#day 5: ritual gone wrong

[miley1442111]

believe me- a.hotchner (18+)

summary: aaron is there for you during a particularly difficult case.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: reader grew up in a cult, mention of hurting women, domestic violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, children in dangerous situations, miscarriages, abortions, women being treated awfully, i hate this it scares me (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

this is pretty dark so I will be saying it's 18+ only because of the content, please remember you manage what you consume, mdni.

not entirely proofread

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You sighed, walking into the bullpen. Another day. 

You sat down at your desk and started on your paperwork with as much enthusiasm as one would assume to be normal, but Aaron knew it wasn’t. He’d been watching you, they all had. The sunken eyes, dry skin, yawning at all hours of the day, refusing to stop working, refusing drinks or food, being ‘too busy’ to come for after work drinks. You had even stopped responding to his texts regarding Jack. You had always been the one on the team that Aaron was closest with, mostly because he was in love with you. Due to that, he also invited you over a lot to watch movies, bake, come to football games, etc with Jack. Jack adored you, probably more than he liked his own father (at least, that’s what Aaron thought). You hadn’t been texting or calling back. You two had gone on a few dates, at first he thought he had done something wrong, but then he watched you closer. It wasn’t him. 

Aaron stepped out of his office. “We have a new case, everyone meet in 5.”

You picked yourself up from your desk and followed him in, sitting in the chair furthest from him. 

“We have a new case, Dallas,” he announced. 4 images of women popped up on the screen, and you looked down, knowing exactly who and what they were. “4 women from the same family, killed in the same way, over one decade.” 

“Were they mother and children?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes,” you answered. “Their names are Delores, Tiffany, Riley, and Freya Howell and they all died via the head trauma they sustained in the ritual. The youngest was 17.” 

They all stared at you. You knew this was coming. You understood it.

“What ritual?” Aaron asked, looking straight at you. 

“The birthing,” you answered simply. 

“Why do you know about this?” Derek asked, just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

You pointed at the screen. “That’s my mother, that’s my little sister, that’s my older sister, and that’s my cousin. There’s no point in getting us in. No matter what we find they claim religious freedom and hide. It’s a cult and it’s about killing women. I work with children to get them out.”

“So you know people in the cult right now?”

“I lived in that cult. I know every single person on that compound's entire medical, familial, and social history. Including the Supreme Leader. Trust me, they have all the fucking permits they could ever need. I’ve been working with another group to try and take them down, but it doesn’t work.”

“We have to try,” Aaron said, stoic as ever. 

“It doesn’t matter what you throw at them, legally they’re untouchable,” you sighed. “If we really want to help, then we need to work on getting the children out.”

“We need to make them illegal then,” Aaron said matter-of-factly, and you just sighed. 

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On the plane, the team was wary of you, it was fine, you understood why. You had just told them that you grew up in the strange woman-killing cult you were now all going to investigate. 

“So what is ‘the ritual’?” Spencer asked. 

“When a woman is pregnant and they bring it to full-term, they are killed as their child enters the word. In the ‘teachings’ it is said to bring the child the strength of 2 people, and that they carry their mothers’ spirit. That’s why everyone’s middle name is their mothers’,” you explained. “See, it’s unusual for the women at the compound to bring children to full-term, at least, when I was there. And in the ‘teachings’, it was written that no women could get pregnant for years and years, but that one, the Supreme Leaders’ mother, could, and when he was in labour, he told her husband to bludgeon her. He did, and the Supreme Leader was born. They are trying desperately to have a new prophet. A new leader. So they began practising the ‘Ritual’ back when I was probably 12. Also, it’s difficult for women to get any kind of medical care in the compound, since they’ve rejected modern medicine, so it’s not uncommon for women to miscarry.”

“How old were you when you left?” Derek asked, the entire plane silent as you recounted your traumatic past. 

“18,” you explained. “I was one of the lucky ones. My mother was a teacher, before she joined the compound. She never wanted to join, it was always my dad’s idea. So she broke the rules. She taught us and another small group of children maths, English, history, and modern politics from any of the newspapers she could smuggle in. When we turned 18, they gave us a test. It was believed by the Supreme Leader that you were either born with the ability to write or not, and all of us in the group passed, so we were sent out to the world to recruit. We ran away. Found a place that they could never find us, cut all contact with each other, and moved on with our lives. I work with a few of them, trying to get children out, but for our own safety, we all act like we’ve never met before.”

“What happened to the others?”

“The ones who didn’t pass turned into husbands and wives, and then fathers. By the time I was 18 I was already married and on my second pregnancy,” you chuckled sadly. “He almost killed me when I said I was leaving to recruit. The men there, they’re taught to be violent. They’re taught to be animals. They’re taught to hurt women. My only saving grace was the ‘doc’. She was one of the eldest women in the compound. We all thought she was blind and half-dead. But she saved me. When I was about 2 months in, she picked me out of my bed and brought me to the edge of the compound walls. She asked me if I wanted the baby, I said no. She got rid of it. She made it look like a miscarriage.”

They were silent. 

“That’s what we’re up against. Years and years of sexual, physical, and mental abuse. A doctorate that no one believes but the men, and the men have all the power and strength. These women and children need help.”

“H-how many have you gotten out so far?” Penelope asked, tears in her eyes. 

“281,” you nodded. “And there’s still more.”

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Aaron walked you up to your room in the hotel. It had been a long day. You had been on speed dial the entire time, explaining everything to the entire team as you worked with your team on making a plan to evacuate all of the women and children. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been calling back, all of my weekends have kind of turned into… this,” you explained, looking down. “I do genuinely like you Aaron, but I’d understand if what you found out today is too much or-”

“It's not,” he assured you. “Thank you for your insight, and I’m sorry that you have it.”

You nodded, the motion bubbling up in your throat as you thought over the last 24 hours. “I hope we can help them,” you whispered. 

“We will,” he nodded, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as you cried into his chest. Aaron vowed something to himself right then and there, he’d always be there for you, no matter what. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Aaron helped you inside, helped you change into your pyjamas, helped you get ready for bed, and tucked you in, all while whispering words of encouragement. As you lay in bed, utterly exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, you found yourself reaching for Aaron’s hand. 

“Please stay,” you begged, your voice soft and small. 

How could he ever refuse? 

“Of course,” he whispered. Without a moment's pause, the bed dipped beside you, and Aaron opened his arms to accommodate for you. You settled yourself into his arms and pressed a kiss to his clavicle. 

“Thank you for believing me.”

“I’ll always believe you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[beetlejuicyy]

based on Hashira Training Arc ep. 5; I can't get this week's episode off my mind

w/c: 1.1k

find me on AO3 | masterlist

divider @enanet

summary: As Sanemi's wife, you try not to intervene in his relationship with his little brother. However, he had crossed the line this time.

Sanemi's favorite moment of the day was exactly now, during these two short hours at sunset, right after dinner. His day was full of training the demon slayer corps while his night was dedicated to his own training, fighting fellow hashira. That left exactly two hours in between for you, his wife. You were gone for most of the day lately, since training so many people was turning his yard into a battlefield, loud and dirty. You also knew he was rather harsh in his teachings, so it was best to give him space to do his duty while minding your own business.

"What's wrong with you?" Sanemi finally asked when you refused to let him lay his head on your lap.

It was the usual unwinding ritual of his day, eat your delicious food and relax under your touch, his features softened, his voice gentle, his touch careful and loving. But today you seemed cold. He tried to ignore all the signs until you put a book in your lap, just as he was sitting down next to you on the porch. This was Sanemi's last straw.

"What is wrong with you?!" You've never been this angry with him, at least you've never showed it so far. After the terrible day he had this was the last thing he needed, a moody wife.

"You're the one barely talking." Sanemi pointed out. He picked the book from your lap and put it away, annoyed. "You're the one choosing a stupid book instead of your husband."

"How was training today, Sanemi?" You asked, at last. It was the first question you asked him everyday, although the tone was different now. Accusing, angry and patronizing.

"Thanks for asking." He inssisted on expressing his bitterness before answering. "It was great."

"Was the part where you almost blinded your little brother for life great?"

Shock took over your husband's appearance, as his eyes widened, his hand frozen in the air, not daring to touch you anymore. You never got into their fights. Fight was a word not so suited for their relationship anyway. You tried to understand that Sanemi's behaviour was rooted in his own trauma while still trying to console and protect Genya as much as you could. But today, when Tanjiro of all people approached you on your way back home to tell you, you couldn't withstand it any longer.

"So the brat finally started snitching on me?"

The weight of your palm would have left a large red spot on his cheek if Sanemi wouldn't have swiftly caught your wrist when you almost slapped him. Tears were blurring your vision but you didn't want to let them fall. So you yanked your hand away from his grip, sniffing and trying to hold them back. Your husband had no idea how he was supposed to act, so he stood there, guilt and pity intertwined in his eyes as looked at you.

"Genya admires you the most, you idiot!" You wiped your tears away as you spoke. "He would never tell me anything bad about you, no matter how poorly you treat him." Sanemi's eyes could only dart towards the floor, his hands clenched in tight fists. "He only has you, how can you tell him you have no little brother? How can you seriously attack him? You know you're much stronger. How can you tell him to quit? All he wants is to be like you!" Accusations flew out of your mouth like daggers, stabbing him one after the other, forcing him to remember and see his actions from another point of view. "Have you..." Your voice broke off halfway as you voiced your  last thought, and your pain made him look up at you, worried. "Have you no heart?" You couldn't contain your tears anymore. Not when your mind was full of the contradiction between the man that was your husband and the man that was an older brother. How could he be so patient, so loving, so considerate with you yet be such a monster towards his own little brother?

A loud voice inside Sanemi's head was screaming to comfort you, to reassure you that he had a heart indeed and it all of it belonged to you. But, as small and helpless as you looked compared to his bigger, stronger build, he didn't dare to get closer to you. He didn't dare to move one finger. The time that was supposed to be the happiest of his day turned into painful silence, as you wiped your tears away and he was left to reflect on his actions. The sun was almost gone from the sky. The darker it got you remembered that Obanai was probably already waiting for your husband for their usual night training. 

"Don't you have anything to say?" You asked, afraid that Sanemi might actually leave without a word, making it even harder to reach him later when he would return. He wasn't good with expressing his feelings and towards you he would refrain from saying anything, scared that his poor choice of words would do more harm. But silence was even more harming.

"He needs to get stronger. I can't babysit him on the battlefield."

"You're not babysitting him at all." You sneered at him. However, his low voice and his effort to contain himself in front of you made your heart melt. He could be better, only if he tried.

"He can't weild a sword properly. He said he even ate demons."

"Don't you think it takes so much courage and strenght to do these things?"

Sanemi looked at you bewildered, his entire concept of strength crushing down inside his mind as you pointed out the obvious, the truth that was right in front of him but he was too blind, too caught up in his own world to see. He only sighed in defeat. His wife outsmarted him once again.

It was getting late and you still had to clean the table and tidy around before going to sleep. As you sat up and passed by him on your way, Sanemi caught you by the wrist. His gesture reminded you immediately of the previous moment when you almost slapped him, regret washing over you.

"Can I hold you for a moment?" He mumbled like a scolded child, not sure if he deserved it anymore. You pulled him in and his toned arms wrapped around your legs, his cheek pressed against your belly. You ran your hand through his hair as you felt the strong, almost desprate grip he had on you, like he was afraid you would leave. You didn't forgive him yet. But that could wait a few more moments. As his face nuzzled against the soft fabric of your clothes you realized he was still a big child in a man's body, unsure how to handle anything other than fighting.

"Sanemi." Contrary to the gentle touch of your fingers in his hair, your voice was stern. "Promise me you'll fix this when you come back."

He only nodded against your body before pulling away completely. Only after he was long gone you noticed the tears that left wet spots on your clothes.

next》》 Yearning | Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

🎃⁀➷ 31 days, 31 spooky prompts for Whumptober *ੈ✩‧₊˚🕷️🍂

1. ❝ don’t look, try not to show any fear as I tell you this, but I think that pumpkin behind you is alive, and it’s looking at us. ❞

2. ❝ please, I’m not crazy. that scarecrow is alive and it’s trying to kill me. you have to believe me. no one in this town is safe! ❞

3. ❝ you remember that body that was admitted to the morgue last night? the one that has human bite marks that looks nasty infected on the arm. yeah, well, this is going to sound insane, but it’s gone. the body’s missing. ❞

4. ❝ babe, you’re dead. this is the afterlife. we’re all ghosts here. ❞

5. ❝ do not come out of your room when it’s nighttime. no matter what you hear, you must stay in your room throughout the night. ❞

6. ❝ the bats, they’re biting and killing people. we have to run. now! ❞

7. ❝ is that a person sitting on the tree branch? why is she smiling like that? what’s wrong with her eyes? oh my god, she’s crawling down. oh my god, she’s crawling towards us! ❞

8. ❝ you haven’t heard of the blood moon curse? you must be new here. ❞

9. ❝ if you hear a voice calling your name from the woods at night, do not answer. ever. ❞

10. ❝ I got bitten, and I need you to kill me before I turn and become like them. please promise me you’ll kill me before I hurt anybody. please don’t let me be like them. ❞

11. ❝ no, don’t make eye contact with it. keep on walking, but do not run. ❞

12. ❝ there will be a ritual tonight and they will use you as a human sacrifice. you have to get out of here. ❞

13. ❝ shhh, she can’t see us, but she can hear us. be quiet. ❞

14. ❝ what do you mean the doll is alive? it’s just a doll. ❞

15. ❝ one of us is possessed. there’s one way to find out who. ❞

16. ❝ we’ve been walking in circle. we’ve walked past this house before. you see that lady in the window staring at us? she was also there the last time we walked past her property, staring at us through the window exactly like this. it’s like she hasn’t moved at all. ❞

17. ❝ you need my blood to stay alive. drink it. drink. or you die. ❞

18. ❝ I think there’s someone living in the walls. I can hear them breathing at night. ❞

19. ❝ this is a mistake. we should never have come here. the myth is real. we’ll never get out alive now. I’m sorry. gosh, I’m so sorry. ❞

20. ❝ if you see the shadow, you only have 3 days left to live. ❞

21. ❝ are those claw marks on the trees? they weren’t here last night when we set up the tent. ❞

22. ❝ I don’t think the blood on his clothes is fake, neither are the human organs in those jars. we have to get out of here. ❞

23. ❝ I’ve seen it all. the devil is real. it’s too late now. all of us are going to die tonight. ❞

24. ❝ they are not a cult. they’re my family. I’m not being brainwashed. let me go. let me go! ❞

25. ❝ what did you just inject me with? what’s in the syringe? what’s in the fcking syringe?!! ❞

26. ❝ those blood, it’s still fresh, meaning whoever — or whatever — killed it is still around. we have to keep moving, and we have to keep quiet. ❞

27. ❝ she doesn’t like her dolls to speak at night. if she hears your voice after 8 o’clock, she will rip your vocal cord out. ❞

28. ❝ there’s something in the mist. if you breathe, you die. ❞

29. ❝ look at me, hey, look at me, these people, they look like your friends and they sound like your friends. but they’re not your friends. your friends are dead. we cannot trust anybody. ❞

30. ❝ don’t get too close to the water. the fairies have very sharp teeth and strong grips. ❞

31. ❝ be careful in the full moon night. just… be very careful, alright? ❞

TAP HERE FOR; 31 DAYS, 31 TROPES FOR WHUMPTOBER

[xerotiny99]

―👾 territory one: wicked games.

.MINORS DO NOT INTERACT [18+].

Smut with plot. | Long chapters. | No use of [y/n]. | Detailed and graphic smut. | All smut-shots are in female reader's perspective. | Includes series and standalones.

[Misread the info catalogue? Go back to start here]

1.] Attention: Jeong Yunho x Female Reader

#1 Our Precious [slice of life au, college au, polygamy, reverse harem] ╰┈➤ sexcapades of a sophomore year college student while living with eight roommates who are equally freaky as her. What started off as pure physical arrangement soon turns to something more. Storyline following "Moon Angel" (female reader) and her eight "roommates".

1.] 2 AM Call: Jeong Yunho x Reader 2.] Game Night Gone Wrong: Jeong Yunho x Reader x Park Seonghwa 3.] Trouble in Paradise: Jeong Yunho x Reader 4.] Win Me a Bear: Choi Jongho x Reader 5.] House of Cards: Ateex Ot8 x Reader [no smut] 6.] The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day: Park Seonghwa x Reader x Jeong Yunho x Kang Yeosang 6.1] Feed Me Please, Daddy: Park Seonghwa x Reader 6.2] Down on My Knees: Kang Yeosang x Reader

#2 Guns & Roses [Mafia au] ╰┈➤ a florist, a cop, and a mafia boss; sounds good right? As if nothing could go wrong. Well, think again. Storyline based on mafia au, Jeong Yunho - Mafia boss, Female Reader (Kang Yeonhwa) - Florist, Park Seonghwa - Cop.

1.] Under the Stars, Beyond the Sea: Jeong Yunho x Reader

#3 Loving Professor Jeong [professor au] ╰┈➤ when the love-hate relationship between your favourite professor goes south. Storyline based on professor au, and reverse harem.

1.] Antiserum D: Jeong Yunho x Reader

#4 No Saint No Saviour [psychopath au] ╰┈➤ True evil, above all, is seductive. Yoon Dajung’s (reader) life gets weaved with certain people she never should’ve trusted. Ateez as Psychopaths; really dark and mature.

1.] Room for Two: Choi Jongho x Reader

Ethel Cain Series [2/4] ╰┈➤ my adaptations of ethel cain's songs into short imagines; follow dark themes.

1.] Knuckle Velvet: Jeong Yunho x Reader 2.] Strangers: Jeong Yunho x Reader

1.] Room for Two: Choi Jongho x Reader - wattpad request. 2.] Chasing Stars in the Dark: Jeong Yunho x Reader - wattpad request.

[deadonmayn]

In case you missed it in the boopening and dannypocalypes, we released the prompts! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted, there were so many good ones! We tried to provide a range of moods and prompts that we hope inspire you!

You can use any of the prompts for a day, none of them, the bonus prompts, or go for broke and use every prompt for a day! Remember that fan art, fic, moodboards, playlists, etc-- it's all game! We can't wait to see what you make! Here is all the prompts as one sheet. The text version is below the cut!

Dead on Mayn Week Sun May 19th- Sat May 25th

Day 1 - Sunday

Trope | Courting Rituals Word | Flickering Situation | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight. Dialogue | “Are they gone yet?”

Day 2 - Monday

Trope | Jason Has Magic Word | Ritual Situation | Danny and Jason are abducted by the same cult. Dialogue | “You were never monstrous to me.”

Day 3 - Tuesday

Trope | King Danny & Knight Jason Word | Blood blossoms Situation | Jason and Danny get stuck in a coffin together. Dialogue | “We may have come back wrong but at least we came back.”

Day 4 - Wednesday

Trope | Mistaken Identity Word | Inertia Situation | Love square (Danny/Jason/Phantom/Hood) Dialogue | “Don't call me that name.”

Day 5 - Thursday

Trope | Soulmates Word | Pretend Situation | Jason and Danny were childhood friends. Dialogue | “I never thought I'd see you again.”

Day 6 - Friday

Trope | Ecto-hunger Word | Core Injury Situation | Danny 'rescues' hood from the Bats. Dialogue | “Careful, he bites.”

Day 7g - Saturday

Trope | Accidental Child Acquisition Word | Ecto-parasite Situation | Jason is in Amity Park and meets the mysterious local hero. Dialogue | “I’m starting to understand why you didn’t want me to meet your family.”

Bonus Prompts

Trope | Danny heals the pit rage Word | Fangs Situation | Danny starts a fan blog featuring Red Hood. Dialogue | "Oh, it's probably a terrible idea. But it would be so funny."

[lunisoular]

Hello!!

I wanted to ask if you had any asl brother fanfictions??

I'm literally not even close to those episodes but I've seen so many spoilers and art about them that I'm already obsessed lmao

It's totally cool if you don't have any or just don't want to share, it just seems like you would know some good one lol

Hope you have a good day! 😁

SO SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE tumblr hasnt been notifying me lately

there’s so many fics i’ve gone insane over i’d be overjoyed to share !!!!!

i don’t know if u or anyone else want to avoid major spoilers, but just in case, i put a red star (*) next to those that have them 😗

light up, light up - taizi

aaah taizi has so many great fics but this is one of my favorites; u can go thru all their op works to find more i didn’t list. it’s focused around sabo and is like a role reversal. definitely teared up

a little murder never killed anybody - loserlife592

family reunion !! asl expresses their ways of affection and boggles some minds. so cute……..

a song to bring you home - taizi

canon divergence—not sure how much u’ve seen, but it’s definitely still worth the read. it’s wonderful and cute and makes me ILL

without you by my side - capisback

ace and luffy get into a small scuffle; ace figures things out eventually. brotherly love….. oh im dead on the floor it’s wonderful

fish day (it takes a village) - hyperbolicreverie

luffy drags ace and sabo to a festival. they have fun, there’s cool villager dialogue that never fails to satisfy me, and cuteness

*all for one - missmungoe

okay i have a fair amount of alternate marineford fics but damn it i am nothing if not a sucker for good endings. read if ur fine with slight spoilers lol !! good bonding moments

soft and quiet and peaceful - whirlybird70

snow day….. just some nice fluff. can never go wrong with that

where the wild things are - space_ghost_with_the_most

FRIEND GHOST HAS LOVELY FICS !! u should check them out !!! 23k words of feral jungle children asl and it’s WONDERFUL

light up the sky (with you) - whirlybird70

luffy once again drags ace and sabo to have an adventure, this time with fireworks !! + makino cameo. it’s so cute the way they’re written…. !!

bedtime rituals - poisonstain

sweet n soft sickfic…… the series is about something different, this is a flashback, so u can check out the other fics in it if u’d like !

signal lamps - cowboy_emoji

ace and luffy catch fireflies, dadan and luffy talk a bit about ace. luffys his weirdly perceptive self; dadan continues to deal with them. love <3

*take a step in mine - soccersarah01

another alternate marineford—if ur fine with spoilers, it’s good ! it takes a sec, but sweet asl reunion <3

*time moves through you - lampalot7

technically only ace and luffy but i’ve reread this one so many times. it does have both marineford and gear 5 spoilers tho, so keep that in mind if u want to avoid them. time travel, little luffy cameo, AUGH it’s all so cute

*there is thunder in our hearts / you were always gold to me - taizi

these are also both alternate marineford + the latter gear 5, sorry 🫢 i think u get the gist by now

put your faith in what you most believe in - taizi

taizi just has lovely asl fics it’s insane. sickfic, sabo worries, but they both feel better in the end <3

here in spirit - lampalot7

GHOST ASL FIC !!!!! i’ve loved it for a while, and it inspired a few aspects of my own ghost au. made me cry……. god i love ghosts

close calls (or, monkey d. dragon’s no good, very bad day) - isntitlupintic

dragon’s perspective and focuses a lot on him, but there are some sweet asl moments !!! dragon saves the day !

[lokisprettygirl]

Deadly Locks (Detective! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Au) (Dark )

Read Chapter 4 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary: Feelings resurface and more of your past with daemon is revealed as you take walks through the memory lane.

Trigger Warning: Rape and torture, 18+ , smut, It's a crime thriller so there would be some squeamish dark stuff, read at your own discretion, mention of rape, assault and murder, Speeding and driving under the influence, Reader has long hair, Daemon's hair is up for imagination, Cigarette consumption, some geographical errors

You knew, of course you knew about his past. You had been with him for five years and it took him a long time to open up to you about what he had been through and how awful his early childhood was.

“What does that mean Daemon..i mean what does it have to do with the killer?”

You asked him so he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair,

“I don't know..i mean i am not sure what it means..it could be just a coincidence but–” his eyes teared up so you scooted closer to him and held onto his hand, as he looked down to avoid the tears from slipping down his eyes you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him. That's when he broke down in tears, it wasn't just about this developing theory in his mind but the buildup of every little emotion he had been shoving away since you had broken his heart.

You were taken by a deranged man and he could have lost everything if he had lost you to such a tragedy. He had stayed strong these past few weeks for you, he didn't overreact or cry in your arms when he found you, even though every part of him wanted to fall apart and crumble he kept his cool. But now that you were holding onto him so tenderly like you used to before, he couldn't help but shed tears for everything that could have gone wrong in the past few weeks.

“im sorry..I'm so sorry” he mumbled between his sniffling so you pulled away from him and cupped his cheeks

“Why are you sorry ..you did nothing wrong”

“If I did nothing wrong then how come you're not mine anymore?”

You looked down as he said that, well there were plenty of things he didn't do right in the relationship and that was the reason why you had to let him go but you weren't expecting the conversation to take this turn. He wiped his tears before he got up from the couch to go to the guest room “Sleep well darling”

He mumbled before he left and as soon as he was out of sight you couldn't keep your tears at bay either.

You wanted to go sleep in your room but you didn't want to leave him alone when he felt this way so you walked inside his room, grabbed the comforter and slipped inside. He immediately had his arm around you as if he was waiting for you to do just this

“Talk to me” you mumbled softly. He wasn't good at sharing his troubles, he always wanted to take your problems away but he never really delved into his own.

“About what exactly?” he asked you so you sighed.

“About your mum, you never told me about the lullabies”

“Well there are plenty of details i didn't share because it's not worth my time anymore. I don't want to think about that time in my life”

“Okay then..what does it have to do with the killer?”

“Nothing .. perhaps I'm overthinking “

“It's not like you to overthink these things..you just know”

He couldn't help but smile as you said that to him. His head was a mess but he didn't want to think about it at all, he just wanted to get a peaceful sleep when you were right next to him like this. He had missed sharing a warm bed with you.

“I like this ritual of yours”

“What ritual?” you asked him as you felt confused.

“of you sneaking into my bed”

“Are you flirting with me Detective Daemon?”

“Shush you know I don't flirt”

“Mmhm”

He linked his fingers with yours and you immediately felt relaxed, that was always his way of showing that he cared even if he wasn't good with his words or promises.

And there were days when he really wasn't good with his promises.

You saw the door knob twisting so you wiped your tears, you didn't want him to see how much it had bothered you that he hadn't come home early especially when he had promised you that he would, you picked up the plates from the living room as he entered and you saw the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand but you didn't say a word and went into the kitchen again.

“Scrappy” he mumbled softly but you didn't respond to him, you pretended to be engrossed in the obsessive cleaning of the kitchen counter.

“Okay..I see you're upset and anxious”

You glared at him as he said that.

And as your eyes welled up again he placed the flowers down on the counter and walked closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from fidgeting.

“Don't do this. .I'm mad…I'm so very mad at you right now and I don't want to be held or be lured into your apologies and your…just let me go”

Your voice choked on your tears as you spoke to him and his eyes teared up as well. It was your birthday, you wanted him to be there but he got stuck with a case, he had to be at the crime site and he had to document every little thing, he had no clue when time had flown past him.

“No…I'm not letting go ..i know you don't want me to apologize but I'm going to”

“That won't make a difference..”

“I know..”

He wiped your tears from your cheeks as they rolled down incessantly, he despised hurting you this way and ever since he had been promoted he had been making a habit of doing this to you.

“I brought flowers”

“I can see”

“And I got kisses..do you want that? My birthday girl I'm so very sorry –” he mumbled sweetly and that only made you cry harder.

“I ..was drunk and I felt so lonely..”

“You had friends over– i thought “

“I don't need my friends when I'm drunk on my birthday I need you ..” you sniffled as you spoke so he wiped your tears and cupped your cheeks to kiss your forehead.

“Okay I'm sorry sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm sorry please” he mumbled against your mouth before he kissed you, his fingers clutched into your long hair as he pulled your head back to look at you, he wiped your tears before he dived into the kiss again.

“i miss you i feel like you don't even see me these days” you mumbled against his mouth

“We live together ..I see you everyday”

“That's not what I meant –”

“I know..” he kissed your neck as his hands slipped down your arms and he linked them with yours as tightly as he could, so tight as if he was afraid you'd leave him if wasn't holding onto you like that.

“I see you love…you're all I see..I'm sorry..what can I do hmm? What can I do for you, tell me what I can do to make you happy..my scrappy little love?” He whispered in your ear as he bit on your earlobe so you pulled away from him.

“Well …take a shower, get in bed and then you can show me how sorry you are ..”

Now when he looked back at the day he knew that was the beginning of the worst of it all, he should have been there for you in those little moments and he definitely should have been there with you during those rough days but he wasn't, he chose his work over you, he prioritized his work and he paid for it at the end when you couldn't take his broken promises anymore.

No amount of flowers, or kisses could have brought you back to him so he didn't even try.

Two years ago when you broke his heart and decided to leave he didn't even try to stop you from taking this step because a part of him always felt that you deserved better than him. So much better, you were everything and he was just some guy that didn't even deserve to be your man in the first place.

That night he really wanted to get a peaceful sleep but he couldn't sleep well, he had a dream about his childhood. It was a recurring dream he used to have a lot before, it was just one the earliest memories of his life

His mother had brought a new dress for him, his dada always told him that he was his precious boy but his mama..she never called him that, she always told him he was her pretty little girl, well she only told him that when she felt happy which didn't really happen that often. The dress she had gotten for him didn't look good on him, the make up she did on him didn't flatter him, he was a boy with boyish features and she hated that, she wanted a girl, a pretty girl, she wanted to give birth to a pretty girl like herself but he was a boy.

He saw himself wincing as she pulled on his hair to make pigtails but she got frustrated midway and then she started to scream at him.

“You're fucking ugly,..I can't believe I gave birth to you..no amount of makeup is going to change those hideous features”

She yelled at him but he was so little, so he immediately got scared and ran to her so she'd hold him..she was his mama right?

“Mama mama please don't be angry” she pushed him away as he started to cry and his cries attracted the attention of his father, then he heard them fighting and yelling, it wasn't until years later when he was able to comprehend what his mother was trying to do to him.

**********

Next morning when he woke up he was in a weird mood about the case.

He dropped you at the therapist's office so you wished him a good day at work but after the end of the hour as you stepped out you noticed that he had never left. And that was something you hadn't really expected from him.

As you sat down in the passenger seat you took a good look at him, he wasn't talking and it bothered you that you didn't really understand what was bothering him.

“You don't have to be on my service all the time Daemon. The therapy it's …ummm it's helping and i –”

You stopped speaking as you felt his eyes on you.

“I don't feel pity for you–”

“I never said that–”

“But you're thinking about it.. constantly”

Well he wasn't wrong.

“..I am here because I want to be here..I want to be…close to you”

Your eyes teared up as he said that. A bitter laugh escaped your throat as the memories of the past flooded your mind.

“So you didn't want to be close to me before when you chose your work over me time n again?”

“You have no clue how much I needed you in my life–”

“It didn't really feel that way at times” he sighed as you said that. His knuckles strained as he clutched onto the steering wheel with a death grip.

“I just thought you were mine…for life..for this life ..i thought I had you .. and that you'd always be home no matter at what time I go in there and that was my fault…you didn't deserve a man like that in your life..you didn't deserve to be taken for granted”

You didn't say anything for a while as he said that, he knew where your relationship with him had fallen apart but that didn't hurt you any less. Breaking up with a man you were so crazily in love with wasn't an easy choice to make.

“It was perfect whenever you were there .. everything felt perfect when I had you but I didn't have you with me more than i ever had you with me and that broke my heart..repeatedly”

That day when you went home he told you that he'd come early in the evening and that you didn't have to worry as the cops were outside the house. You were getting bored out of your mind so you looked around the house, he still had his work desk in the living room, the desk that used to put him up at nights a lot of times that he wouldn't even get in bed with you.

You opened the drawer under the desk and there was a picture of you and him from seven years ago. It was taken in a club, you remembered that day clear as today because of the conversation you had with him. He really was an enigma during those early stages of your relationship with him. He still was the same but he was your enigma, the woman you were now knew that man inside out unlike the woman in the picture.

“Shots shots shots..lets go” Donna yelled amidst the loud music so you all took a shot, your face scrunched in disgust at the bitter content of the glass. You were at a nightclub with your friend group to celebrate Donna's engagement. She was engaged to this high profile detective named Otto Hightower, even though he was much older than her they made a perfect pair.

“Oh there he is …your weird police guy” you glared at her as she said that.

“He's not weird…shutup”

“Well he sure looks as if he has never step a foot in a club”

You shook your head as you stepped down from the stool and swam between the crowd of people to get to him, as soon as he saw you there was a clear sign of instant relief on his face.

You had been dating him for just two months, there were still things you didn't know about him.

“Hey there” you hugged him before you kissed him and he was taken aback for a moment before he reciprocated. He had a black leather jacket on with blue jeans and he looked hot as hell. And you really wanted him to stop being such a gentleman and fuck you tonight.

“Are you drunk already?” he asked you as he pulled away from you so you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Maybe.. want to take advantage of me, officer?”

His brows furrowed as you said that before he realized that you were joking, his cheeks turned pink so he looked down but then he looked around, he felt like an alien in that place.

“What is it?” You giggled as you spoke to him so he shook his head.

“Nothing..i…what are we supposed to do here?” he asked you, there was a tinge of nervousness in his voice.

“Dancing of course.. and drinking of course”

“Alright..” you smiled as you looked at him before your brows raised curiously

“Ummm Daemon?”

“Hmmm?”

“You have been to clubs before right?” His face flushed again as you questioned him and as you noticed that he was embarrassed you quickly pulled him closer to kiss him. “Godd You're so adorable.. i love you” his eyes widened as you said that to him but then you were drunk so he didn't take your words to heart even though he really wanted to.

“You're drunk” you giggled as he said that. Did you just confess your love for him? Yeah you did.

“So first time huh?”

“Yeah I'm sorry..are you going to make fun of me with your friends when you go back there..” he asked you and it made you smile.

“Do I seem like that girl?”

“What girl?”

“The type who'd make fun of her boyfriend behind his back?”

“No..you're .. amazing.. and beautiful and an angel..though you piss me off at times when you're being all scrappy and reckless but I love that..i love everything about you and i love you ..ummm no sorry you don't seem the type to do such a thing”

A wide smile graced your features as you heard him rambling.

“And you're not even drunk”

Before you could make him blush further he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply. You were too much at times, too good for him, too sweet to him, too affectionate verbally and physically that he felt suffocated by your sheer energy around him but then he was getting addicted to that feeling, it got him all high and floaty in his head.

But he obviously didn't fuck you that night.

He was on his way home early like he had promised when he received a very frantic call from Rebecca, she sounded utterly distressed and that worried him.

“Daemon I'm so scared there's a man outside and I don't know what he wants” her voice was full of fear as she spoke on the phone.

“Where are the cops dear?”

“They're not here…I don't know “

He immediately turned the car around as she said that. He had promised to look out for her and he didn't want anything to happen to her. As soon as he reached her house he saw the police car outside the house so he went to talk to them and reprimanded them for leaving but they told him that they had been there throughout their shift and at least one of them had stayed in the past three hours.

He wanted to check on her now that he was there so he knocked on her door and when she opened she seemed fine, albeit a bit scared.

“Rebecca are you alright?” He asked her so she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the house before she locked it.

“Somebody was out there Daemon I'm so scared” she immediately hugged him and put him off immediately.

“I talked to my guys out there …they said they were here”

She pulled away to look at him as he said that.

“No they…they're lying..why would I lie ?”

She started to cry again so he placed his hands on her shoulders to comfort her.

“I am not saying that you lied…let's just…sit down and get you some water okay?” He made her sit down on the couch and brought her a glass of water from the kitchen.

“I don't trust them…they look at me weirdly and it's just–”

“Did they do something? Said something?”

“No but please I can't be alone..I just feel so scared all the time–”

“I know it's tough but I have promised that I won't let him hurt you again right?”

She nodded as he said that before she held onto his hand and stood up to hug him again.

“I feel safe with you..i know you'd never hurt me..”

He didn't really know how to react as she clutched onto him. She has been through hell and he didn't want to add to it but she really needed to set a boundary.

“Rebecca I need you to listen to me, I'm doing my best to catch him and I won't rest until I have him”

He pulled her away from him but she didn't let go, instead she leaned into him to kiss him, that's when he knew he had to speak up.

“What are you doing?” He asked her sternly, his voice changed from the usual calm to suddenly agitated

“I see the way you look at me Daemon, and I feel the same–”

“You're wrong, so absurdly wrong here. Jesus …get off me” he walked out of the house immediately after that. He didn't really want to deal with this situation when he had a million other things in his mind.

When he came back home he found you in the kitchen making dinner and his sullen mood got better instantly. His life would have been so much better if you still belonged to him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him so he hummed and went to the bedroom to take a shower. The sketch he had gotten made for the woman in the killer's house was everywhere but if it was the killer himself then he knew it would be hard to find him without that wig and heavy makeup even though the whole city was on high alert.

After dinner as you went to your cold bed you tried to sleep there even though you just wanted to sneak into his bed like you had done for the past nights. The ring was still on your mind, the way he talked to you today made you feel as if he still wanted you in his life but then it had been two years. Nothing has changed, he still was the same busy workaholic man that you had left for your own good but he was trying to be there for you. He was handling the biggest case of his life but he was still making time for you and you knew he was trying.

You just didn't understand why.

About an hour later as you heard your door knob twisting you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep. His footsteps reached closer to the bed and then the familiar scent of his tom ford cologne filled your senses. The mattress dipped as he sat down on the bed and you felt the tension around him, not the kind you'd have wanted though. You could just feel that he was tense and worried. Perhaps overwhelmed.

Like a gentleman he covered you with the duvet before he ran his fingers through your hair and then kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight scrappy”

Before he could get away you reached out for him to grab his forearm and he turned around to look at you.

“Always a gentleman aren't you?” You gave him a small smile so he returned it before he sat down again “What's bothering you?”

“Just work, there's a lot of pressure, Otto told me that they'd be bringing in another detective on the case to aid me because I'm not getting anywhere”

You sat up as he said that.

“He can't do that, he knows how valuable you are for his team..you're not just another policeman, you're gifted and i know sooner or later you'd get him”

“Apparently not because I'm so clueless right now”

“Now isn't forever, you're clueless in the moment but you'll get there i know” he gave you a small smile as you motivated him.

“I really want to bring justice to those women but most of all you–”

“I know –”

Your eyes teared up so he placed his hand on your cheek and as he rubbed his thumb over your skin you couldn't help but lean into the touch.

“Were you going to call me ..on my birthday?” you asked him out of nowhere so he took a moment before he answered you.

“I really wanted to..I only thought of you all night long, a part of me felt something but I chalked it up to anxiety.. would you have invited me?”

“Not if you were seeing someone”

He chuckled as you said that.

You didn't say a word after that but laid down and then moved to the side so he could get into the bed with you and he didn't deny either. You maintained your distance for a good five minutes before you scooted closer to him and he wrapped his safe protective arm around you. And just like that both of you felt better. So much better.

A week later there was a Christmas party being held at the precinct so he asked you if you'd like to go with him.

Now you had been to plenty of parties with him before but you were his girlfriend back then, you knew the guys he worked with but you also knew that they won't look at you the same way after what you had been through. You still accepted his invitation, however as you got dressed up after a long time and put the makeup on, you felt nervous and scared, you didn't want to go anymore.

When he entered the room and saw you in that red and black dress his breath shuddered but then he also saw tears in your beautiful eyes so he walked closer to you.

He had a formal black suit on and he looked handsome as ever, when you had met him he was so young and boyish like most men are in their early twenties but now he had filled into his looks and that had only made him more handsome if it was possible.

“I think you should go alone” you said to him so he sighed,

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing I just…I don't want to freak out over something and embarrass you–”

You walked past him as you mumbled so he followed you in the living room. He found you rearranging his desk and he knew you felt anxious, that's what you did whenever you felt so extremely anxious that you were close to panicking.

“Y/n–” he called your name so you spoke immediately.

“Just go ..I'm fine i promise.. you'll get late”

“Y/n” he closed the distance between you two and turned you around so you'd keep your eyes on him. He sat you down on the desk by hoisting you up before he cupped your cheeks between his palms.

“Breathe darling..you're okay..you're okay i promise”

He cooed in your ears so you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. You weren't always like this but that man had changed you forever, you didn't even know if you'd ever get your old self back or if you'd ever feel the way you used to about life. A life where you didn't feel such immense fear all the time. Once your breathing leveled down you pulled away from him

“Thank you” you mumbled softly so he leaned down to kiss your forehead but he couldn't stop staring at your lips, your fingers traced from his chin to the outline of his tie as you looked up at him.

“You could never embarrass me, i need you to remember that alright?”

You nodded as he said that “We don't have to go, we'll stay here–”

“You should go Daemon-”

“No. I'm not leaving again”

“Then I'll come ..let's go..I'm fine i promise..I want to go out and i don't want to be so afraid”

“Are you sure?” He asked you softly so you nodded in response “I'd be there, right next to you”

On the way to the party you couldn't stop staring at him. He wanted to kiss you right? You didn't imagine or make believe the way he looked at you, right? Did he still feel anything for you? Love maybe? Maybe you should just confront him about the ring because if he had someone in his life you'd hate to be the sort of person that'd wreck a relationship.

But if he had someone would he keep you in his home? Sleep with you in the same bed? Would he take you to the party when he could have taken his girlfriend? You felt crazy, absolutely crazy having all these thoughts in your head.

As you reached the venue there were several familiar faces around and they all smiled at you which made you feel slightly at ease.

“They will think we are back together”

He chuckled as you said that.

“Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world”

As soon as Donna spotted you she came to hug you, and Otto wished you Merry Christmas as well to which you responded with a greeting and a smile. You wanted to go get a drink so you excused yourself. Daemon had offered to bring it for you but you didn't want to be so dependent on him .

“She seems better”

Donna said to Daemon so he looked at you as you were getting your drink made at the bar.

“She's healing slowly”

“Man i have to ask..what's going on between you two?” she asked him so he chuckled in response.

“Nothing. We are friends I think”

“Oh really” she let out a laugh so he rolled his eyes at her. He watched you from a distance as Torres met up with you. Torres was in school with you and then she worked as a traffic police officer along with him so you both knew her, she had moved on to work in law a few years ago. He watched you smile as you talked to her and his eyes teared up.

“She doesn't giggle anymore” Daemon spoke under his breath so Donna looked at him.

“What?”

“She used to giggle..all the time..she doesn't do that anymore..that saddens me” she sighed as he said that.

“Well that's more to do with you then what happened..she never really was the same since the night of her birthday two years ago”

She was your friend ofcourse she knew. As Torres approached him he composed himself and hugged her as he hadn't seen her in a while.

“Where's Jake?” He asked Torres so she looked around.

“Your trainee? Ahh I saw him outside with a girl ..”

Daemon smiled as she said that. Jake was a shy decent guy and never really got involved with women that often so that came as a surprise.

As his phone rang in his pocket he excused himself and stepped away to pick it up as the call was from an unknown number and the voice on the other side was unrecognizable.

“You don't recognise me do you brother..? We have met already though” as soon as Daemon heard that he looked around “Don't bother tracing the call, i won't be around too long. Just wanted to send you my wishes for the festival and tell y/n that I miss her sloppy cunt, too bad i wasn't able to skin her alive”

Daemon's jaw clenched in anger as he heard the killer's voice for the first time. The way he talked about you only fueled his anger further.

“You really think you're so bloody clever huh?”

Daemon said as he felt utterly pissed off. However what the killer said next confused him for a moment but then it also made things pretty transparent for him. He knew where he had to go for all the answers that he was so desperately searching for.

“Ohh by the way give my regards to mother when you see her next”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@daddylokisqueen @iamavailablesstuff @123forgottherest @mcufan72 @shuichiakainx @avalyaaa @ajthefujoshi @tatertati-fangirl @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge134 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ammo23

[countrymusiclover]

Gemini Runaway

"Being a twin of the Gemini Coven is a curse to never have children."

Raelyn Primrose Lane is on the run from her own family. She isn't trusting of anyone she comes in contact with all because she was forced to kill her twin sibling recently. Raelyn stumbles into the town of Mystic Falls and starts making friends. Alongside catching the eye of the original hybrid Klaus Mikaelson. Will Raelyn let Klaus in her heart or will her family manage to catch their traitor of a daughter

1 - Vow to never have Children

2 - Getting to know Him

3 - Original Vampires

4 - Blonde Friends

5 - A Hybrid's Offer

6 - Homecoming

7 - Abominations

8 - Date with an Original Hybrid

9 - Haunting Vengeance

10 - The Original Coffins

11 - Intense Family Reunion

12 - My First Friend

13 - The Mikaelson Ball

14 - Gemini Business

15 - Esther's Ritual

16 - You Only Live Once

17 - My Cousin Jo

18 - Tricky Witches Spells

19 - My Life Or Theirs

20 - One Last Hurrah

21 - The Ultimate Hunter

22 - Three Words Longed For

23 - The Bonds of Family

24 - The Sights of New Orleans

25 - A Dangerous Encounter

26 - A Coven’s Leader

27 - Dead or Alive

28 - The Miracle…Baby

29 - Sweet Vampire-Witch

30 - What's Wrong With Raelyn?

31 - Raelyn Let Loose

32 - Bringing Her Humanity Back

33 - Kol's Downfall

34 - Who Makes Him Human

35 - Finding the Cure

36 - Evening in the French Quarter

37 - A Harvest Ritual

38 - Davina - The Attic Witch

39 - Impatient Witches

40 - The Fate of Three Children

41 - Blood of Enemies

42 - Never Truly Gone

43 - A Magical Favor

44 - Papa Original and Confind Spaces

45 - Babies and a Ring

46 - Big Milestone and Mysterious Woman

47 - Proper Family Meeting

48 - Official Wedding Planner

49 - Uniting Friendships

50 - I Forever, I Do

51 - Our Secret Weapons

52 - Betrayal Can Come From Anywhere

53 - Dahlia's Offer

54 - Getting What They Deserve

55 - Vampires to a Witch Fight

56 - The Magical Border

57 - The Gemini Portland House

58 - Message For The Sire

59 - Red Head From His Past

60 - Sisterly Trio

61 - A Mikaelson Thanksgiving

62 - To Getting Rebekah Back

63 - Aurora's Revenge

64 - A Christmas Hex

65 - Vampire Camille

66 - Rescuing Klaus

67 - A Caring Vamp Sire

68 - King and Queen

69 - The Trial of Klaus Mikaelson

70 - Fighting the Magical Border

71 - Mikaelson’s before Gemini

72 - Kai's Message

73 - We're Screwed

74 - Gemini Fights and Supernatural Fates

75 - I Will Rescue You

76 - Moment of Peace

77 - The Horrific Merge

78 - Finally a Family Reunion

79 - A Long Awaited Evening

80 - One Day of Peace

81 - Gemini Downfall Wedding

82 - Finding the Heretics

83 - Heretics in Mystic Falls

84 - Meeting one of the Heretics

85 - Another Vampire Pregnancy

86 - Calling Us Home

87 - What's the Hollow

88 - Bloodline Deals

89 - The Last Remaining Gemini

90 - Parker/Lane Family Reunion

91 - A Family Dessert War

92 - Bye bye Hollow

93 - The End of Always and Forever

94 - Anything For Our Children- Flashback

95 - Running the School

96 - Family Troubles

97 - Unexpected Visitor

98 - The Family Falling Out

99 - Missing Coffins

100 - Not Little Girls Anymore

101 - Red Roses and Blood

102 - Owner of the Golden Coin

103 - A Rescuing Price

104 - Working through Changes

105 - Alina Mikaelson - Keener

106 - Changes under the Moon

107 - To Getting Elijah Back

108 - Like Father Like Daughters

109 - Always and Forever Lives On

---------- read part 100 to get the link to the next parts (you can only link 100 parts) 😢

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality @ocappreciation @ocappreciationtag @kmc1989 @tallrock35

[daughter-of-prospero]

Jonah Rant

Someone on Youtube reminded me that I rage-typed an essay-length tirade about Jonah Magnus and his status as a certified Bastard Man right after the finale. They asked if there was a chance they could see it, which was a good question because did I even still have it? Turns out: Yes! It’s evidently been chilling in Onedrive for ~2 years. So for those who wish, my thoughts regarding that awful little man are below.

Spoilers for The Magnus Archives.

I went into the finale fully ready to not hear from Jonah again. I thought ‘oh, cosmic horror, as important as he thinks he is, he’s inconsequential and John just zaps him with eye lasers or something’. I didn’t want it per se, but I thought it was plausible.

But no. Oh no. Jonah Magnus speaks again, and he hasn’t been around for all of season 5. We heard him on a recording and we heard him chanting in the background and also all distorted in a job interview flashback, but there has been no actual uncompelled words being spoken by Jonah Magnus in real time since 159.

Yes he wrote the incantation but, rather crucially, he did not read it.

I binged TMA right as it got up to the season 4 finale. I got through season 1 in one day, and season 2 the next, and then got through three and four in the days after that. I caught up just in time for 160 to drop.

So I, foolish, naïve baby that I was, had over a year to forget what this character actually sounded like, and just how much of a slimy, insufferable fucker Jonah Magnus is. Was. Bitch.

I’ve gone into this elsewhere so I won’t belabor it but one of the reasons I’m so viscerally miffed by him is because of every human character in this podcast, he is the only one that is never shown sympathetically. I’m not counting Nikola Orsinov, or NotThems, or other manifestations of the Entities. I mean of the human, or avatar-human characters he is the least grey. Morality in this show is complex and tough to think about in my brain and one of the great ways it does this is through having really layered characters with motivations that are, at least a little, understandable. Jude Perry was a violent, sadistic lady...she was also devoted to Agnes and in some ways I think you could argue they were each other’s only links to humanity until what’s-his-name came along. Coffee shop Himbo guy. Peter Lukas is a misanthrope to the max who will send people into a nether realm if they so much as look at him wrong – which is to say, look at him at all. He was also raised to know nothing but loneliness, and pursuing it was kind of the only way he ever got some sort of approval. Which also manifested as more distance.

We get these little nuggets of what brought a villain where they are now, and we certainly don’t have to excuse them, but we have some context. We have some understanding that there is humanity in there, and that understanding makes them all the more unsettling.

Not fuckin’ Jonah.

What do we know about him? He’s a couple centuries old. Great. He found out about the powers, was drawn to the eye, and decided to start body-hopping to cheat death. He’s been doing this for ages. He tried a ritual and it failed. He took his time then, plotting and planning, and being smug, and finally arriving at a hypothesis that had a lot of credence to it. Everything fell into place, he was right, its all or nothing with the entities but the Eye rules because it opened the door (or WHATEVER).

So his big motivator is he doesn’t want to die.

And you know what, this is super understandable. We don’t know what his childhood was like (Jesus, can you imagine him in a little powder wig, climbing a tree to get a high vantage point to spy on people and get blackmail on them?), but fear of death is almost universal.

And of all the billions of people on this planet, I cannot help but notice that we are not thwarting narcissistic necromancers every fifteen minutes. Because the world would have fucking exploded a long, long time ago if we had more Jonahs in it. i.e. the people who would make aggressive selfishness a full-time occupation.

There’s a sort of cocktail of shit that makes him a memorable baddie not the least of which is that he never even attempts to justify his abhorrent actions. He’s not lying to himself, or anyone else, he’s not serving a cult, or a bunch of worms. He’s in it for himself, and if he has to stack the corpses of every living thing on the planet to reach immortality he’ll fucking do it without hesitation. Couple that with his manipulations, his merciless psychological torture, and a low, smooth voice that is always so infuriatingly composed and you have a Hell of a villain.

(I maintain that one of the reasons he’s so effective is that he enunciates so carefully. He doesn’t run words together, or mumble, he never really raises his voice, he is always in control, and everything is a flex right down to the articulation. I feel like we associate crisp, clear speech with formality, presidential addresses, or theater, things like that. Where you know what you are going to say and so the recitation is more confident. We hear this happen in statements, to a certain extent, but there’s still a lot of emotional range. For 199 episodes we never heard Jonah lose this pointed, smarmy tone. People don’t talk so formally in life, or when they’re talking on the podcast. There is something unsettling and intimidating about hearing such clear and confident speech all the time. It sounds like he knows exactly what to say in any situation. It sounds like he is utterly confident in every word that leaves his mouth. It sounds like he’s in a scene and no one else got the script but him. Because that is kinda what’s going on. At the very least, he thinks that’s what’s going on)

When he drops from wherever he’s suspended in the panopticon, he, you know, sort of makes a noise because that’s gotta be jarring. And we for once, for once, for fucking ONCE hear him even vaguely uncertain. And stupido io, I thought he was finally brought low and we might get a tantrum or something.

But no. Jonah Magnus has a lot of lost time to make up for, it’s been 20 eps since he’s been able to serenade everyone with his unique brand of horny arrogance. This motherfucker has exactly a millisecond of confusion and grogginess before “I was having the most...wonderful dream”. You can hear him edging.

And he’s kiiiiind of surprised to see John by himself with a knife, but still, so blasé, so, ‘oh, is that all?’ He’s a liiiiitle regretful to hear it’s over, but immediately heads into waxing rhapsodic about seeing a thousand lifetimes and the rapture of infinite sight and suffering and other Hellraiser shit when John speaks for all of us and tells him to shut up. Yet another reason to respect him.

And John has a lovely little catharsis where he gets to tell this orchestrator of his despair that Jonah has failed because the Things that Jonah is so devoted to will die a slow death. How long has he been waiting to say that, do you think? I mean at this point there’s nothing that could do what he’s probably feeling justice but he says it himself he gets some satisfaction from “knowing that I’ll be leaving these things that you serve trapped and starving in their own private hell.”

And all Jonah has to say is: “That we serve.” To the bitter, bitter end he is determined to just...okay I was gonna say twist the knife but that seems a bit tasteless now...determined to cause even more hurt. He cannot resist, it’s kind of all he knows. He is at the edge of a cliff and taunting the person that’s about to push him off of it.

And if you ever need a posterchild for ‘hubris’ just pull up a sound clip of Jonah Magnus. He tries to play the old ‘alright, playtime’s over,’ card, brushing the dust and what-the-fuck-ever else off his suit and manipulate John again. He has the...not even audacity, he’s looped back around from being semi-omniscient, to being so confident in that omniscience he thinks he knows everything and therefore acts way more stupidly than someone without that surety. He is enough of a dipshit to try and say to John “we both know you don’t have it in you”.

Motherfucker, what have you been doing for this entire season? What have you been doing this entire show? You have purposefully created someone who has withstood the brunt of every entity and come out more or less intact. You purposefully guided him into honing his powers, and put him in a position where he has nothing to lose. Well, Martin, but Jonah can’t do anything about that. Not anymore. Because the one person who can protect Martin is coincidentally the same person who can, will, and reeeeeally wants to Kill Jonah.

“King of a ruined world and I shall never die” my ass. King? Really? You were a placeholder, my dude. The Eye didn’t give a fuck that you were at the top of the panopticon and it didn’t give a fuck when John pulled you out of it. You said it yourself, dipshit. You might have started the archives, but John IS the archives. He is the only person more powerful than Jonah and Jonah, of all people, should know this. Especially considering you could presumably see John cutting through the domains, dishing out biblical vengeance, on a warpath for your tower.

So of course, he decides to antagonize John even more if that is even possible by telling him they both know he can’t do it.

And John fucking punches him and it’s great. Extended sounds of brutal ass whooping, please and thank you.

And then we get one of two lines that sums up Jonah Magnus for me.

“P-please John, I don’t want to die”.

This guy. Who dedicated his several lives to ruling the world and feeding on everyone else’s pain. Who has committed atrocities that numerous to count and too horrible to name. Who is being confronted by the direct target of his machinations and who, I think it’s safe to say, hates him more than anyone or anything else in existence. Has the absolute fucking nerve to go “but I’m scared :(”

When he went ‘I don’t want to die’ I actually said to literally no one because I was alone in my room “HA, Fuck you.”

John puts it a bit more eloquently. “Neither did they”. Beautiful. And then he’s gutted like the repulsive little fish he is.

The second line that sums up this insufferable megalomaniac is a little earlier. It’s casual, neither of them makes a point of it. Maybe because it’s a little redundant. “Empathy only holds you back in the end”.

I don’t want to die, and Empathy only holds you back in the end.

I mean, that’s the thesis statement of the shit-eating essay that is Jonah Magnus.

He’s so far beyond regret, or anything that isn’t 100% self-motivated he cannot perceive that perhaps John will have maybe, I don’t know, changed a bit. Gotten used to horror. Killed. He cannot fathom anything outside the tower as more than a food source. He is so used to seeing people as pawns he dies not actually understanding why John killed him. “Good luck” are his last lines.

First of all, the direction is ‘wetly’ and on the one hand I know what that means, but on the other, I cannot think of a more fitting adjective to end on with this guy.

Second of all, the ambiguity of how sincere he is or isn’t being is enraging, and so classic and I hate him, which is to say fucking excellent job of writing and acting both.

He goes to his grave thinking John’s making a power grab. He cannot conceive of any other reason for John doing what he’s doing. They’re opposite ends of the spectrum. One who can think of no one but himself, and one who will sacrifice himself because he’s thinking of everyone else. You know how matter can’t be created or destroyed? I think guilt might be the same way. And Jonah found a handy receptacle for all the guilt he doesn’t have time for and that receptacle is named Jonathan Sims head Archivist of The Magnus Institute.

What a good villain. What an infuriatingly mellifluous bitch. The thinks he’s King of the World, he thinks he’s going to get such special treatment, he thinks consequences apply to everyone but him, he thinks this is a game he can win when he doesn’t even know what the fuck he’s playing.

As much as he looked at John and went “perfect, an insecure idiot”, the Web looked at him and went “perfect, a pompous ass”. He wanted to live forever, but now he’s dead. And he doesn’t even get to live on in memory. No one knew he was up there. No one remembered Elias, let alone Jonah. You think Georgie, Melanie, Rosie, and Basira are going to tell the world about him? What would be the point?

Congratulations, Jonah. You tried to ensure your immortality and ended up ensuring that you died both literally and figuratively. Before it got yeeted into another dimension The End must have had a fucking Field Day the second his heart stopped beating.

What a bastard. What an unfathomable bastard. Like he really thought this would all work out for him, that he was the most Important Thing in the world when, at best, at best he was a glorified fucking contact lens.

Ass.

[gabbbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

Ways i think Anazareth would curse the other Nightmares, if they ever get on her nerves

+some small headcanons here and there

Xezbet Xerbeth: He gets transformed into a soul for 12 hours. You are what you eat.

Drugia Fleuretty: She has to experience a nightmare, specifically one that she designed. Creator tormented by creation

Barbatos Barrabam: No eating Durian for a week, self explanatory

Exael Lanithro: Anazareth hasn’t done anything to him yet, but if he did ever get on her nerves somehow—She’d expose his secret love for perfume and jewelry making to the underworld.

Abducius Morail: Anazareth summons a comically large magnet. You know the rest

Lilith Lilitu Lilit: Stealing her stuff, appearance swapping, putting her on fire for a few hours, Reading her diary publicly, Period Cramps transfer beam, basically anything that can (temporarily) screw Lilith up, Anazareth will do.

Chaugnar Faugn: nothing, she’s on good terms with him

Nyogtha Z’mog: same as last entry

Zoth Ommog: Period Cramps transfer beam.

Shub: No causing famine for 12 hours. She’d probably curse Shub simply for stealing and eating her stuff

Yog Sothoth: He has to wear a pink pretty princess dress for a week. And he has to play with Quachil every day

Quachil Uttaus: Timeout corner for 5 minutes, works like a charm

Yan Luo Wang Diyu: literally nothing. If she ever dared to curse or even wrong the princess she’d be dead and gone

Orcus Dis Pater: same as Yan Luo, because Yan Luo would exterminate anyone who dares hurt her husband

Ishtar Ereskigal: Anazareth performs a ritual to summon Animal + Pest Control in Ishtar’s room when she isn’t home

Teutates Taranis: Anazareth cuts his hair. Specifically into a bowl cut

Ah Puch Xibalba: Period Cramps transfer beam.

Dagda Crom Cruach: Anazareth doesn’t really have an issue with this guy ever, but simply for fun, she’d probably just turn the Soul Scarecrow…into a Soul Scarecrow in a box. Jack in the Box treatment. Either that or give him a proper pair of legs for a certain amount of time (i hc him having a single stick for a leg)

Izanami Yomi: Nothing yet, but if she ever tries anything with her, she’ll probably case a spell to (temporarily) deform Izanami’s face, just to give her a taste of her own medicine

(Evil) Chester: “Who?”

The Nightmare Clown: Period Cramps transfer beam + she has to automatically win the next 5 games he plays against her in

Mask Girl: It’s messy…The 3-times thing is actually the curse itself. Basically, the 3-times girl was saying some stuff about Anazareth, and Anazareth caught word of it through one of the other neighbors, so she eternally cursed the poor soul by not being able to enter ANYWHERE, unless they’re let in 3 exact times. All of this, just because she was talking bad about Ana…

[ino-takumas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse -Part 5 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Thank you all for the support on this series, the first part has become one of my top posts and it's only been out for about a month or so, I'm really glad there's people enjoying my writing!! ❤💞

Part 4 here

Warnings: Blood, beheading, satoru gojo is a little shit

Word count: 3.3k

“Repeat yourself, and pray that I heard you wrong lest your head falls from your shoulders,” Jin Itadori’s voice rings out in the throne room. It has gone deathly silent, the gathering of lords and his remaining four sons all now listening indiscreetly to the messenger who speaks.

“Y-your highness,” The messenger stutters, “Your son bears no traces of Itadori tattoos upon his body,” There is barely a sound as the king stands, but the messenger is quick to fall to his knees and beg for his life. Jin Itadori is not a merciful king, but he gives it this once, gives the messenger a second chance, “Go, watch over him, report back the instant anything of note happens,”

He does not have to wait long. The messenger is dead before he can finish his sentence. The only words Yuji Itadori heard, “The Crown Prince of Iqoria has perished, the King and Queen retire, your son is set to be-” Before two thumps, one after the other, and his head is rolling back down the stairs he climbed to bow directly at the throne.

The king is breathing heavily, Yuji steps instinctively between his father and his younger brothers, “OUT!” His face is red with rage, “EVERYBODY OUT!” Choso and Yuji exchange a glance, grab a brother each and sprint out the back entrance to the throne room. Their mother is not far behind, her knuckles white with stress.

“Oh mother,” Yuji murmurs once they’re a safe distance away, letting go of Kechizu and taking her hands, rubbing the backs of her knuckles until she stops clenching them. “My sons,” She whispers, tears dripping down her face, “Oh my boys, it will not be safe here for much longer,”

“We can go to Iqoria, Ryomen will take us in,” Yuji insists. “He might take you three, he won’t take me,” Choso murmurs. “What makes you so sure?” “He knows you, he protects you three, just go without me, I will be fine,” “No, if you won’t leave then neither will we,” Eso speaks up, “Either we all go or none of us do,” Kechizu nods, his hands finding Yuji again and pressing his body to his brothers, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want to go anywhere without big brother Choso,” He murmurs softly.

Their mother sobs quietly, “You must all go, I refuse to lose you in his darkness,” “We cannot go yet, we must wait a few days,” Choso murmurs, pacing the hall as he thinks. “He is sure to punish us though, he is sure to come for us if we do not leave soon,” Yuji pleads. Kaori grabs her eldest son and pulls him in for a tight hug, “I will keep him away from you, do what you must to prepare but you must leave before the coronation, things will only escalate from there,”

The two eldest exchange a glance over her shoulder, fearing their father’s wrath and what they know can come from it. Slaughter, destruction, meaningless suffering, war, and of course what comes hand-in-hand with all of that. Curses manifested in their millions.

~

“What a punishment for the Captain of the Guards!” “Leave it Satoru,” “Oh no, seriously, I can’t believe she’s making you hang out with me, you must’ve really pissed her off with that stunt for her to make you do this, I mean guarding the royal sorcerer? When the royal sorcerer is me?” He smirks. It annoys Geto. The guard looks for solace in scanning the nearby treeline, deliberate in his choice to omit a reply.

“Come now, not talking to me? And here I was thinking we were friends,” Gojo continues his rituals, shooting his reluctant companion a glance as he renews the veil around the city. “Oh, so we’re friends now are we?” Geto mutters. “You wound me Captain!” Gojo groans as he steps back from the veil to admire his handiwork, the air shimmering with a lovely blue colour for a moment before fading into the air.

“Tell me about him then, if you’re so eager to talk, tell me about Prince Ryomen,” Geto folds his arms as they begin to walk back to the city, “How dangerous is he?” “You worry too much Suguru, he may be strong but if the Princess needed it, I promise you I’d win,” Geto raises an eyebrow, one hand resting now on the hilt of his sword, “Forgive my lack of faith, Satoru, but the Princess’ wellbeing is my highest priority, if I have to kill him to save her I need to know if I will be able to,”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Gojo’s voice has softened, his face more relaxed than before as he eases into the conversation. It irks Geto. “He lashed out at her on the journey here, what am I supposed to think?” Gojo sighs, “And she forgave him, she said it was because she pushed for information he wasn’t willing to provide anyway, so what is your problem?”

They pass through the castle walls and veil as Geto falls quiet, unwilling to reply. “Is it because of those girls?” Gojo asks again. Geto turns to the royal sorcerer, gripping his arm tightly to stop him walking ahead, “I cannot lose her, if I lose her then all I have left is the failure,” Gojo’s eyes fill with pity as he looks back. It infuriates Geto. He doesn’t need the sorcerer’s pity.

“I can exorcise them if you need me to, Suguru, you don’t have to live like this,” He murmurs. “If you do that, then they’ll be gone forever,” He mutters, letting his hand drop, “This is my punishment, this is what I deserve,”

“Nobody deserves punishment for failing to protect what they love, the grief is enough, you don’t have to do this to yourself,” Geto starts walking again, heading for the sorcerer’s tower within the castle grounds.

“Think about it!” Gojo calls as he jaunts along behind the storm cloud of a man, “It might be good for you!”

~

“The news will have reached Khoccadia by now,” Ryomen whispers, his fingertips trailing up and down your spine as you lay in his arms in your shared bed, “We must prepare for the worst my father is capable of,” His other arm tightens around you slightly and you feel his muscles tense with fear. Your hands trail up his chest to his cheeks, gently rubbing with your thumbs, “And your brothers? What of them? Will they follow him?”

He shudders at the thought, curling himself down around you, “They’re better men than that, they will not,” He insists, “If…” He trails off, but you look up into his eyes, prompting him to continue the thought, “If they come here seeking refuge will you allow me to care for them?” His eyes plead silently as he looks into yours. You cannot say you’re thrilled with the idea, especially considering the implications it may have with regards to Jin Itadori, but you nod, “As long as you can trust them without a single drop of doubt, then yes,”

A flash of determination crosses his gaze, “I will make sure of it,” He mutters, shifting down and nudging his head under your chin. He’s been oddly protective the last few days, as if he expects his father to jump out of the nearest shadow and snap your neck where you stand. With the veil still lowered you know this to be impossible, as it directly alerts Gojo of anyone entering the city and the castle who was not born in Iqoria.

“Worry not of matters concerning your father right this second, please, just close your eyes and dream of elsewhere,” You murmur, your fingers trailing over his shoulders and upper back. “Why would I dream of elsewhere, when right here is where I want to be,” He breathes as his body relaxes against you, his breath fanning your collarbones as the candlelight splashes his cheeks.

Your bodies are cradled amongst swathes of blankets and an excess of pillows, your hands content to just lull him to sleep while your book remains bookmarked on the bedside table behind you. A gentle knock on the door makes you look up, “Come in,” You call softly. The knocker, a maid who slips in the room and bows quickly, smiles when she notices Ryomen’s slumbering form.

“Has he accustomed to Iqoria my lady?” She murmurs. You nod, “I believe so, what did you come for?” You ask, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh yes, Ieiri Shoko would like to see you, may I let her in?” She asks, to which you nod. The royal physician enters a moment later, her face dull as usual, only slightly warming after she’s showed her respects.

“Princess,” She starts, “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” She asks. You shift until you’re sat a bit more upright, Ryomen’s face now buried against your stomach, “Might as well start with the bad,” You frown. “It’s your mother, Princess, she retires because she’s fallen ill, and I fear it is not the kind of illness my touch can heal,” Her words are soft, softer than you’re used to hearing from her, and you appreciate it despite the blow it deals.

You feel your chest tighten, tears threatening to fall, “Her heart strains with the loss of her son, it’s alright, you don’t have to be gentle with me,” You murmur, “I only wish for her to be at ease,” Shoko approaches the bed, pulling the chair from your desk with her and then sitting backwards astride it, leaning her arms on the back of it, “May I tell you the good news?”

You nod again, your hand coming up to brush your tears away before they can fall to the pillows beneath you. “I do not believe this illness will kill her, at least not for a long time. There are stories of people dying suddenly of broken hearts but I believe with her daughter taking the throne and her husband still by her side she will live to see another age of Iqoria,”

Shoko’s words prompt idle thoughts, memories of your mother from your childhood, and you nod again, “Thank you for telling me,” You murmur, “Does father know?” She nods, “He specifically requested for my help,” Your hand returns to the back of Ryomen’s head, just gently holding him close lest you fall apart.

It’s just been one bad turn after another, and a little gremlin inside of you tries it’s best to convince you that Ryomen’s presence has been nothing but bad luck, but you shoot it down with vehemence. You’re determined to help him use his immense cursed energy for good, and if that means you have to put yourself in between him and his father, or him and your people, then so be it.

“I do have one other thing I would like to ask of you Princess,” She murmurs, her voice lower than before, and it captures your attention back. “What is it?” “May I examine the Prince while he slumbers? I worry for his health,” She asks tentatively, “I wish to look for any lasting damage within his body from both the cursed energy he bears, and from the physical abuse that he suffered in his childhood,”

You look down at your husband, sleeping peacefully with his face hidden against your stomach, his eyelashes fluttering with whatever dreams race behind his eyelids. Part of you resents the idea of examining him without his knowledge, but you can guess he would refuse if he was awake, “What will this achieve?” You inquire.

“If I can ascertain his sensitivity to cursed energy then I can give Satoru pointers on how to teach him, and maybe even teach him myself, refine his reverse cursed technique. I can also begin work to fix some of the lasting damage within him caused by his childhood trauma, but of course my lady it is your decision right now,” She puts her hand up and gestures to you, “You are to be queen after all,”

“I do not fear retribution as such, I know I can order him to do this, but I fear a breach of boundaries, the loss of trust, Ieiri,” You murmur sadly, “As much as I agree this is something that needs to happen, I cannot do it without his knowledge or without his consent,”

“Will you speak with him about it?” She presses and you sigh, “Yes Ieiri, I will speak with him, but I cannot guarantee anything, he may not want you to heal him, is that all you came to speak about?” Your eyes are drooping and you wish nothing more than for her to leave, as much as you enjoy her company on a regular basis you need to be alone.

She dips her head, “That was all, goodnight Princess,” She returns the chair to its place and then backs out of the room, the latch clicking and her footsteps trailing off into the distance. “Oh Ryomen, what have we gotten ourselves into,” You whisper softly, shimmying back down under the covers until he’s tucked under your chin once more.

~

You didn’t sleep much after Ieiri left. If you could have tossed and turned you would, it felt too hot and restrictive under the covers despite the comfort of your husband’s arms. When he woke you were dozing in the soft sunbeams creeping through the window. “Still sleepy?” He grunts, nudging his nose to your chin as he moves to tuck you into his chest instead.

You grumble something incoherent before the words spill from your mouth, “Shoko visited before I could sleep, told me that mother is ill,” You speak in short sentences, just a hint of anger in your voice, “She wanted to examine you while you were asleep, didn’t let her,” A yawn prevents you from speaking more but he tilts your chin up to look into your sleepy eyes.

“Examine me?” “Your energy sensitivity, your physical trauma,” You mutter, “See if anything was left behind, or strained under your energy,” You shake his hand off your chin and push your face into the hollow space between his neck and shoulder, “She’s worried you’ll suffer under the weight of everything,”

He’s quiet and you can sense him bristling like a hedgehog, “I’m not a specimen to be examined, I’m a human being,” He growls. You hum in agreeance, moving so you can look up at him, “I know, and I’m sure she knows too, but with how much energy you have I’m surprised there isn’t any sign of a physical toll on your body, will you please, for my sake, allow her to at least examine your energy tolerance?”

He scoffs, “As if she’ll be able to resist poking around my scars like they’re any of her business, doctors just can’t resist that sort of shit,” You rest a hand over one of the more prominent scars on his chest, one that looks suspiciously like it was caused by some sort of whip, and gently implore him, “Will you allow it if I am present? If I forbid her from anything more?”

“Only if you order me, Princess,” He spits, pulling back and swinging his feet to the floor until he’s sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. You push yourself up on one hand, the other adjusting the strap of your nightgown, “Ryomen,” You murmur, “I will not order you around like a dog, you are my husband and you are, as you said, a human,”

You shuffle closer until you can rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his neck, “If there is something you’re afraid of her, or me, seeing, then just tell me that is the reason and I will order her to let it go,” He pulls further away from you, standing and leaving the bedside, taking his warmth with him.

“Ryomen will you look at me!” You shout. It startles him and you feel a slash of his energy cut past your cheek. It stings for a moment before going numb, you ignore it as he turns to look at you, “I will not have you acting like a child, if you want somewhere to be angry that badly then I will send you to the place my brother died to fight in his place, is that what you want?”

You realise your words are going straight over his head, his eyes wide and yet strangely empty, and a strange warmth on your leg makes you look down in shock. The sheets beneath you are stained with pools of liquid scarlet, your nightgown no better, you lift your hand to your cheek only for it to come away warm and wet.

“I knew this would happen,” He covers your cheek with a hand and a comforting sensation flows through your face, which is still slack with shock.

The door slams open and you sense your royal guard and royal sorcerer as they stumble past one another into the room. “My lady, I sensed royal blood, are you-?” Gojo stops talking suddenly, straightens up as he sees the state of the sheets, “O-oh…” “Step away from the Princess you cursed monster!”

Geto steps towards Ryomen, causing you to finally snap out of your shock, putting yourself between them again, “Will you please just stop, Geto!” You beg, “I am sending Ryomen to live in the sorcerer’s tower while he learns to control his energy, now let this stupid obsession with my husband's actions go or you’ll become a permanent employ of Satoru Gojo’s personal guard!”

The air is thick with tension and you step out of Ryomen’s space, your nightgown awkwardly sticking to your thighs with the remnant blood. You take a few deep breaths, fists clenched, letting your eyes flutter shut as you reach out with your mind and summon your maids. Geto still has not backed down by the time they arrive, “My lady, what is it you need?”

Tentative eyes dart between the three men, all silent and in various forms of quiet observation or contemplation. “Good, will you please see to my bedsheets, and draw me a bath, I wish to remove this blood,” The group of women begin bustling around the room, heads down as they skirt around the men.

“Well?” You ask, mild annoyance filling your tone, “Are we done here? Or are you going to continue this pointless battle of wits in my bedroom among my maids for the foreseeable future?” “Of course not my lady, I will see you later Ryomen, I trust you will be quite the eager student!”

Gojo grabs Geto by the elbow and drags him out of the room, surprisingly strong for someone so skinny, and Ryomen stalks into the connected dressing room, leaving you alone to be exhaustedly shepherded to the bathtub and stripped of your bloody nightgown.

~

What makes a king, a king?

Is it respect? Power? Strength?

You’ll get different answers wherever you go, but one thing is always the same.

The ability to protect. The willingness to protect.

If you’re a king and your people feel you cannot protect them, then what is your purpose?

What do you become but a link in the chains of destruction?

If you do not hold respect and love for your people, then you don’t have a people at all.

Stories passed down through generations speak of kingdoms risen through bloodshed and destroyed under the weight of foolish kings and shallow pride.

Will yours join the ever growing list?

Will you allow your anger to come before your people?

Of course you will, for it is all you’ve ever known.

But who will pay the price for this?

Who’s blood will be spilled in the end?

One thing is for sure, written so deeply in the threads of fate.

You won’t be alive to see.

Also don't be afraid to comment or message if you want to be tagged, or if you want me to write a separate oneshot or scenario or something, my requests are open!

Part 6 here

Taglist: @love-jelly

[daitranscripts]

The Final Piece Pt. 1

The Altar of Mythal (Inquisitor Drank)

The Final Piece Masterpost Previous Quest: What Pride Had Wrought

The party arrives at a structure in the Arbor wilds.

PC: It’s here. I can feel it.

Party comments:

Solas: Yes. I feel it as well.

Cole: I can hear it. It’s calling to you.

Dorian: Are you certain it’s still in one piece?

Vivienne: There seems to be nothing out here but wilderness.

Varric: You sure? There aren’t any ruins in these parts.

Sera: Probably just a pile of rocks.

PC (after party comment): I’m sure it’s here. Just keep an eye out.

They enter the structure and see a large stature ahead.

PC: There it is!

They approach the altar.

PC: This is all that’s left of the altar. “We few who travel far, call to me, and I will come. Without mercy, without fear.”

Solas (if in party): “ Cry havoc in the moonlight, let the fire of vengeance burn, the cause is clear.”

Dialogue options:

Arcane: I know what this place is. PC: Strange that there wasn’t an altar like this at Mythal’s temple. The temple was a place of justice, but this… is different. This was where the elves called to her. Spoke to her. Then one day she disappeared, and they had no one to speak to. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

General: This place is beautiful. PC: It’s beautiful here. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

General: Sounds ominous. PC: “Without mercy.” That’ll give anyone pause. ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ

General: Let’s get this done. PC: Call, and she will come–simple enough.

Party comments:

Cassandra: Do you need to do this alone?

Vivienne: Would it be better if we left, my dear?

Iron Bull: You want us to piss off you you can get to it?

Blackwall: This ritual… should we leave you alone?

Dorian: Do you need help, or should we leave?

Sera: Right. I’m out.

Varric: You want us to stick around, or should we leave?

Cole: Should we go? I think we should go.

Solas: Should I leave you?

PC: Don’t go too far. I may need your help, if there’s trouble.

The party leaves, and Morrigan approaches.

Morrigan: You will perform this mysterious summoning alone, Inquisitor? Very bold.

Dialogue options:

General: Are you here to help? [1]

General: Couldn’t resist, I see. [2]

General: Alone means “without you.” [3]

1 - General: Are you here to help? PC: Did you come here to help, or to satisfy your curiosity? Morrigan: I am eager to see what manner of creature responds to your call. Who would not be? [4]

2 - General: Couldn’t resist, I see. PC: Just couldn’t stay away, could you? Morrigan: I am eager to see what manner of creature responds to your call. Who would not be? [4]

3 - General: Alone means “without you.” PC: That means you also need to leave. Morrigan: And do you even know what manner of creature will answer your call? [4]

4 - Scene continues.

PC: The voices say it will be Mythal.

Morrigan: And what is Mythal, beyond something thousands of years dead and gone?

The PC closes their eyes.

PC: They say you can remain.

Morrigan: How very hospitable of them.

PC: You know who I am: the last to drink from your Well of Sorrows. Come to me, Mythal. Whatever you are, whoever remains, I invoke your name and your power.

They begin to pace in front of the altar, and Flemeth appears.

Morrigan: Mother.

PC: “Mother”?

Flemeth: Now, isn’t this a surprise?

Dialogue options:

General: This is Mythal? [5]

General: You know her? [6]

General: What’s going on here? [7]

5 - General: This is Mythal? PC: So this is Mythal? Morrigan: She is a deceiving witch! [8]

6 - General: You know her? PC: I take it you know her? Morrigan: She is a deceiving witch! [8]

7 - General: What’s going on here? PC: What’s wrong? Morrigan: We have been deceived! [8]

8 - Scene continues.

Morrigan attempts to attack.

Flemeth: (Sighs.) Be a good [lad/lass] and restrain her.

The PC grabs her.

Morrigan: What are you doing? What… are you doing?

PC: I don’t know!

Flemeth: Of course you know. You drank from the Well, did you not?

Morrigan: Then… you are Mythal?

Dialogue options

Stoic: She is? [9]

Confused: You’re not even an elf! [10]

Angry: You’re no god. [11]

Pleased: I welcome you.[12]

Angry: Release me! [13]

9 - Stoic: She is? PC: That’s Mythal? Flemeth: You invoke that name so easily. I wonder if you know what it means? [14]

10 - Confused: You’re not even an elf! PC (Dalish): Mythal was the goddess of justice. I’ve seen the statues. She… Flemeth: Was one of the People. Yes, indeed.

PC (non-Dalish): Mythal was an elven god. You, you’re… Flemeth: Human? Not a word many have used for me in a very long time. [14]

11 - Angry: You’re no god. PC: I’m supposed to believe that you’re some kind of god? Flemeth: Clearly not the sort you had in mind, hmm? [14]

12 - Pleased: I welcome you. PC: If that’s true, then I thank you for answering my summons. Flemeth: You see, girl? Those are manners, as you require a demonstration. [14]

13 - Angry: Release me! PC: Whatever hold you have over me, release it now! Flemeth: That is entirely up to my dear daughter. [14]

14 - Scene continues.

Morrigan: I do not understand. How can you be Mythal?

Flemeth: Once I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her.

Dialogue options:

General: She’s a part of you? [15]

General: That could be a demon. [16]

General: Why should we trust you? [17]

15 - General: She’s a part of you? PC: Then… you carry Mythal inside you? Flemeth: She is a part of me, no more separate than your heart from your chest. [18]

16 - General: That could be a demon. PC: That could have been a demon, lying to you. [18]

17 - General: Why should we trust you? PC: You can say anything you like. Why should we trust you? [18]

18 - Scene continues.

Flemeth: What do the voices tell you?

The PC closes their eyes to hear the voices.

PC: They say you speak the truth.

Flemeth: But what was Mythal? A legend given name and called a god, or something more? Truth is not the end, but a beginning.

Flemeth (Dalish PC): So young and vibrant. You do the People proud and have come far. Flemeth (non-Dalish PC): A herald, indeed. Shouting to the heavens, harbinger of a new age.

Flemeth: As for me, I have had many names. But you… may call me Flemeth.

19 - Dialogue options:

History: I know who Flemeth is. [20]

Special (Dalish PC): The elves needed you. [21]

Investigate: Why stay secret? [22]

General: Will you help us? [23]

General: This was no accident. [24]

General: So what now? [25]

20 - History: I know who Flemeth is. PC (Dalish PC): I know the name “Flemeth.” My people call you Asha’bellanar, the woman of many years, and speak of your legend. PC (non-Dalish PC): I know the name “Flemeth.” It belongs to an ancient Fereldan legend.

PC: It says, long ago, you left your husband for a lover. Your husband then tricked you, killed your lover, and imprisoned you. Then a spirit came to offer you vengeance. Mythal–that’s what you spoke of. Flemeth: One day, someone will summarize the terrible events of your life so quickly. But, yes, I was that woman. That is how my tale began. PC: Flemeth appears in other legends, helping heroes for reasons of her own. Flemeth: I nudge history, when it’s required. Other times, a shove is needed. (Chuckles.) [26]

21 - Special: The elves needed you. PC: If Mythal is a part of you, why haven’t you helped us? We’ve called to you, prayed to you… Flemeth: What was could not be changed. PC: What about now? You know so much… Flemeth: You know not what you ask, child. [26]

22 - Investigate: Why stay secret? PC: If Mythal is within you, why not reveal yourself? Flemeth: And to whom should I reveal myself? PC: To the elves? To everyone? Flemeth: (Laughs.) I knew the hearts of men even before Mythal came to me. It is why she came to me. They do no want the truth, and I… I am but a shadow, lingering in the sun. [26]

Dialogue options:

Investigate: I need to understand. [26]

[Back to 19]

26 - Investigate: I need to understand. PC: Why did Mythal come to you? Flemeth: For a reckoning that will shake the very heavens. Morrigan: And you follow her whims? Do you even know what she truly is? Flemeth: You seek to preserve the powers that were, but to what end? It is because I taught you, girl, because things happened that were never meant to happen. She was betrayed as I was betrayed–as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged! Alas, so long as the music plays, we dance. [back to 19]

23 - Will you help us? PC: We summoned you because we need your help. Flemeth: Against the magister who grasps beyond his reach. Yes, I know. [26]

24 - General: This was no accident. This meeting was no accident, was it? Flemeth: Clever [lad/girl]. Morrigan: The voices… came from you? Flemeth: The price of the Well seemed no dire thing when you saw so much gain, hmm? [26]

25 - General: So what now? PC: So what happens now? [26]

26 - Scene continues.

Flemeth: The voices did not lie, Inquisitor. I can help you. The altar’s guardian will come. Master the dragon, and it will be yours to command against Corypheus. Fail, and die.

She begins to leave.

Morrigan: Wait!

Flemeth: I wished to see who drank from the Well of Sorrows. It has been a very long time.

Flemeth: Now I have, and [they are] free to go.

Morrigan: But what of us?

Flemeth: A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in danger from me.

Flemeth leaves.

Morrigan: All things considered, Inquisitor, I now am rather pleased you drank from the well.

Dialogue options:

General: I’m not. [27]

General: That was bizarre. [28]

General: I hope this was worth it. [29]

27 - General: I’m not. PC: I’m not. What have I gotten myself into? Morrigan: Service to a being not quite as dead-and-gone as we thought. Now, I believe, you have a guardian of the altar to master.

28 - General: That was bizarre. PC: That was all… rather odd. Morrigan: Yes, well, Mother has always had that effect on people. Now, I believe, you have a guardian of the altar to master.

29 - General: I hope this was worth it. PC: All this had better be worth it. Morrigan: You will discover that shortly, I suspect.

A dragon descends, and the party fights it. The PC walks up to it and there is a glow, then the dragon flies away.

Party Comments:

Dorian: If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Blackwall: You stared it down. You actually stared it down!

Vivienne: And now it flies off? Just like that?

Iron Bull: Okay, yeah, that was impressive.

Cassandra: Why did it fly off? Will it come back?

PC: It will come when I summon it. Once. That’s enough to fight Corypheus, however. I have my dragon.

Party Comments:

Sera: So, when we find him, we’ll fight between two dragons? Mad plan. Love it.

Solas: Now we need only find Corypheus.

Cole: Now you find Corypheus. Before he finds you.

Varric: All you need now is Corypheus, and bam! Dragon fight!

The party returns to Skyhold.

Next Quest: Doom Upon All the World

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.22

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x OC

Warnings: imprinting angst

Words: 2458

Summary: Jacob suffers with the aftermath of imprinting on Evita. You and Evita prep for the bond breaking ritual.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39

What was his life becoming? From the outward look, everything seemed wrong. He shouldn’[t have imprinted on Evita but he did. That was how it worked after all. Billy and Sue found him in quite a state after Sam had called them, concerned for Jacob’s well being.

How had (y/n) and Jared dealt with imprinting on complete strangers?

From what he recalled of the pack telepathy, they had been in very much the same way: distraught and confused. He could never have imagined it was that. . . Intense. Like a bus had just slammed right into him.

He barely registered his father’s voice trying to beckon his senses. There was nothing that Billy could say to make things better. The process of imprinting was an arduous one yet another right of passage four a true Quileute warrior.

Sue grips the handlebars of Billy’s wheelchair and steers him in the other way, opposite of Jacob’s bedroom door. His son had been through so much already that this seemed almost too cruel for Sue. It made her dread the day when Leah or Seth imprinted on someone. She always assumed Leah would have been safe from becoming a shape shifter. Never had there been a female wolf. Not before Leah. (Y/n) suffered the same fate but even worse was that she had also imprinted on Edward Cullen just two weeks after her first phasing. Pitying the girl, Sue was the one to tell the desperate young girl about the Hispanic witch that she had discovered through her research. Guilt plagued many of her dreams after Sam and (y/n) returned to tell of the horror they had faced against an owl-faced devil.

“Give him time. He’s not ready yet.” Sue whispered to Billy. She would take them back to her own house.

Billy didn’t like the idea of leaving his son alone to figure things out himself. He couldn’t possibly understand what it was like to imprint on someone you didn’t even know. Never afflicted with the stress of being a Warrior of the Moon, Billy had chosen Sarah himself. Love was the only factor in his decision.

“Sue. . . It breaks my heart.” He whispered as she helped him out of his wheelchair and back into the passenger seat of her car.

She pursed her lips, a burning sensation in her eyes made her close them for a moment to relieve it. How terrible it was to helplessly watch your child suffer. The whole warrior thing was terrible on all ends.

“They haven’t told the girl yet, have they?” Sue whispered once she lifts herself into the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

“No. . . No. Sam said he was going to wait until she knows us better. Maybe it’ll help.” Billy’s eyes are far off into the distance. This girl- This witch. . . Would some day be his daughter-in-law if things went according to fate. “Evita is her name.”

Sue keeps her eyes on the road but her mind is on the poor unsuspecting girl. Whatever herb initial reason for coming too Forks was, she certainly would have never imagined something like this happening. Unless she had the power of divination like Alice Cullen possessed. Well, at least this will get his mind off of Bella.”

Billy coughed out a low chuckle, enough that Sue knew he was equally happy not to have his son pine for her fully knowing that she wasn’t his imprintee.

“There’s nothing for us to do, Billy. We’ll have to leave this matter to Sam. He’s gone through it as has Jared and (y/n). They’re a pack. They’ll help each other out and talk to Jacob when he’s ready.” Sue adds.

The older man closes his eyes and lets Sue drive them to wherever.

Jacob listened to the sound of Sue’s car pulling out of the driveway. Most likely heading to Sam’s to get the news of not just meeting the two members of the Denali coven, but to find out more about his house guest, Evita.

The witch he had imprinted on.

His heart was racing at an alarming speed as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, head in hands. While his wolf was elated, the human part of him was mortified. Foolishly, Jacob thought he had more time before he met his imprintee. That maybe against all odds, something would happen where he imprinted on Bella.

He recalled when (y/n) had first imprinted on Edward. Remembered how many days she locked herself in her room, not answering any texts or calls and making everyone sick with worry. They all were aware of the possibility that (y/n) would kill herself. It happened before when the imprintation was not reciprocated. Akin to a broken heart.

The devastation she’d experienced was palpable through pack telepathy, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it.

Underneath his skin trembled the power he possessed, wanting to be unleashed. Jacob didn’t want to give way to the frenzy. In this emotional state, he’d become victim to his animal. Yielding to it’s overwhelming strength.

Ordinarily wolves ran a higher temperature than the regular human. Not usually affecting him, Jacob now felt his face searing with heat near scalding. The individual cells of his body was fighting against what should be natural.

He tried conjuring Bella in his mind, but only Evita’s stunning eyes stared back at him. Her scent still clung inside of his nostrils, making him greedily suck up whatever remained. At the same time he shamed himself for doing so. Jacob felt like he betrayed Bella somehow. Bella now lost two men in her life due to imprinting. When she found out- Jacob didn’t want her to ever find out. Not if he could help it.

**

It was hard not to tell Evita that some forces beyond of anyone’s comprehension bound her to Jacob. When you decided to stay the night at Sam’s, you were already aware that it would be harder to keep the secret once you really got to know her. Through the night she shared her story, not the least bit bothered by the presence of Sam and Emily who stood listening while you sat on the couch with Evita.

Before her sister Letizia left their home, she lived with Evita, their mother, grandmother and one other sister who was ten years old. She was enjoying her summer break hanging with her school friends, but when Letizia hadn’t returned any of her calls, she knew finding out about her sister was more important than anything. Their mother protested furiously when Evita told her of her plan. Only Evita’s promise to return before school started swayed her mom. She made sure to supply her with anything she may need during her travel; especially with money so that she would never have to sleep anywhere dangerous. They weren’t wealthy by any means, but her mom viewed Evita’s safety as her number one priority.

Evita admitted that it had been the first time in her life traveling outside of Puerto Rico. But her English was proficient and she had magic up her sleeve. Using such tools had led her to Oregon.The climate so different than her home country. A charmed warming stone was all that kept her from freezing.

The lechuza was not the only strange creature she had encountered in her short lifetime. Not just vampires either.

It verified your fear that other things went bump in the night.

What was even more illuminating were the items her mother had packed in her bag. Evita dumped out all of its contents to show you her practice. Lots of small candles, herbs in pouches that tickled your nose and a smooth palm sized mirror. She explained that was how she tracked you down after finding your blood in her sister's house.

You pick up a small candle to examine it. "You'll be using this for my spell?"

She nods. "Yes. Two are required but I need red string and either blood or hair from you."

"Does the spell hurt?"

Pressing her lips in a firm line, Evita leans back against the couch cushions. "I've never done this spell, but I don't think it should hurt. That is if it actually works on you. No one in my family has done spells for wolves let alone a vampire."

You hoped it did work. If your tie to Edward was broken, everything would be fixed.

“Just don’t be too disappointed if things don’t turn out the way you had wanted.” She gently warned, not wanting you to get your hopes up.

Promising her that you understood, she went on to tell you how it would be performed. All of it sounded so simple yet Evita claimed the inner manifestation itself was the tricky part.

As for the supplies she still required to stop by a store she had looked up on her phone in Port Angeles. Most of them she could find in the forest thankfully and you told her the next day you would go out with her. The woods around you were so familiar to you by now that you could probably find your way back home blindfolded. Sam said he would later drive both of you to Port Angeles. He was curious about Evita’s craft.

Your conversation came to a halt when the knock of the front door alerts to another visitor.

Sam opens it and lets Sue and Billy go past him into the living room. Billy’s face told you that he knew who the girl was sitting beside you. Knew that she was his son’s fated mate. You worry that he’s going to tell Evita.

Sue clears her throat with a strained smile. “Sorry to interrupt. We thought we would come over and officially welcome Ms. Evita to La Push.”

Evita smiles and stands up. “Thank you. It’s such a beautiful area. You’re lucky to live so close to nature. Practically in your backyards!” She holds out her hand first to Sue then to Billy whose dark eyes don’t leave her. His hand is slow to clasps her’s.

“Billy is Jacob’s dad. Do you remember Jacob?” You copy Sue and try to smile, like everything is completely fine. Just normal first meeting right?

She’d met so many people that day, you were truly caught off guard when she nods. “Yes. I remember him. He came with those two other boys.”

“And Sue is Leah and Seth’s mom.” Adding, you watch Evita’s face as she racks her memory of the two wolves you named. Easy to remember Leah since she was the only other female besides yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Plain honesty is on her face. This interaction was enriching for Evita. While there may be aggressive creatures from living nightmares that exist in the world, at least your pack and those of the Cullens were of a friendly nature. Many more like you could exist too.

Emily and Sue wander to the kitchen to prepare cups of tea for everyone using an herbal blend made by Evita. Sam pulls up his beat up armchair and sits next to Billy.

“Since Jacob is your son, does that mean you can shape-shift too?” Evita excitedly leans forward.

Billy smiles and shakes his head. “No. I was never a shape-shifter. They only started reemerging just recently. For decades there had been no wolves. If you plan on staying for another night, you’re more than welcome to come to our bonfire tomorrow night. Members of our reservation are always welcome and there is plenty of food. We tell stories of our ancestors and the land they protected.”

“I would love that!” She exclaims in her chanting accent. “I do plan on staying here for a few more days. There are things to be done.”

It was enough to make Billy’s smile broaden. You didn’t want Billy to get his hopes up either. She hadn’t mentioned it when you were talking, but she could have a boyfriend back home or someone else she liked. Evita had her own life back in Puerto Rico.

The two other women in the house return with trays that steadied steaming cups of tea. Once you took the first sip, warmth blazed from the innermost part of your tummy and from the other’s, you knew they felt the same too. Not one for tea, Evita’s would be the exception.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sue starts “how old are you, Evita?”

“Seventeen.” Only a year older than you and Jacob.

Concern flashes across Sue’s face. “Your parents must be so worried about you traveling all by yourself.”

“My mom was at first but once the first week passed, she trusted my power enough to protect myself.” She preens a bit with pride. to her mom, she’d proven herself as a witch during her journey. “But I know that doesn’t prevent her from worrying. She’ll be happier once I’m back home.”

Sue empathized with Evita’s mom because she had gone through a similar situation with her own kids. It’s not easy to be a parent of a shape-shifter. You have to let go to the child you had once been rearing and acknowledge them as a lethal weapon.

Both you and Evita wake up early the next morning. After making the living room look presentable, you head out of Sam’s house and into the forest of trees that lay beyond. Most dusts the early morning air as did a thin layer of fog. She needed stones of a distinct weight and shape. Preferably from any nearby creeks or rivers. There was one several miles away from Sam’s house that led up to a local waterfall. You went on foot as Evita didn’t seem to mind the extra long walk. Her pace was a leisurely one as she admired the flora and fauna that thrived in the area. Some she was able to name and tell you their properties. Then she would pick it up and place it in a pouch that hung from her shoulder.

The rising of the sun banishes the fog completely as you advanced over fallen logs and scattered twigs. Birds chirp high above and dart every so often into view.

Soft tinkling of flowing water hit your ears first and you let her know that you were nearly there. There would be plenty of rocks to choose from both from the banks and from the riverbed itself.

While she searches for her perfect stones, you sit at the edge of the river and dip your feet into the freezing water that came straight from the mountain. Bright sunlight bathes your bare arms and legs as you enjoy this rare peaceful moment.

————————

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Sorry this part ended abruptly. I really wanted to get this chapter out on time 😅

[deadonmayn]

Propaganda is very much allowed and encouraged :D (Prompt list below the read more)

Day 1 - Sunday

Trope | Courting Rituals Word | Flickering Situation | Dinner is interrupted by a rogue/gang fight. Dialogue | “Are they gone yet?”

Day 2 - Monday

Trope | Jason Has Magic Word | Ritual Situation | Danny and Jason are abducted by the same cult. Dialogue | “You were never monstrous to me.”

Day 3 - Tuesday

Trope | King Danny & Knight Jason Word | Blood blossoms Situation | Jason and Danny get stuck in a coffin together. Dialogue | “We may have come back wrong but at least we came back.”

Day 4 - Wednesday

Trope | Mistaken Identity Word | Inertia Situation | Love square (Danny/Jason/Phantom/Hood) Dialogue | “Don't call me that name.”

Day 5 - Thursday

Trope | Soulmates Word | Pretend Situation | Jason and Danny were childhood friends. Dialogue | “I never thought I'd see you again.”

Day 6 - Friday

Trope | Ecto-hunger Word | Core Injury Situation | Danny 'rescues' hood from the Bats. Dialogue | “Careful, he bites.”

Day 7 - Saturday

Trope | Accidental Child Acquisition Word | Ecto-parasite Situation | Jason is in Amity Park and meets the mysterious local hero. Dialogue | “I’m starting to understand why you didn’t want me to meet your family.”

Bonus Prompts

Trope | Danny heals the pit rage Word | Fangs Situation | Danny starts a fan blog featuring Red Hood. Dialogue | "Oh, it's probably a terrible idea. But it would be so funny."

[corn-fanfiction]

Oh My Love (Damien Karras x GN Reader Pt. 6)

(Pt. 5) (Pt.7)

“I'm a human first. Humans lie.”

I’m not ashamed of what I do and I have no reason to be.

“Which part were you lying about?”

Damien massages his jaw. Something passes over his face.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”

Your brows pull together. “That’s it?”

“Is there something else?”

“You apologize to me and suddenly the problem is gone?”

“The problem is my own to carry. I did you wrong and I want to apologize. That’s it. There’s nothing else.”

You nod mutely and watch the horizon. “Alright, then.”

-

Rating: M

Author’s notes: no tws apply

What comes next?

More of the same. Fleeting glances, stolen moments that almost, almost end in contact. Laughter and information shared among friends. Friends.

Two weeks of this.

You're sitting in his residency room with Joe there as well. The three of you are studying- reading through different books on the psychology of religion, demonic cults, the works. You're reading for you, Damien's reading your notes from the Satanic ritual book you now refuse to touch, and Dyer is reading some long forgotten, translated tome about Judeo-Christian folklore. You all have been at it for hours. A half eaten pizza lies cold and forgotten on the cot next to Joe. You've taken up at the desk chair with your feet resting on the bed, and Damien has claimed the remaining chair in the corner. The window is cracked to allow the cigarette smoke to linger out and a radio is softly playing Pavarotti behind you.

All things considered, it's a perfect way to spend an evening.

At some point, Joe checks his watch. “Ah shit. I got to go. Dinner with a parisher and her husband. You two got it from here?”

“Not that we won't miss your genius contributions,” you mutter.

“‘Genius’ is the best you can do?”

“I'm tired.”

“Then go home.” Joseph puts on his coat and hat and bids you and Damien goodbye. Soon, you and Damien are alone.

The atmosphere instantly changes. The last time you two had been alone in here together you'd ended up sleeping next to each other. That isn't something you're looking to repeat tonight. You have class in the morning.

“Any closer?” Damien asks without looking up from the notes. You blow a raspberry.

“Maybe? I'm going cross eyed.”

A few minutes of silence. There's a soft singing that drifts in through the window. Craning your neck, you see a group of carolers across the street in front of a row of townhouses.

You'd almost forgotten that Christmas is in five days.

“Any plans for Christmas?” You ask and close your book.

“Visiting my mother in New York.” His eyes flick up to your face to gauge your reaction. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I don't know. Probably not. My aunt and uncle and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. I don't mind it. I've never minded being alone. But it'll…” your throat catches at the start of a truth you haven't spoken yet. “It'll be the first Christmas I have without them.”

Damien nods silently. You can feel the words before they escape his lips.

“You know-”

“No.”

He looks at you in shock. “What?”

“I know what you're going to ask. And the answer is no.”

“Well let's assume you're wrong about what I'm going to ask. Listen, I'm sure Mama wouldn't mind another guest. She makes enough food for ten people.”

“Damien.”

“All you'd have to put up with is my uncle pestering you with invasive questions.”

“I don't need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I don't feel sorry for you. I feel empathetic towards you. Isn't that okay?”

“I don't want to intrude.”

“You won't.”

Won't. Not wouldn't. He already anticipates you saying yes.

“You don't have a car,” you say, taking one last drag of your cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window. You smash it into an ashtray on Damien's desk.

“No. I take the subway.”

“To Manhattan?”

“Brooklyn.”

“Right.” You nod. “With your luggage?”

“Just a bag.”

“What if it gets stolen?”

“What if the subway crashes into a giant rat? Are you coming or not?”

You watch the carolers diligently and let your eyes glaze over. There's a couple walking past with their young son. For a moment, you've never existed. Your parents and William somehow survived. But Damien would be alone right now.

No, you think. He has Joe.

Well, he's not asking Joe to Christmas, is he?

You don't have anything else going on. No better excuses than saying that you're afraid of crossing a line.

You shrug. What the hell.

“Sure. Why not.”

You don't leave until early Christmas morning as Damien drew the short straw for midnight mass on Christmas Eve. You guzzle down coffee and watch as Damien leads the parish in classic songs and hymns. You sing along under your breath. You suddenly think that you haven't listened to your music in a while. It's always you in the back of the church, enjoying Betty's company, watching as Damien or Joe, but usually Damien, give their homilies.

Once mass dismisses, Damien slips on a coat and you grab your things.

“Ready?”

You nod and squeeze your eyes.

“Are you going to make it?”

You nod your head through a nod. “I'll make it.”

Damien leads you to the closest subway stop; you've only been there once and it was during daylight. The good news is that the station is sparse. The bad news is that it echoes with loneliness. What few people there are seem to stare at Damien.

You look over at him and notice a stoic discomfort on his face.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“They're…staring at you.”

“It's the collar,” he says. “They never expect to see us outside of churches. And if they do, they want help.”

You two have made it to the northbound train stop. You glance around at some homeless people that stare at the two of you unabashed.

“And what kind of help are they looking for?”

“You never know until they're asking.”

“And you're above it?”

The sleep is talking. His face sours.

“No. But it's hard to stop. It's hard to start afterwards.”

You nod but you don't fully understand. The train comes soon and you both board. It's nearly empty. Over your shoulder you spare one last look to the men and women that continue to stare as you depart. They never asked you for help, sure, but you never offered it.

What a lonely place the world can be.

You awaken to Damien lightly shaking your arm. The voice overhead announces your arrival in Manhattan. Damien stands and offers you a hand.

“Were you awake the whole time?”

“I take this commute a lot. Come on, the next train leaves soon.”

You shuffle to the next stop. Thank god you're tired and Damien is surefooted. If you had to be any more alert you may just be terrified of the subway stations. The barrenness, the desolation. The way bodies drift in and out of tunnels like ghosts. At some point you lean against Damien slightly as you two wait for the second train. You steal a glance upwards. The swinging florescent light overhead casts a halo around his dark curls. How badly you want to touch them.

He looks down at you and smiles. From here, you notice something different. He's taken his collar off.

For the sake of comfort you decide not to address it, though you doubt in your current state you'd be able to with tact anyway.

There's the second train, then the third and final. You sleep the whole way through. Damien has many sleepless nights. What's a few hours on the train?

Christmas morning in Brooklyn is just as bustling as you had expected. You'd been to New York once: Times Square with your parents and a young William. You had gone to see The Sound of Music on Broadway. There was some humor in that, or perhaps irony, that you were still too tired to find.

You follow closely behind Damien as he leads you to a narrow sidewalk that borders a brown-stone apartment. Down the street there are children playing in the snow.

You can't help but notice, and you've gleaned some of Damien's past before, that this is a poor neighborhood. That there are dripping water stains and holes in the plaster inside the front entryway. Damien takes you upstairs to the third floor. He knocks on a door and then opens it.

“Mama? I'm here.”

You follow him inside and close the door behind you.

“Dimmi?” A stout elderly woman crosses from the kitchen. She is much shorter than Damien but they share remarkable features.

“Geia sou, Mamá,” Damien says as he kisses his mother on her cheek. You stand awkwardly in the doorway until she notices you.

“O, kalesnéos!” She exclaims and walks towards you. “And what is your name?”

You tell her and she breaks into a smile. She turns back to Damien. “Poly elkystikós!”

“Mamá,” Damien says. He sounds exasperated. You start to remove your coat but he notices and helps you out of it, hanging it along with his on a nearby hook.

“What did she say?”

Damien clears his throat. “Just that she's happy to have someone else here.”

You hum. Elkystikós.

“John! O anipsiós sou eínai aftós,” Mrs. Karras calls from the kitchen. Then, “Kai éfere énan kalesméno.”

Out of an adjoining room comes a man a bit younger than Mrs. Karras, but not by much. He comes over and pulls Damien into a hug.

“Dimmi, Dimmi, Dimmi. Still not too good for us, eh? And who did you bring with you?”

Damien introduces you to his Uncle John. The man nods, though his eyes keep flitting between you and Damien.

“Ah, anyway. Your mother has been cooking all morning. Help me set the table.”

John totters away with Damien at his heels, but not before he can turn around and give you a reassuring smile. You return it and rub your hands together, trying to shake the morning's cold.

You decide to head for the kitchen as Damien and John get set up in the living room for the meal. Mrs. Karras is busy at work, toiling over two pots on the stove and something else in the oven. You're almost afraid to interrupt her work.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Karras?”

She smiles at you over her shoulder.

“Come in! Just finishing up.”

“Anything I can help with? I'm not great at cooking- I'd burn water if given the opportunity.”

“You can stir?”

You nod and take over one of the pots, stirring it with a wooden spoon. She doesn't talk to you, just hums a tune you don't recognize.

“What are you singing.”

“Ah, kalanta.”

“Kalanta?”

“Christmas carols.”

“Oh! Well it sounds lovely.”

Mrs. Karras smiles at you and continues her work. You don't mind the quiet. Greek music- kalantas play on a nearby radio. There's something peaceful about settling into the task at hand.

“Dimmi!” Mrs. Karras calls. Damien comes to the kitchen.

“Mamá?”

“Take the pork from the oven, parakaló.”

Damien does, pressing his back to your back to slip into the small kitchen. He carefully takes the pork shoulder from the oven and places it on a rack on the counter.

“Anything else, Mamá?”

“Óchi, Dimmi.”

Mrs. Karras looks to you and wipes her hands on her apron.

“Okay. Dinner is on.”

Damien was right: Mrs. Karras cooked enough for ten people.

The pork roast, spanakopita, roasted potatoes, and of course wine. You had no problem loading up your plate with food.

“So, how do you know Dimmi?” John asks between bites. It’s not as casual a question as you’d prefer. There’s some skepticism laced within.

“I work at Holy Trinity.”

John’s eyebrows raise. “A priest?”

“No,” you laugh. “No, not for me. I’m a graduate student. I help Trinity translate Latin texts.”

“Ah, is there good money in that?”

You feel Damien stiffen slightly next to you. His chewing slows.

“Well, it certainly pays at least. It’s a pretty good deal to be paid through a degree.”

John hums. “Well. Sounds like you’ll put your degree to use. Not everyone does.”

Damien sets down his fork and wipes his mouth, setting a steely gaze on his uncle.

“Siopí , John!”

John lifts his hand in defense. “What did I say wrong? If there’s nothing wrong with it, Damien should not mind me speaking the truth.”

The table grows quiet. You clear your throat.

“Damien does really important work at Trinity,” you say through a smile. “Certainly more important than mine.”

“Don’t do that,” Damien tilts his head towards you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Belittle your work just to come to my defense. I’m not ashamed of what I do and I have no reason to be.”

“No, your poor mother only has to walk three flights of stairs.”

“John!”

“Speak plainly, Uncle John.”

“All I am saying is that you have a degree and could be making more money in private practice.”

“And what is it you do?”

John sets his eyes on you. You don’t know what’s come over you but your heart is pulsing in your ears. Damien rests a hand on your forearm under the table.

Your sleeves are rolled up.

The barrier has been broken.

“Factory accident when I was 56. Now I survive off my military pension. And what is it you do? Translate a dead language? Did you parents pay for you to get a useless degree?”

“Se proeidipoió,” Damien says.

“John, will you stop!”

At the mention of your parents you feel tears well up and you hate them.

“Now we're crying. Yes, yes. Meanwhile those poorer off suffer. I am very sorry.”

John pushes his way from the table and steps out into the hall. Damien tries to move his hand to sit atop yours but immediately upon contact you jerk away. Through tears, you gather up empty plates.

“I'll uh, get these washed, Mrs. Karras.”

You stumble into the kitchen and set the dishes in the sink as gently as you can, which may in fact have been anything but gentle. Somewhere behind you, the window opens and shuts.

Mrs. Karras comes in and takes the sponge from your hands as you scrub furiously against a plate.

“Próseche. It’s good china.”

You laugh through tears at Mrs. Karras’s kind smile. She jerks her head to the window.

“Go check.”

You nod, wipe the tears from your face. Carefully you go to the window and climb out onto the fire escape. Damien is looking out onto the street, the setting sun casting a rainbow hue onto the snow banks. Cigarette smoke curls into the cold air.

You wrap your arms around yourself and approach him.

“Is this where you came to brood as a kid?”

It is strange to think you’re actually in Damien’s childhood home. You think to yourself that you’ll have to check the walls for portraits of a chubby baby when you get back inside.

“You shouldn't have done that.”

You freeze and any humor you are attempting falls from your face.

“Shouldn't have done what?”

“Defended me.”

You draw closer. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Let me handle it.”

“He was treating you like shit!”

“He's my family.”

Damien’s trying to keep calm, but he delivers an intensity to let you know to drop it . Of course, you don’t.

“So? What does that have to do anything?”

He flicks out his cigarette and steps to you.

“If we were having dinner with your family and the same thing happened, what would you say?”

Shit . You think of that exact situation: in Aunt Grace’s gilded dining room, clean holly and poinsettias decorating the walls. Clean candles, perfect turkey, your young cousins sitting in their velvet Christmas best. And none of them can even look at you.

“It wouldn't be the same thing. You know what they'd say and you know how I'd feel.”

He takes a moment to look into your eyes. His face softens. “Well, maybe it's the same for me.”

You stutter. “But, you said…”

“I'm a human first. Humans lie.”

I’m not ashamed of what I do and I have no reason to be.

“Which part were you lying about?”

Damien massages his jaw. Something passes over his face.

“I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I reacted the way I did.”

Your brows pull together. “That’s it?”

“Is there something else?”

“You apologize to me and suddenly the problem is gone?”

“The problem is my own to carry. I did you wrong and I want to apologize. That’s it. There’s nothing else.”

You nod mutely and watch the horizon. “Alright, then.”

Damien’s eyes drop to the street below. “Snow’s really piled up down there.”

“When were you thinking of leaving?”

“Before the end of the day. Mama doesn’t have enough room for the four of us.”

You sneak a look to Damien. He notices.

“What?”

“Your mom made apple pie. She said it’s your favorite?”

Damien chuckles and hangs his head. Finally, a real reaction.

“She’s right. Alright, dessert.”

The four of you resign yourselves to a polite, if not tense dessert. By the end of it, you’re stuffed and listening to Mrs. Karras offers insight into Damien’s childhood. She walks you along the walls of the living room and shows you exactly what you wanted: chubby baby pictures of Damien. Then, Damien as a child in a school uniform. Then, Damien as a young adult, cheesing with a bloodied face and crooked nose, raising a trophy in the air.

“Holy…”

Damien comes up behind you. “Ah…didn’t think those were still here.”

“You were a boxer?”

“And a baseball player.”

“And a candlestick maker?”

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.”

“I don’t think it is.” Your eyes move to a photo of Damien in a graduation cap and gown. “Was this seminary or medical?”

Damien considers it for a moment. “Seminary…I think.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I must’ve been twenty or something, and after two graduations you start to forget them.”

“And yet…”

He eyes you warily. Maybe there’s humor there. Maybe there isn’t. “And yet?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “I think I was going to attempt a joke but my subconscious thought better of it.”

Damien lifts his sleeve and checks his watch. “Gee, it’s already half past seven. We ought to head out.”

Mrs. Karras poked her head around the corner. “No go! Door blocked.”

“What do you mean blocked?”

“The snow! It blocks the front door. Cannot go in or out. You must stay the night.”

“Mama,” Damien sighs. “We both have to work tomorrow.”

“See for yourself,” Mrs. Karras waves dismissively. “Don’t trust your Mama, Dimmi. Me hercule!”

Damien looks to you. “Let me go check.”

He leaves for a few minutes and you continue to browse the many photographs and trinkets around the apartment. Soon, Damien returns.

“Well, she was right. Completely blocked off. We’ll have to wait until they clear it in the morning.”

“Didn’t you say your mother doesn’t have enough beds? I don’t want to put her out. I can probably foot it to a hotel-”

“No, absolutely not. Especially in this weather and time of day. No, Uncle John takes the couch, you’ll have my bed and I’ll take the floor.”

You cross your arms. “Absolutely not! You’re old. Floor’s bad for your back. I’ll take the floor.”

He rolls his eyes. “‘Old’. Wisened.”

“Ancient.”

“Petulant.”

“Me?” You ask in mock offense. “Never.”

Mrs. Karras lights a fire and the four of you tune into the movie channel. It’s a Wonderful Life . The irony is not lost on either you or Damien. Each time a particular scene happens, you two share a knowing glance. An inside joke. A history.

Mrs. Karras goes to bed early and Uncle John needs the couch, so you and Damien sequester yourselves to his room. His childhood room. There, you see further proof of his life before priesthood. Secular books, boxing and baseball trophies, ribbons, medals. His bed is twin-size. Arguably big enough for two people, comfortably.

Damien lends you a spare set of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt promoting a local boxing ring. You test the size of the bed, scooching to the wall and making yourself as small as possible.

Damien has changed as well and is placing a single pillow and blanket on the floor.

“There’s room up here…” you mumble.

“There’s room down here, too.”

“Come up here or I’m coming down there.”

He doesn’t move.

“Fine.”

“If you’re not careful we’ll all start to think you just want to sleep next to me.”

“I want you to be comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable.”

You shift around. “I’m cold.”

“Put on a sweatshirt,” Damien mutters into his pillow.

“I’m lonely.”

“What else is new?”

“Ouch.”

Sleepiness begins to take you.

“Are you cold?” you ask. He doesn’t say anything. “There’s plenty more blankets.” You roll to the edge of the bed just enough to see Damien pulling the threadbare blanket tighter around himself.

He jumps when you toss the comforter on top of him. He’s right: there is more room on the floor. You flop a pillow onto his face for good measure and slink to the floor. With the now pile of blankets and pillows, you’re just as comfortable as before, and you notice Damien relaxing.

“Better?”

Damien hums. While you'd like to think you're approaching some friendly banter, you know you're both tired and decide not to push him. His back is to you and you figure that's a fine way to go to sleep.

And, at some point when you wake up in the middle of the night, Damien's turned to face you and you suddenly realize you've never seen him asleep, though he's seen you in that state. His mouth is parted slightly, his breathing soft, his face finally relaxed and looking at least ten years younger without the lines on his face being exaggerated by stress. You yearn to run your finger along his jagged features. To brush his soft hair away. To kiss him.

To what?????

You turn away abruptly and squeeze your eyes shut to block out the intrusive thought. No. No way.

You've gotten away with the ambiguity of it all until now. How could you let it happen?

But then, you remember. He has touched you. He touched you in the way you weren't supposed to. Innocuous, sure. But you both knew. You both know.

Maybe you're delusional. Maybe you're not. There's really only one way to find out.

[the-chronicle-of-holy-days]

Day 13

Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli

V

1. O my beautiful God! I swim in Thy heart like a trout in the mountain torrent.

2. I leap from pool to pool in my joy; I am goodly with brown and gold and silver.

3. Why, I am lovelier than the russet autumn woods at the first snowfall.

4. And the crystal cave of my thought is lovelier than I.

5. Only one fish-hook can draw me out; it is a woman kneeling by the bank of the stream. It is she that pours the bright dew over herself, and into the sand so that the river gushes forth.

6. There is a bird on yonder myrtle; only the song of that bird can draw me out of the pool of Thy heart, O my God!

7. Who is this Neapolitan boy that laughs in his happiness? His lover is the mighty crater of the Mountain of Fire. I saw his charred limbs borne down the slopes in a stealthy tongue of liquid stone.

8. And Oh! the chirp of the cicada!

9. I remember the days when I was cacique in Mexico.

10. O my God, wast Thou then as now my beautiful lover?

11. Was my boyhood then as now Thy toy, Thy joy?

12. Verily, I remember those iron days.

13. I remember how we drenched the bitter lakes with our torrent of gold; how we sank the treasurable image in the crater of Citlaltepetl.

14. How the good flame lifted us even unto the lowlands, setting us down in the impenetrable forest.

15. Yea, Thou wast a strange scarlet bird with a bill of gold. I was Thy mate in the forests of the lowland; and ever we heard from afar the shrill chant of mutilated priests and the insane clamour of the Sacrifice of Maidens.

16. There was a weird winged God that told us of his wisdom.

17. We attained to be starry grains of gold dust in the sands of a slow river.

18. Yea, and that river was the river of space and time also.

19. We parted thence; ever to the smaller, ever to the greater, until now, O sweet God, we are ourselves, the same.

20. O God of mine, Thou art like a little white goat with lightning in his horns!

21. I love Thee, I love Thee.

22. Every breath, every word, every thought, every deed is an act of love with Thee.

23. The beat of my heart is the pendulum of love.

24. The songs of me are the soft sighs:

25. The thoughts of me are very rapture:

26. And my deeds are the myriads of Thy children, the stars and the atoms.

27. Let there be nothing!

28. Let all things drop into this ocean of love!

29. Be this devotion a potent spell to exorcise the demons of the Five!

30. Ah God, all is gone! Thou dost consummate Thy rapture. Falútli! Falútli!

31. There is a solemnity of the silence. There is no more voice at all.

32. So shall it be unto the end. We who were dust shall never fall away into the dust.

33. So shall it be.

34. Then, O my God, the breath of the Garden of Spices. All these have a savour averse.

35. The cone is cut with an infinite ray; the curve of hyperbolic life springs into being.

36. Farther and farther we float; yet we are still. It is the chain of systems that is falling away from us.

37. First falls the silly world; the world of the old grey land.

38. Falls it unthinkably far, with its sorrowful bearded face presiding over it; it fades to silence and woe.

39. We to silence and bliss, and the face is the laughing face of Eros.

40. Smiling we greet him with the secret signs.

41. He leads us into the Inverted Palace.

42. There is the Heart of Blood, a pyramid reaching its apex down beyond the Wrong of the Beginning.

43. Bury me unto Thy Glory, O beloved, O princely lover of this harlot maiden, within the Secretest Chamber of the Palace!

44. It is done quickly; yea, the seal is set upon the vault.

45. There is one that shall avail to open it.

46. Nor by memory, nor by imagination, nor by prayer, nor by fasting, nor by scourging, nor by drugs, nor by ritual, nor by meditation; only by passive love shall he avail.

47. He shall await the sword of the Beloved and bare his throat for the stroke.

48. Then shall his blood leap out and write me runes in the sky; yea, write me runes in the sky.

This day is for my Cult ❤️❤️❤️ years favorite is in bold.

Artwork from https://www.lisasterle.com/mwt