker to him for a moment, he went back to stargazing, their shine all the more obvious when they're out in the country. He rested his chin on his servo, propped up by his knee, and he looked relaxed. As he got closer, he noticed tiny drops of water on his frame, from wet grass after rain. They resembled stars.

Bumblebee plopped down next to him. At first he wanted to stretch his back and lay down, but seeing Starscream's vulnerable left side, he didn't want to pass that opportunity. So he scooched over to lean into him and capture his servo while Starscream wasn't too upset with him.

It did get his attention, though. He regarded Bee's servo intertwined with his own and sighed — but didn't pull away. "Is this… touching necessary?"

Bumblebee shut his optics and shrugged, too cozy to care. "Maybe not. You like it."

He got a loud vent as an answer. Soon, Starscream squeezed Bumblebee's servo, and the lazy smile on Bee's faceplate grew.

"How do you suppose this day went?" Starscream asked, in that "I don't actually care" tone, but Bumblebee saw through it each time.

"This about the Terrans?" Bee responded, to which Starscream slightly shifted. "Today was good. You really bring something new to the table, Star, and I think the kids are happy to have you. You are a little bit… weird, to say the least."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" there was a grin in Star's tone despite his desire to appear offended.

"Yeah. You're unorthodox. Out of the box. They get a kick out of figuring you out. You're like a Rubik's cube."

"Really? Is that how it was for you as well?"

"Hm", Bumblebee nuzzled into the Seeker even deeper with his cheek. He opened his optics look at him. "I didn't have any intention to solve you, really, and I wasn't seeking a challenge. It was because of the Maltos that I got into this, that's true, but it was a lucky coincidence I won't ever regret. I'll admit, it was nice to figure your in and outs. Like I said, you are charmingly weird."

Starscream's face was completely flushed now, and he covered his grin with a servo — one that wasn't trapped by Bumblebee, that is. Regardless, he spoke. "You added "charmingly" to weird."

Bee shrugged again. "What can I say, you're both."

Starscream hummed and didn't protest. They stayed like that for a little bit, quiet and serene, Star's face cooling off while Bumblebee started drifting into a blissful recharge.

His optics flew open in an instant. "Oh, shoot, I haven't thought of a plan for next week."

"What are you worrying for? It's the weekend, you have plenty of time to think."

"I do not. Arcee was supposed to come up with something, but she bailed, and now I remembered that I have to do the whole thing by myself!"

"Hey, now," Starscream took his other servo and intertwined their digits. "We could think of something together. Someone did say that I was an unpredictable force of nature."

"I didn't say that," Bee smiled, but his spark calmed. He took a breath. "You're right. With you around, I'm sure the kids will have lots of growth opportunities. Their flying skills have already improved by a ton, not to mention the strategies you come up with."

Star's smirk was wider than it had any right to be. "Of course. I wasn't the Second in Command for nothing!"

"Don't gloat in front of the kids, though."

"You never let me have any fun!"

And so they spent most of the night thinking of any specific exercises that would get the kids excited. Starscream focused on the fliers — Twitch and Nightshade — while Bumblebee managed the other activities and how to get everyone involved. Overall, it turned out to be a very productive night.

If Bumblebee glanced at Starscream's thoughtful expression more often than not, it wasn't because he liked the way the flier talked about things he found exciting. Totally not.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Thank you for all this WORK. I so appreciate the time you are putting into this resource.

Was wondering if there are some good ways to keep information from the character without being knocked out, amnesia, or a drunk black out that would be cause for them to not remember. Thank you!

Writing Notes: Memory Lapses

Healthy people can experience memory loss or memory distortion at any age. Some of these memory flaws become more pronounced with age, but — unless they are extreme and persistent — they are not considered indicators of Alzheimer's or other memory-impairing illnesses.

Some Normal Memory Problems

Transience. This is the tendency to forget facts or events over time. You are most likely to forget information soon after you learn it. However, memory has a use-it-or-lose-it quality: memories that are called up and used frequently are least likely to be forgotten. Although transience might seem like a sign of memory weakness, brain scientists regard it as beneficial because it clears the brain of unused memories, making way for newer, more useful ones.

Absentmindedness. This type of forgetting occurs when you don't pay close enough attention. You forget where you just put your pen because you didn't focus on where you put it in the first place. You were thinking of something else (or, perhaps, nothing in particular), so your brain didn't encode the information securely. Absentmindedness also involves forgetting to do something at a prescribed time, like taking your medicine or keeping an appointment.

Blocking. Someone asks you a question and the answer is right on the tip of your tongue — you know that you know it, but you just can't think of it. This is perhaps the most familiar example of blocking, the temporary inability to retrieve a memory. In many cases, the barrier is a memory similar to the one you're looking for, and you retrieve the wrong one. This competing memory is so intrusive that you can't think of the memory you want. Scientists think that memory blocks become more common with age and that they account for the trouble older people have remembering other people's names. Research shows that people are able to retrieve about half of the blocked memories within just a minute.

Misattribution. This occurs when you remember something accurately in part, but misattribute some detail, like the time, place, or person involved. Another kind of misattribution occurs when you believe a thought you had was totally original when, in fact, it came from something you had previously read or heard but had forgotten about. This sort of misattribution explains cases of unintentional plagiarism, in which a writer passes off some information as original when he or she actually read it somewhere before. As with several other kinds of memory lapses, misattribution becomes more common with age. As you age, you absorb fewer details when acquiring information because you have somewhat more trouble concentrating and processing information rapidly. And as you grow older, your memories grow older as well. And old memories are especially prone to misattribution.

Suggestibility. This is the vulnerability of your memory to the power of suggestion — information that you learn about an occurrence after the fact becomes incorporated into your memory of the incident, even though you did not experience these details. Although little is known about exactly how suggestibility works in the brain, the suggestion fools your mind into thinking it's a real memory.

Bias. Even the sharpest memory isn't a flawless snapshot of reality. In your memory, your perceptions are filtered by your personal biases — experiences, beliefs, prior knowledge, and even your mood at the moment. Your biases affect your perceptions and experiences when they're being encoded in your brain. And when you retrieve a memory, your mood and other biases at that moment can influence what information you actually recall. Although everyone's attitudes and preconceived notions bias their memories, there's been virtually no research on the brain mechanisms behind memory bias or whether it becomes more common with age.

Persistence. Most people worry about forgetting things. But in some cases people are tormented by memories they wish they could forget, but can't. The persistence of memories of traumatic events, negative feelings, and ongoing fears is another form of memory problem. Some of these memories accurately reflect horrifying events, while others may be negative distortions of reality. People suffering from depression are particularly prone to having persistent, disturbing memories. So are people with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTSD can result from many different forms of traumatic exposure — for example, sexual abuse or wartime experiences. Flashbacks, which are persistent, intrusive memories of the traumatic event, are a core feature of PTSD.

An occasional memory slip is normal, says Johns Hopkins geriatrician Sevil Yasar, M.D., Ph.D. But as you age, these “senior moments” may leave you wondering whether you’re heading for dementia—the loss of memory and thinking skills severe enough to interfere with independent living, often due to Alzheimer’s disease or other brain changes.

“Stress, an extra-busy day, poor sleep and even some medications can interfere with making and recalling memories,” Yasar says. “And we all have moments when a name or the title of a movie is right on the tip of the tongue, but those events are different from the kinds of lapses that may be warning signs for dementia.”

Most of the time, memory lapses are nothing to worry about.

“But any time you’re concerned about yourself or a loved one, it’s worth talking with your doctor,” Yasar says.

So how can you tell the difference between simple slipups and something that may be more serious? The important thing to look for is persistent change in our ability to think and function. Below are 5 clues. 

Are you losing things and just can’t figure out where they went? We all misplace things. And yes, on a busy morning we may even put the cornflakes box in the refrigerator if we’re moving too fast. It’s normal to put things in the wrong spot, and it’s normal to catch the mistake or retrace our steps to find the keys sitting on top of today’s stack of mail.What’s not: Being unable to figure out where lost belongings might be, putting things in more and more unusual places and starting to suspect—without evidence—that people have stolen your missing possessions.

Do you get lost in familiar places? Losing the way while driving, walking or taking public transportation to a new place is normal. So is getting so absorbed in your journey (or your thoughts) that you have to reorient yourself to figure out exactly where you are.What’s not: “Driving or walking for a long time without realizing you’re lost or completely forgetting where you are, and not asking for help in these situation could  be a sign of dementia,” Yasar says. You may also forget how you got to a new location, become easily disoriented in familiar places, or lose the ability to read a map or follow landmarks and traffic signs.

Do you lose track of the time, date or season? Once in a while, we all forget what day of the week it is, but we usually remember or figure it out quickly. More troubling: not knowing what day it is, the time of day or how much time is passing—and not realizing that you’ve forgotten. Additionally, unable to remember appointments or even missing them despite putting it on the calendar or having received numerous reminders by family. These may be signs of dementia, according to Johns Hopkins experts.

Are your conversations getting stalled? We all have to search for the right word from time to time. “And it’s normal for this to happen more often as we get older,” Yasar notes. What’s not: extreme difficulty remembering words, calling things and people by the wrong words or names and withdrawing socially as a result. Having more and more trouble following, joining or continuing a conversation (you may stop talking mid-thought and not know what you were going to say next) or even following plot on TV may also be a red flag for dementia risk.

Do memory slipups interfere with daily life? Forgetting the name of your neighbor’s dog is normal. What’s not: No longer being able to do everyday activities the way you used to, and you now need help of your family or professionals, “If you used to balance your bank accounts to the penny and now you’ve lost track of where your household money is going, bills have not been paid and as a result electricity or phone service has been turned off. Similarly, you feel lost and overwhelmed making, or even worse, being unable to make, Thanksgiving pumpkin pie with your favorite longtime recipe, it may be a sign of early brain changes,” Yasar says.

And one of the biggest concerns, from a doctor’s point of view, is the issue with medication management, such as forgetting to take medications or taking them incorrectly.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Here are some possible causes your character may not remember things (apart from those you mentioned). Choose which would be most appropriate to incorporate in your story. Hope this helps and thank you for such kind words!

[samoankpoper21]

JJK Men as Passenger Princesses

IMAGE CTTO!!

Summary: Their car is in the shop and have no means of getting around until you offer to be their personal uber driver for the day. It strikes them that they've never seen you behind the wheel before, always opting to pick you up. What kind of chaos will ensue?

A/N: In California there's an unspoken rule where a yellow light translates to green 🤣 Don't ask me why 🤣 Also I do not condone/endorse speeding or reckless driving but my dad swears I am a reckless driver 🥲 As always the reader is a chubby!/POC! reader~! Enjoy~!!

Gojo Satoru: "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiii babe," leaning over he pecks your cheek, rubbing his hands up and down the length of his thighs. He's giddy with anticipation: this is the first time he's ever seen you drive! "Got your seatbelt on?"

"Of course." Putting the car in drive you slowly peel away from his apartment complex easing into traffic as conversation ebbed and flowed like water. He hadn't realized how relaxed he was until you put your hand on his thigh smirking. Jokingly he peels your hand away from his thigh throwing it back to you. "Excuse me! I am not some hussy where you can easily put your hands where your please."

"Breh really?"

"Don't 'breh' me. I am a princess today." Giggling you ask, "Well princess what do you feel like eating? I'm starving."

"I don't know you pick."

"No because every time I pick you disagree with it so where do you want to eat?"

"Are YOU part of the menu?"

"I meant food babe sheesh."

"I can't help it if you're sitting there looking like the finest chocolate pudding I've ever seen."

"Ew what," you giggle. "We're going to In-N-Out that's final." With Target being the last stop you pull into his parking spot where Satoru was going to instruct you to pull in but you surprised him when you put the gear in reverse, one hand on the back of his headrest, the other on the wheel reversing perfectly into the designated area. Putting the car in park you look at him scowling and say, "Alright baby let's-"

"Who the fuck are you fucking besides me?"

"Excuse me?!"

"How did you learn how to reverse perfectly like that? Is it Nanami? He's the only one I know who reverses like that?"

"Breh really?" 🤦🏽‍♀️

Kento Nanami: Nervous was the last adjective he would use to describe the nerves that were running through him at the moment. Anxious? Most accurate. He has never once been a passenger, always opting to give you the princess treatment regardless of his fatigue. "Come oooonnnn Nanamiiiiiiiii let me do this for you. It's the least I can do since you're always driving us around." Sighing in defeat he reluctantly agreed leading him to his current predicament; you zooming on the freeway as he gripped your door handle. Glancing over he watched your right hand on the wheel, the left propped up on the window sill holding your tilted head when it dawned on him that you were unaware of how fast you were actually going. This is how she normally drives?? Would he describe you as reckless? Slightly. No regards to anyone's life except your one? Leaning toward it. "Darling," he hisses out through gritted teeth.

"Yeah?"

"You do realize the speed limit is 65 right?"

"Yeah why?" Looking to your speedometer you gasp out, "Oh shit!" you were pulling 90 and not a cop car in sight. You sheepishly glance in his direction and say, "At least we didn't get pulled over."

Geto Suguru: Having the music low enough as to not disturb Nanako and Mimiko you and Suguru chatted quietly about all types of random topics. Being stuck in traffic always brought out the worst in every human and today was no exception. Bumper to bumper there was finally a break as the line of cars started flowing. "Finally." you huff out. As you pressed on the gas to accelerate a bit more a car cut in front of you jumping to the next lane over making you stomp on your brakes. "Mother-!"

"Babe the girls."

"That doesn't give him the right to drive like a maniac!"

"I'm just glad that we're all safe." At the top of your lungs you yell out while pointing at them, "You're lucky I have my kids in the car with me!"

"Babe the windows are rolled up." 🤦🏽‍♀️

Choso: "Babe is it alright if the kids come along?"

"Yuji, Megs, and Nobara?"

"Yes, they won't stop hounding me about watching you drive."

"Y'all need to chill" you laugh out speaking into the steering wheel. "Y'all make it seem like me driving is on the same level of the Mona Lisa."

"Well it kinda is."

"And who's fault is that? Every time I offer to meet you at whatever location you refuse saying and I quote, 'You're a princess and deserve to be treated like one.'"

"But you are."

"Cho," you squeal. "That's beside the point." Chuckling you couldn't help but blush at the deep timbre of his voice. "Well get the kids ready. I'm 5 minutes out."

"Ok. See you in a bit. Be safe."

"Always."

Pulling in front of the Itaodri house you found a lone, pale figure with a scar spreckled across his cheek surrounded by 2 overhype teens, one silently judging them. Rolling your window down youyell out, "Uber for Choso and co?"

"Here, here, here!" Yuji yells back. Parking the car you unlock the doors telling them to squeeze in the back, Choso sliding in beside you kissing your cheek. "Hi babe." the baritone in his voice making you internally shiver.

"Hi handsome. So where we off to?"

"Groceries, game stop for Megs, Target for Nobara, and maybe a gym store. Yuji wants some boxing gloves."

"Okay. But y'all better not judge me." Rolling her eyes Nobara asks, "Why would we judge you?" Offering her a sheepish grin while eyeing her in the rear view you answer, "I play my music real loud, sometimes have my own concerts and it's on shuffle." Dismissing your answer with a wave of her hand she retorts, "Please. Your shuffle can't be that bad."

"I listen to everything."

"Said by everyone." The drive to Target was approximately 20 minutes; within those 20 minutes your passengers went through a range of emotions: ready to fight (Set It Off - Lil Kayla), paying tribute to a late grandmother (Helena), felt like they were part of a rave (rampage), lost in translation twice (SKZ and a Samoan song), rapped along to Ice Cube, and finally belting out Keyshia Cole's Love. Parking the car you shut it off taking in your passengers. "Wow," Nobara breaks the silence. "You really do listen to everything." Laughing you look to Choso who quietly says, "You should sing to me more often."

Toji Fushiguro: "You're not gonna make it."

"Oh so you're doubting me now?"

"Look doll I've been driving longer than you have."

"Longer driving experience doesn't equate to greatness." You were doing 50MPH in a 35MPH trying to get to the green light before it turns yellow. The problem? You would need to make a wide left turn to continue about your ways. Stomping your foot on the gas the light turned yellow. "Y/N!" Toji hissed. Smirking you crossed the thresh hold while the light remained yellow; easing a bit you flicked the steering wheel to the left lifting off the throttle making the car careen smoothly into the lane. Quickly and simultaneously releasing the throttle and straightening the angle of your wheel you continued smooth sailing. A beat of silence passed before Toji huffed out, "That. was. FUCKING AWESOME! Where did you learn that babe?"

"Fuck you dawg you thought I wouldn't make it."

"Fuck babe that just turned me on so bad." Giggling you flick your head ahead. "There's an abandoned alleyway straight ahead. You can put that doubtful mouth to use."

"Yes ma'am."

Ryomen Sukuna: 3PM - 5PM on a weekday is practically the cursed time for anyone operating a vehicle: school buses fill the roads, drivers are trying to maneuver around other cars by any means necessary, taking short cuts or trying to wedge themselves into cramped spaces, horns blaring. Offering to take Sukuna to run his errands you now found yourself stuck bumper to bumper with rapper Mozzy playing in the background. You pressed on the gas inching forward a little when a tan colored mini coup cut you off, making you slam on your brakes and begin to fervently press your horn. Rolling down your window you yell out, "Don't know how to fucking signal asshole?! Use your fucking eyes next time!" You swerve into the left lane where you manage to pass the mini coup flipping the driver off in the process. Stunned Sukuna bellows out, "Remind me to never drive in front of you."

"Oh so you were thinking 'bout leaving huh? Because if you are I swear to god I will drive this car into incoming traffic and we both gon' be goners, how 'bout that?"

"Jesus chirst woman where did you even get that logic?! You're insane!"

"Okay and? You love my insane ass." Smirking he clasps your thigh squeezing it in agreement. "Damn straight I do."

©ALL WORKS BELONG TO SAMOANKPOPER21; ANY INFRINGEMENT OR PLAGIARISM WILL BE REPORTED!! DO NOT STEAL MY WORK!!

[genericpuff]

I am relatively new to Greek mythology, and I thought I'd start from a few somewhat lore accurate retellings [even if it is a retelling of a retelling lol (LR is amazing btw, it's always so great to anticipate the episodes!)] and I wanted to ask for clarification on the timeline (despite it ambiguity). Khione, goddess of winter time (as far as I recall, please do correct if I am wrong) existed during the titans as she was classified as a titan (in my memory!) however, winter was brought upon the mortal realm when Demeter's rage and sorrow manifested. I'm still rlly confused on that. Thank you btw!

aahh so. Khione is. one of those goddesses who kinda sorta doesn't exist lmao at least not in the way people talk about her as a "goddess of snow", the same way Despoina didn't exist in much of the same ways (like, she's also commonly referred to as a goddess of winter and frost despite those terms NEVER showing up in official sources about her.)

I will go on to explain BUT as always - I am not Greek, nor am I a trained academic on Greek myth material. This is largely my own speculation and current beliefs based on the research I've done over the years, which is always subject to change and grow. I do realize the irony that this post is gonna contain my own analyses and criticisms of misinformed beliefs about certain Greek myth deities from people who are just as formally educated as I am on the subject. If you disagree with any of my points or have anything to add that I overlooked, by all means please feel free to discuss in the comments. Otherwise, take everything I have to say here with grains of salt, remember to do your own research so that you're not making the same mistakes as the people I'm subtly criticizing by relying solely on one source of information.

There are a lot of mixed sources on Greek mythology, on account of both the cultural and political mixing that was happening during the time of Greek antiquity (the largest of which was the adoptions of many Hellenic myths by the Romans, which is why there are Roman counterparts of so many stories and Gods, ex. Hades = Pluto, Poseidon = Neptune, Ouranos = Uranus, Aphrodite = Venus, etc.) but ALSO because a lot of general understanding of Greek myth nowadays exists solely through the filter of pop culture adaptions and, well, the Internet, where people do in fact tell lies, even if they're rooted in some amount of half-truth 😅

Regarding Khione, she's more alike to that of Despoina, where the actual sources regarding her existence and role are very limited and, due to how others interpreted and misinterpreted those sources over the years, has resulted in "fake" versions of them being popularized and accepted as cold hard truth.

I've talked at length about Despoina before, there's a lot of debate over whether or not she was a goddess or simply an epithet which could refer to any other number of goddesses, including Persephone, Demeter, and Hecate. Her existence was largely sworn to secrecy as she was worshipped through The Eleusinian Mysteries, a cult of worshippers devoted to Demeter, Persephone, and god knows who else (they did in fact live up to their name, we still to this day barely know anything about them or what they did, they are a mystery LOL)

That said, a lot of people still run around with the singular committed belief that Despoina was the "goddess of winter and frost", a sister of Persephone, because... I actually don't know why, but I'm sure it started from some popular adaption that chose to depict her that way. Or maybe this singular belief just comes from Quora threads and misinformed strangers telling other misinformed strangers things that aren't wholly true but citing it as fact anyways.

Khione's affiliation as a goddess of snow kind of falls into the same camp of "yes, but also no". She's not a singular "goddess of winter", she certainly was NOT a Titan according to any of the limited sources that exist, and she didn't have any sort of "domain" over winter in the same way Demeter did over the harvest or Hades over the dead. Any claims as such are merely loose speculations with words like "probably" and "maybe".

At best we know she was a nymph associated with snow in some way that isn't 100% certain, either as a daughter of Boreas (the north wind) or as his consort. In some theories, she was both, as there could have very well been two of them, possibly mother and daughter, sharing the same name which is - surprise - just the Greek word for "snow", hence why people often default her as "the goddess of snow" and not simply what she more likely was, a nymph or deity associated with snow simply through the translation of her name and relation to the north wind.

(it should be noted btw that Greek deities and heroes sharing the same name happens a LOT and it's why it's always important to not stick to any singular "canon" as oftentimes all the various sources of culturally and politically relevant information are muddied by the game of Internet telephone and popular adaption.)

And all of that isn't even getting into what "winter" even meant within the context of Ancient Greece. I've also gone into speculative rants about this, but a "goddess of winter" by all accounts probably didn't even exist, because "winter" in Ancient Greece very likely wasn't the way we tend to envision it - an annual season of snowfall, holiday cheer, etc. - but was instead a period of drought. Demeter wasn't necessarily literally creating 'winter' through the manifestation of snow and ice, she was instead creating a period in which crops couldn't grow by not fulfilling her duties as the goddess of the harvest (after all, if Demeter was literally capable of creating snow and ice, why wouldn't we refer to her as such? As you said yourself, it wouldn't make a whole lot of sense for someone like Despoina or Khione to be the goddesses of winter when Demeter presumably already had control over that domain.)

"Harvest" and "drought" are both seasons in and of themselves, and the story of Demeter and Persephone was to explain the fluctuations of those farming seasons, not necessarily the definitions we rely on today where winter = snow. Persephone, by extension, wasn't necessarily the Goddess of Spring because she could directly create flowers and sunshine and rain - it was because her return to Demeter brought about the end of the drought, when Demeter would allow the harvest to continue, which served as our simplified understanding of 'spring'.

And if you need more proof of this, well, just go read the actual Hymn to Demeter. The word 'winter' is not mentioned once.

As for Khione, well... it's not that she didn't exist, there is source material about her, but it's incredibly minimal and, at best, just serves as a part of the overall picture, not the singular source. "Winter" - and all of the other seasons to boot - as the Ancient Greeks clearly tried to understand it wasn't through one single god, but an accumulation of many, across various communities, religions, and cultures that shared and adopted many beliefs from one another built on abstraction of thought and divine attribution for lack of clearer explanations at the time - through Demeter, who robbed them of the harvest and plunged them into famine for months every year; through Hades, who indirectly triggered these famines in his kidnapping and marriage to Persephone; through Zeus, who gave Hades his blessing to marry Persephone; through Boreas, one of four deities of the wind who specifically brought about the cold winds from the north; and through Khione, a nymph who was the consort and/or daughter of Boreas, whose name means 'snow' and who possibly had some affiliation with the cold and snow through her relation to Boreas who was linked to the northern regions of Greece which traditionally experienced the harshest winters and heaviest snowfalls.

phew

I realize that was a lot but I hope it helps clear up some of the confusion! And like I said in my above disclaimer, you def don't have to take everything I've said here as law or fact, more so another perspective on the matter that will hopefully at least lift the fog of confusion a bit. Being new to Greek myth can definitely be overwhelming on account of just how much there is to read and dissect, there are so many sources, articles, creative interpretations, and debates over these historical puzzles we don't even have all the pieces to because we're analyzing all of it in hindsight.

That said, it is still a lot of fun and I hope you enjoy the process of discovery and learning! I highly recommend also checking out /r/GreekMythology, Theoi, and the various translations that exist from authors like Robert Fagles, Robert Fitzgerald, and Emily Wilson :)

Good luck! <3

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[queerfables]

Alright GO fans, let's talk Sodom and Gomorrah. This biblical story comes up a few times in Good Omens canon, a kind of offhand mention each time, and the most interesting part to me is the implication that Aziraphale was there.

If you only know the cliff-notes version, you've probably heard it as the story of God condemning homosexuality to the point of wiping out several cities over it. Maybe you've heard this too, but - that's not exactly what happened. Look, I'm an atheist, I have no dog in this race. If I thought it was about smiting people for homosexuality, I'd be happy to call God a wanker and move on. But I've read the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (You can too! It's very short!) and I've read other parts of the Bible that reference it, and I think a much more straightforward interpretation is that it's about offering hospitality and protection to strangers. It's also about the consequences of wanton cruelty, and God laying waste to those deemed beyond salvation.

In Good Omens, the book, Aziraphale and Crowley discuss Sodom and Gomorrah this way:

"Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy," said Crowley sourly.

"Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?"

"Sure," said the demon. "There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-"

"I meant afterwards."

"Oh."

According to the book, then, Aziraphale at least saw the city after it was destroyed. Maybe Crowley saw the aftermath too or maybe he just heard about it. They both understand it as horrific.

The show is more direct, and suggests that Aziraphale was there during the actual destruction. Gabriel asks if Aziraphale remembers Sandalphon. Aziraphale does.

"Sodom and Gomorrah. You were doing a lot of smiting and turning people into salt. Hard to forget."

Aziraphale regards Sandalphon warily during the conversation. I believe we're supposed to interpret this scene based on the popular understanding of Sodom and Gomorrah as cities that God wiped out because of the inhabitants' sins. The obvious implication, then, is that Sandalphon is the heavy, the one called in to deal with disobedience. He's trigger-happy, relishes violence, and Aziraphale has seen what he's capable of. From the careful way Aziraphale discusses their prior acquaintance, I think he feels the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah was a tragedy and believes Heaven's actions were disproportionate and unjust.

I'm confident this is how we're supposed to read the scene. In the context of the story, we're supposed to understand that Aziraphale doesn't approve of the smiting, and that he feels threatened by Gabriel and Sandalphon coming into his bookshop and pressing him about Armageddon. But I'm fascinated by what it would mean if Aziraphale and Sandalphon's history really tracks onto the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. Because if Good Omens' version of Sodom and Gomorrah is at all biblically accurate, and if Aziraphale was there... it's kind of mind-blowing, actually, that he still feels so much compassion for the people who died and still thinks Sandalphon was wrong.

I'm going to explain why, but fair warning, it gets ugly. I promise nobody is actually raped, and I think that promise in itself says plenty.

According to the Bible, Sodom and its surrounding cities are accused of being overrun with sin. God sends two angels to Sodom to verify this, intending to destroy everything if they find it to be true. In the world of Good Omens, I think one of these angels must be Aziraphale. The other one is likely Sandalphon, but in the Bible it's God rather than either of the angels who rains down burning sulfur on the cities so it's possible it's someone else, and Sandalphon is only on smiting duty. Without anything else to go on, though, let's assume it's Sandalphon.

So our two angels arrive at Sodom in the evening, and at the gate to the city, they meet Lot. Lot is an immigrant who has made his home in Sodom, and I think the implication is that this is why he's not completely steeped in sin like everyone else. In any case, he immediately offers to put the angels up for the night, and although they'd planned to stay in the square, Lot is really insistent. He is a good host! Also, he knows the city is dangerous. So the angels go to his house and he makes dinner for them, and then before they can go to bed, a mob shows up at the door.

See, the men of Sodom have heard about the strangers staying with Lot. They surround his house and demand he hand them over. The New King James Version puts it this way: And they called to Lot and said to him, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may know them carnally." Several other translations say that the men wanted to "have sex with them". But I mean. It's a fucking mob. They've surrounded the house. We all get what this is, right?

So Lot goes out to meet the men, and he says "Don't do this terrible thing." Off to a good start! Then he says, "Tell you what, I have two virgin daughters. Do what you like to them and we'll say no more about it." Oh boy. Dad of the year award, right there. But still, he insists, "The angels are under my roof and my protection."

The men outside Lot's house are pissed. They say, "You're an outsider, who are you to judge us?" They threaten to do worse to him than to the angels. They swarm him and almost break the door down, but the angels pull him back inside.

The angels then strike the mob with blindness to stop them getting into the house. They say to Lot, "Look, you gotta take your family and get out of here. God sent us to see how bad things were and, uh, long story short, we're burning it all to the ground. You get it, right?"

Maybe you know the rest. Lot's son-in-laws don't believe him and won't leave the city. Lot's wife looks back and turns into a pillar of salt. Lot and his daughters take shelter in a small town called Zoar, and from there flee to the mountains. Everything else is destroyed.

It is a tragedy. The plains are leveled down to ash, until there's nothing left that can even grow. Was there really no one innocent in those cities? No children or animals? (You can't kill kids). Still, I think about that awful night under Lot's roof and I don't think I could blame anyone for giving up on all of it.

So what if that's the story? There were two angels in Sodom before it fell. What if it really was Aziraphale and Sandalphon, trapped through the night in a stranger's house, surrounded by men who want to rape them. Whatever their power as angels, that has to be terrifying.

If it was Sandalphon there with Aziraphale that night in Sodom, I have to wonder what he was like. There isn't any kinship or understanding from Aziraphale. Despite knowing the circumstances better than anyone, he still sees Sandalphon as a threat. Given that, I think Sandalphon must have taken a truly disturbing kind of joy in raining down vengeful fire and brimstone, beyond what you might expect from someone who was afraid or angry. Maybe he was never afraid; maybe instead he revelled in the violence building through the night as the reason he needed to tear everything down. Maybe he was afraid in the terrible way that exposes the depths someone will sink to to protect themselves (maybe offering his daughters was never Lot's idea). Or maybe Aziraphale just tried to reach out to him afterwards, to offer understanding and ask for some in return, and Sandalphon shot him down so coldly and viciously that Aziraphale knew immediately this wasn't something he was allowed to have feelings about. Whatever happened that night, it left Aziraphale feeling more of an outsider from Heaven than ever.

But if it happened that way, it happened this way too: Aziraphale survives a night like that, and when he looks out into the breaking dawn, he thinks, these cities don't deserve to burn. He sees the good in a place that's just shown him its absolute worst. I think that says everything about him as a character, actually. Of course he won't give up on Heaven. Of course he'll fight tooth and nail for his home on Earth. Whatever the worst is, there are still things worth saving. There are still, always, people worth protecting.

On that note, before I wrap this up, I want to go back to Lot's words to the men of Sodom, and draw a parallel that makes me feel some kind of way. Because when Lot declares the angels under his protection, what he says is essentially, "Do not do anything to these men, for they have come under the shadow of my roof for protection." And all I can think about, reading these lines, is Aziraphale standing in his bookshop as it's surrounded by hostile demons, and telling the angel under the shadow of his roof, "You came to me. I said I would protect you. And I will."

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

it is funny how Anne Rice constantly refers back to TVL via the text of TVA because she seems to have like. forgotten that she described Armand's recollection of his and Marius's first TVL meeting like this

as opposed to how she had him to describe it in TVA, like this

like I guess plot-wise it's not that big a difference because Armand ends up loving and trusting Marius regardless, but it feels pretty jarring to flip back from Andrei/Amadeo trusting Marius as a divine figure on sight to the older version of the story where he freaks out and begs not to be sold, begs to stay in the brothel, only to be more or less drained into submission.

like the most cynical version of what happened here is what I've seen described as Anne's push to make Marius a more palatable character, at least by her standards of palatable (kind of funny considering amc's full-steam-ahead push in the opposite direction twenty years later). there's also the significantly increased Christian element, which makes sense since Memnoch the Devil also deals a lot with her journey back to that faith and how she works it out in her writing. in-universe I guess you could just use the catch-all of "unreliable narrator," even theorize that TVL is less accurate because it's being conveyed by Lestat--but then again, all of TVA is being conveyed by David via transcription, so. the TVL version has the advantage of being more stream-of-consciousness, something that Armand's communicating in a mess of telepathic images instead of deliberately chosen words. Marius's return could be a factor here; Armand thought he was dead in TVL and has figured out he's alive by TVA, so his memories shift to a more positive light in response, perhaps out of fear (although he does talk shit about Marius plenty in this book) or his desire to reconnect, to present their relationship as fated and holy from the beginning. and he's committed enough to this reality that he doesn't even acknowledge the alternate version, if only to criticize it like he does with other parts of TVL elsewhere.

ntm that even if this is just because Anne forgot/retconned here, it's still an inadvertent foreshadow to the way show!Armand seems to have been deliberately written with difficulties in consistently remembering his backstory (the being sold/run down thing, as I've mentioned before). it'll be interesting (in a fucked up way) to see whether that instability extends to his memories of Marius and their relationship, especially in regards to the inevitable revelation that Marius is still alive.