#exclamation point my beloved

[miiints-repostiory]

PRETTY PEOPLEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

gala gala gala stuff!! my goal is to draw as many ppl in the thread as possible so no colors for you! if i colored all of this it would be hell! its also more loose for this reason!

from top to bottom and right to left, we have:

@beartitled's adventure line; friendship? 👉👈

@kirchefuchs' stan and narry; THEYRE SO!!

@amarieth's narry; dont be shy! this gala's for everyone :D! i couldnt tell if the stripeys were a texture or a pattern, so i went with pattern

@heavensstar's GORGEUS KING HELLO??? im, love he?? me when me when HE?? heem.

and @rosieemms' narry; he is so very handsome! unfortunately for Aesop tho lol; ive worn like this exact outfit before!! it made me feel very gender

alright back to drawing! bye byeee

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Google search for how to make myself seem more chill and casual when showing affection and the only result is just the word lol

[hpdfag]

i need to ramble hold on. spawns in a cut so that people dont get blasted by unfiltered posting on their dash. i feel the need to disclaim that im only like 50% lucid right now so this might be disorganized or complete word salad i can't really tell right now

i love him so much it feels like it's consuming me from the inside out. i don't want to do anything that isn't for him. the only reason i haven't quit my job is because i want to make him proud of me. even playing games makes me guilty, because i know it's not with him. i married harvey in stardew. i ate the stardrop for getting 12 hearts as i kissed him. the taste reminded me of hinata. it's a strange irony.

this false body feels like it's trapping me, keeping me from achieving my true metamorphosis. there are streetlights glimmering in the distance. as i try to move towards them they always fade away. the morning will come in 7 hours and 43 minutes and the sun will rise and it won't blind me awake. i'm not reverent enough.

i should pray. not to jesus, not to any other false prophet. i should pray to Him. maybe that will bring me salvation? maybe that will free me from this hell? maybe it happened because i was unworthy of being one of his trusted apostles. if i was as holy as he was it would have been different, i would still have been beneath him but i would have served my divine purpose as his servant.

but that's not important. i dont think. im jor sure. i hate it. i hate Him. i feel like i should Worship him. there's a certain something i still havent fixed a glitch in my code i need ocean breeze summer sun beach sand shining brilliance he's perfect i need him i need warm sun and dry land i need to be with him on the floor i need to hold him i need need need need need need need.

more than air more than food more than clean clothes more than water more than anything else more than i need this terrible mortal life i need to become worthy for him of his love of his care of his touch i wont deny that i selfishly want him to hold me and touch me even though im unworthy even though im no more than dirt beneath him i desire him so deeply

[advancement-made]

hm... you sure you arent projecting? something tells me youre projecting.

Well, technically, that wasn't me. And she was stupid, too.

[war-causing-interrobang]

MAH BOI This Spaghetti Pingas Luigi! Gay!

YOUR CODE TASTES LIKE MLG DORITIOS & 7UP BTW

[dahul-conlang]

getting paralyzed with fear after i hit send on that ask. very silly. but yes dahul is already very cool. absolutely love the use of "carry" in that sense. and your interesting posts blog is also frankly incredible. we need more central places to see all the cool stuff everyone else is doing. thank you so much for spinning up and running that.

I overthought my response for like three hours, silly anxious times for everyone

I'm delighted that anyone is enjoying either conlang blog! I'm open to suggestions too, if anyone knows more conlang blogs I could follow for the interesting conlang blog!

[bitterpngs]

Hope your weeks going ok! What are your favourite S T S G au's ?

thank you anon <33333 i got some work done on my essay yesterday so i’m happy :] will try to continue today if i can

hmmm favorite AUs?? aahh there are so many good ones. i’ll list some that come to mind.

time loop and time travel aus!!! band aus, canon divergent, modern/no power aus (like hs/college or at some job or other typical settings), something with horror, ummm… angel/devil, vampire/vampire hunter.. fantasy… hmmm. that’s all i can think of rn, tho ik there’s a lot more. i really like aus in general tbh. i think it’s fun placing characters in different kinds of settings and situations :3

[sneakyfox55]

IN THE CLEAR YET

IN

THE

CLEAR

YET

GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lurkinginnernarrator]

“Shen Qingqiu! What is this nonsense about Qing Jing requisitioning a disguise for one of its members?! You would dare send one of your little disciples trussed up like a pretty young mistress! Even I thought you better than”–

Qi Qingqi’s voice cut off on an extremely strangled note. She and the other Peak Lords all seemed unable to capture an ounce of oxygen.

Cang Qiong’s finest were gathered in a elegant war room, massive tables shoved to the side, covered with maps and intelligence reports: A mind-numbing amount of information scattered across sheaves of paper and neatly written on large boards; they spanned the walls not open to the serene nature of Qing Jing’s outdoors.

The murmuring of focused and purposeful Qing Jing disciples hushed at Qi Qingqi’s outraged exclamation and the sudden appearance of a majority of their shibo.

In the midst of the room, Shen Qingqiu stood, hands frozen in the action of sheathing a dagger to his inner thigh. While normally, such a sight would be arresting enough, it paled in comparison to the vision Qing Jing’s Lord made currently.

His eyes caught wide and surprised were rimmed with coal and rouge, claret lips parted infinitesimally. Gentle strands of hair framed his face and cascaded down his curved back. Hair ornaments tinkled and glittered in the silken black waves.

Delicate, airy robes flirted with graceful wrists, red lacquered nails making a pleasing contrast. Carmine and the tones of blushing rose danced about Shen Qingqiu, gentle fabric draping from his shapely frame; soft skin of his collarbones an–and the rounded mound of his, hi-his bust? Exposed. As was the refined line of sinewy thigh.

S-sshink!

Shen Qingqiu’s hand leaves the handle of the blade, nebulous skirts falling back into place, his pale thighs veiled from sight once more.

“Qi-shimei, Liu-shidi, Zhangmen-shixiong?”– Shen Qingqiu's eyes quickly take in the numerous uninvited visitors, yet his lilting voice doesn’t quicken from its whiplike cadence –”To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Yue-shixiong and my shidimen?”

For some unknowable reason, Sect Master Yue and the Bai Zhan War God forsook courtesy for silence.

“Rather, to what does this Master owe my beloved sect siblings appearance,” the polished voice drawled, “ whose purpose is no doubt to meddle in the affairs of a Qing Jing operation? Without, may I add, any proper knowledge of the purpose of this operation to begin with?”

Mu Qingfang, who to this point was standing unobtrusively to the side, stepped forward, courteously greeting the Maste– Lady? Of Qing Jing.

His fellow peak lords prayed blessings, to be gifted such a level headed martial brother!

“These shidi apologize for the discourtesy, Shen-shixiong.” Mu Qingfang’s voice may have hesitated, or stuttered, and almost uttered ‘shijie’ but no one noticed because they were too caught up in their own lawless thoughts.

A Qing Jing disciple helpfully handed Shen Qinqqiu a fan. With a crack! It met his open palm, a gavel descrying doom.

Haloed in light, the Qing Jing Master stood like a wrathful goddess, a holy judge tired of the sullying presence of mortals.

Qing Jing’s Master, when garbed in his usual attire, was a sharp, intimidating figure. Graceful in his execution of masculinity, not unlike a dagger. Moreso, then, donning the mantle of femininity. Some intangible attributes changed, that when masculine, repelled, yet when feminine compelled. Those certain peak lords were unprepared to handle such a thing.

Shen Qingqiu tsked, turning his back he subsequently ignored them after hand-waving a disciple into acting as the hospitality.

The wrong-footed peak lords were bundled off to the side and laden with tea and light victuals, being appeased into silence and unobtrusiveness by snacks. If some of the scholarly disciples secretly thought of it as the kiddie table, that's for them to know, isn’t it?

[chaotic-archaeologist]

Yes! You get 100 free articles a month! You should also 100% check out your local library, which probably has subscriptions to some scholarly journals and can also help you get access to all sorts of other materials! Like maybe Life in Copper Age Britain, which details the arrival of the Bell Beaker people in the British Isles.

Your local library is also a great place to go if you need help with the research process! They can help you figure out what kinds of resources are best for your needs.

-Reid

I've been inspired by haraldr halfdan's archeological minecraft builds series on youtube and want to do the same in the terrafirmacraft mod, do you know of any cool (preferably small) copper age sites to get me started?

Unfortunately, the copper age (chalcolithic) is very far out of my realm of expertise as a historical/contemporary archaeologist working in North America. If you wanted to know about the Old Copper Culture, I could maybe tell you a little bit about that, but not much more than wikipedia. Same thing for the copper age.

I would direct you to do some research on your own. Google is fine, although the results from that search engine are increasingly shit, so maybe go with something like Duck Duck Go. The Smithsonian Magazine has some good articles, and you can also check @jstor and Google Scholar for scholarly articles.

@minecraft-inspo, any thoughts?

-Reid

[medu-nefer]

everyone was doing this with their native languages so i thought i'd give it a try too 💀

OG → translated

Apologies, but I'm busy. You'll have to come back later. → Apologies, but I'm busy. Please come back later.

[but it's a form you'd use when speaking to a colleague at least, definitely not a stranger - i work at a pharmacy and i would never address a patient this way. If you want to be polite, you'll say "proszę wrócić później"]

I think I've waited long enough. → I think I waited too long.

Hello, my beloved phantom.

Have you come again to haunt me? → Have you come again to scare me?

[💀💀]

Haunt you? → Scare?

[What did you do to him, polish runaan's phantom 😭]

I see you everywhere.

Hear your voice when you aren't there. But I am begging you, Runaan, leave me be. → I hear your voice when you aren't there, but I'm begging you, Runaan, leave me.

[not leave him be, as in peace. just leave him. like you could leave a sandwich on your desk]

Let me let you go. → Let me let you out.

[go runaan, be wild 😌😌]

But I made you a promise. → I made you a promise.

And I long to make peace with its breaking.

It's not broken, Ethari. My promise, I've kept it. → I didn't break it, Ethari. I kept my promise.

[he says it more like "i kept my...... promise"]

It's me. I'm home. → It's me, I came back.

My heart.

My heart.

[we did get an exclamation point though 👀]

[hoechlinanddylan]

SDCC IWTV signing experience:

- The “Mayfair Witches” cast was beautifully chaotic and their personalities themselves made me want to watch the show. They also drew all over my poster of Alex Daddario since she wasn’t there which was hilarious.

- Delainey Hayles was sweet and lovely and I’m so glad I got to tell her she was amazing in season 2. “Did you truly enjoy it?” Beloved…it’s all I can talk about.

- Assad Zaman: maybe the kindest man I ever met. Immediately shook my hand and introduced himself, clocked my xmen shirt and then started talking about Xmen97 and how he loved Nightcrawler. I told him he could totally play him and he got super excited.

- Sam Reid……gonna be honest: I may have blacked out because he was so beautiful. But he asked my name, that I remember, and added an exclamation point:

[S: “Are you and the girl who just left friends?”

Me: “No we just met 5 minutes ago but yeah now we’re best friends”

S: *laughs*

Me: *dies*]

He asked if I was going to the panel afterwards which sadly I wasn’t because I was tight on time as it was and he was like “Well, we met now so that’s all that matters. Everything shown comes out immediately anyways!” Thanks, Sam lol

[unpopulargoose]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WX MY BELOVED!!!!! a day to be praised!! to be loved!! more than you already are lmao

anyway! heres almost 15 hours of work (not including the approximate hour it took to write the image description)

i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love them i love th-

Image description under the cut

[Image description: A three page comic of WX-78 and Wormwood from Don’t Starve Together. WX-78 is an automaton. Their arms, torso, and legs are brown and segmented. The rest of their body is orange. Their chest has a compartment on it. They have sleeve-like shoulders and boot-like feet. Their hands resemble gloves. Their face plate separate from the rest of their head. There are bolts on either side of their head to look like ears. Wormwood is a plant man with yellow vines making up his body. His head is shaped like a cornucopia with a singular leaf at the top of it. He has a jagged smile. He has a large green gem on his chest. He has green leaves sprouting from his neck like a collar. He has leaves sprouting out of his wrists to act as hands and leaves sprouting from his ankles to act as feet. WX speaks in all caps with a black rectangular speech bubble with yellow text. Wormwood has a light green circular bubble with green text. First page transcript: In the first panel Wormwood is covering WX’s eyes. WX: "Are we almost there?" Wormwood: "Mhm!" In the second panel, Wormwood removed his hands from WX’s eyes. WX is squinting. There is a small “blink blink” next to their head. Wormwood: "Tada!!" In the third panel, WX’s eyes widen and they are blushing and yellow pupils appear in their eye sockets. Wormwood’s hands are on WX’s shoulders. The fourth panel is a scene of a table surrounded by trees, grass, and a berry bush. On the table is a birthday cake, a pink present, a red robot, and a triangular terrarium with two robot eyes in it. Next to the table is a flying robot named Jimmy. In the fifth panel, Jimmy turned to face WX. The robot eyes moved around in the terrarium. Jimmy: "Beep beep!" Wormwood: "Your friends here too!" In the sixth panel, WX's eye lids are lowered and they are still blushing. WX: "Wormwood..." Second page transcript: In the first panel, Wormwood is walking towards the table as WX watches him. WX: "Did you do all of this?" In the second panel, Wormwood is at the table grabbing something. Wormwood: "Friends helped!" In the third panel, Wormwood is holding up the pink present with a big smile. Wormwood: "Look!" In the fourth panel, Wormwood is holding the present out to WX who is blushing again. The background is now pinkish-purple with bubbles. Wormwood: "Happy birthday!!" In the fifth panel, Wormwood clasps his hands together and is smiling. There are sparkles around him. Wormwood: "Open it!" In the sixth panel, WX opens the gift and is wide-eyed. Their pupils show up again and they're blushing harder. There are two exclamation points next to their head. In the seventh panel WX is reaching into the gift. Third page transcript: In the first panel, WX is staring at the gift in their hand. The gift is purposefully obscured. The second panel has both WX and Wormwood as Wormwood excitedly stares at WX. He is now blushing. Wormwood: "You like it?" In the third panel, WX looks at Wormwood. In the fourth panel, WX leans onto Wormwood who is blushing harder now and looks surprised. There are two exclamation marks next to his head. In the fifth panel we see the gift in WX's hand. It is a small wooden carved figure of the two of them. WX: "I love it." End is written in the bottom right of the panel.

[aluria-sevhex]

so now i'm in Act 3 i guess

notes:

-methinks Siffrin is panicking

-plot twist: you can't escape the time loop until you deal with your... ???

-no you little bitch don't pretend everything's fine that's not good for your mental health

-YOU *KNEW* THIS WOULD HAPPEN??? FUCK YOU LOOP

-i'm not giving up you little shit

-ok Loop what IS your deal. you *asked* to be here???

-ok i need to help Mira with her mysterious papers

-:O A HINT AT ODILE'S FIELD OF STUDY

-the music is more unnerving than it was in Act 2. also it sounds glitchy now

-oh it's normal now. was i just suffering from an actual audio glitch and just. didn't question it? like "oh yeah ofc it's glitching things are fucked now"

-...that enemy didn't spawn down here in Act 2.

-eh ima get off for the night

-late in the evening on July 4th and i am back yippee this is probably a bad idea considering how long my play sessions get

-YEAH THE TITLE MUSIC MY BELOVED

-ok i can't help Bonnie on this loop- HOLD UP. DID SIF'S ART CHANGE IN THE MENUS? YEAH HE'S NOT SMUG ANYMORE ToT also i think their profile used to say "It's you!" with an exclamation point but now it says "It's you." with a period :(

-rip my darling blorbo Paper α V

-side note: idk if i've mentionwd this before but i like how the levels, stats, and skills all show the fact that you're near the end of the journey (ex. Odile having Rock, Paper, and Scissors III at the start)

-I FOUND THE BOOK BONNIE WAS LOOKING AT.

hmmm... death rituals...

-hehe i found the stostorage roomoom

-NONE OF THESE BARRELS WILL LEMME TAKE THE NUTS >:(

-another book in the headache-inducing language i can't read.

-weird shit going on: Siffrin, Loop, the King, the disappearing island, the headache-inducing shit

-hehehe yeah Isa i'm sure you'd *love* to pet your taciturn hopeful-future-partner

-it's not just the menu art i think Siffrin's battle art is also less happy. :(

-HOLD UP. also! Siffrin's profile used to call them the Traveler but now he's called the Wanderer. :(

-hehe. Sif hit the counter and said nya again. cat Sif

-this enemy ALSO did not spawn on this floor before. fucking giant hand thing

-ok thinking: can't help Isa until i've helped everybody else in one loop, can't help Bonnie on this loop and i need to prove i know them via their favorite foods, need to help Mira and Odile...

-thank you Loop for being available- OH I CAN BRING UP THE SADNESSES BEING DIFFERENT :O

-ok need to help Mira with the papers. some are in her dorm. Odile wants to read a familytale. i'll have to find one in the library or secret library. need to find out Bonnie's favorite foods by trying different ones. maybe i should loop forward a bunch to different areas, find out their favorite foods, and THEN do the big loop where i help everybody!

-i need to talk to the King eventually

-looping forward to Floor 1's end

-fun fact i'm keeping track of all my causes of death in another note. i'll share it when i finish the game

-man i also need to figure out how to help Mira's fan and remember where the last book issue is...

-the looping screen art is nice :]

-yeah yeah i need to beat this asshole to get to the snacks

-hold up. the coin fell on heads this time. strange...

-last time i picked plantain chips. this time i'm picking cookies. would probably be good to check what Bonnie eats each time

-ok they like rice. time to loop forward!

-while i'm on Floor 2 i might as well find a familytale for Odile...

-LOOP 24? THE MATH DOES NOT CHECK OUT.

-WAIT THE GAME ACKNOWLEDGES IT. HUH. YEAH I SHOULD BE ON 23. SIFFRIN IS SUS 𐐘

-fuck. i accidentally moved forwards when i meant to go to the library. it's fine i'l help her when i help everybody

-oh great i have to fight these assholes again.

-fuck. i think i fucked up and didn't make sure Mira had Pretty Moving Cure. i might get a game over.

-this is by far my dumbest death

-LOOP 27??? I WENT FROM 24-27

-gonna try to be less liberal with loop usage because the skipping is kinda scaring me

-aw... Siffrin's friends try not to touch him as they squeeze through that's nice... wait. he seems to not be remembering why. did he forget that they don't like being touched... maybe. maybe i should call Loop.

-well that was unhelpful

-time to adjust the memories i have equipped. welcome back my lovely scrimbly blorbos Lovely Moving Cure and Paper α V

-hm. ok so the boulanger in Dormont has a familytale...

-oh my god we're discussing colors. what happened to them.

-THEY STILL EXIST. BUT WE FORGOT HOW TO SEE THEM. ???

-*SIFFRIN*. HOW IS THIS FAMILIAR. JFC YOU ARE SUS

-plot twist! Siffrin is from our world and forgor that he got isekai'd! :P (i love making random bullshit predictions it's very entertaining)

-oh yeah so RE: Siffrin's altered art: Sif's time-frozen portrait used to look panicked but now it looks calm

-hehe openphrase123 worked

-love Sif's habit of picking up random shiny shit. magpie or crow behavior.

-oh? Siffrin didn't always hate croissants?

...bruh.

-also damn shout-out to Mira's crisis over not knowing some of the people

-the combination of Siffrin's silly attack names and serious battle portraits feels so *wrong*

-:o Sif learned a new skill

-ok i'm gonna log off for the night

hey if you wanna read all of my posts as i play through ISAT, they are all tagged as #Aluria plays ISAT for the first time (please don't spoil)

bruh when i was making this post i accidentslly pasted the notes again there instead of pasting the tag name. that truly was. delightful. to go through and delete it all

also shout-out to those of you who i keep seeing popping up in my notifs liking these posts ;) and also anybody who takes the time to read all this stuff :D i know that *i* like seeing other people's reactions when they experience stuff i like for the first time so i'm very happy to provide that for others! also it's nice to see some of the responses ^-^ :D

[sugaredoleander]

i just took my final ancient greek exam of the semester yesterday and have been avoiding studying for my microbiology exam all day. so let's talk about these three devastating lines from anne carson's translation of herakles

and by talk about i mostly mean here's a bunch of different translations

Ἡρακλῆς μαινόμενο�� - Herakles by Euripides, lines 1398-1400

c. 416 BC.

original text in Ancient Greek via the Perseus Digital Library

Euripides. The Complete Greek Drama, edited by Whitney J. Oates and Eugene O'Neill, Jr. in two volumes. 1. Heracles, translated by E. P. Coleridge. New York. Random House. 1938.

Herakles translated by Anne Carson in Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (pg 81-82) 2006

Internet Archive

H of H playbook by Anne Carson (not a direct translation but a reimagining of Herakles, 2021)

Euripides: Herakles, translated by Tom Sleigh, Oxford University Press, 2001

Ian C. Johnston, 2020

Heracles, translated by William Arrowsmith, from Euripides III: Heracles, the Trojan Women, Iphigenia Among the Taurians, Ion (The Complete Greek Tragedies - Euripides III, University of Chicago Press, 2013 (Arrowsmith's translation itself is from 1956)

my own translation with notes under the cut

* everywhere that I have used [] I have inserted a word that does not technically appear in the original text.

Theseus Stop! Give [your] hand [to me], [your] servant [and] friend. 

*more literally: Stop! Give [your] hand to a servant/helper [and] friend.

* Ancient Greek uses different punctuation, though the : symbol is used roughly the same way as it is in English and exclamation points are not used, verb conjugation in English does not differentiate the imperative mood, which παῦσαι (sg.2.aor.imperat.med-pass) is in, and often the way we show imperative mood in written English is with an exclamation point. 

-The word δίδου (sg.2.praes.imperat.act.) is also imperative. 

-παῦσαι is said in reference to Herakles’ earlier lines, lamenting his - well, the plot of Herakles.

* The particle δὲ has been omitted from the translation. It’s usually translated as but, and, or then. 

* The possessive pronoun your - σός - does not appear but is implied.

* χεῖρ᾽ is the short version of χειρός - hand

* ὑπηρέτῃ φίλῳ are both nouns in dative, here answering the question to whom? The word and - καί - does not appear between the two, likely because poetic language. The word ὑπηρέτῃ can also mean rower, an underling, servant, attendant, assistant, and is often translated here as helper. The word φίλῳ is a form of φίλος - friend, loved, beloved, dear

Herakles No, lest I wipe off blood on your garments.

* Word order changed slightly. The first word is ἀλλ᾽ - poetically shortened version of ἀλλά - usually translated as but, however, here: lest.

* ἐξομόρξωμαι (sg.1.aor.med-pass.) means wipe off or wipe away, but stain is, in my opinion, not an inaccurate translation in regards to the meaning conveyed.

* πέπλοις means any woven cloth, here usually translated as garments, robes or clothes. 

* αἷμα means blood and is grammatically either nominative or accusative, probably accusative, μὴ means not and σοῖς is a second person possessive pronoun in plural dative.

Theseus Wipe it off, spare naught: I [do] not refuse [you].

* ἔκμασσε (sg.2.praes.imperat.act.) - wipe it off - is imperative again, so is φείδου (sg.2.praes.imperat.med-pass.) - spare.

* μηδέν I translated as naught as in nothing, οὐκ means not

* ἀναίνομαι is in sg.1.praes.ind. - so present tense would be the most literal translation, ie. I do not refuse you, but the meaning might best be conveyed in English with the use of future tense, ie. I will not refuse you. The word can also mean reject, deny, renounce and disown, or be ashamed. Possible other translations: I don’t deny you; I won’t reject you; I am not ashamed; I won’t renounce you.)

That's all on Herakles, the rest is me rambling about Ancient Greek grammar for interested parties (mostly myself). If I could put a second cut here, I would.

Some further notes on the grammatical cases and verb conjugation. You'll have noticed that I've followed verbs with parentheses with some abbreviations. I'll break those down a little for those not in the know: unlike English, Ancient Greek has different endings to denote the person in verb conjugation - 1.sg being first person singular as in I, and so on with 2.sg - you, 3.sg he/she/singular they, 1.pl - we, 2.pl - plural you, 3.pl - plural they. There's also technically an extant dual form in some texts (when speaking of a pair of two) but it's rare. Ancient Greek conjugation also varies a lot by the temporal tense, the ancient greek times are present (praesens - praes.), future (futurum and futurum III), imperfect (imperfectum), strong and weak aorist (aor. - this one doesn't exist in any modern languages and is a bit of a jeremy bearimy but is usually translated as either present or past, depending on the context), perfect (perfectum), and pluperfect (pluscuamperfectum) - all of these except imperfect and pluperfect (which only have indicative forms) then have various forms - indicative (ind.), infinitive (inf.), imperative (imperat.), optative (opt.) and conjunctive (coni.). Verbs also have an active (act.) and middle and passive or active and mediopassive (med-pass.) form, except some verbs only have mediopassive versions and are thus translated as either active or mediopassive depending on the context. This is as complicated (and fun!) as it sounds. (editors note: the fun! was not sarcastic - i am a medstudent who hasn't had to take two semesters worth of classes on this, nor do i have to keep taking ancient greek next semester but i'm going to)

Nouns in Ancient Greek also have grammatical cases, nominative, genitive, dative, accusative and vocative, as do adjectives. They also have genders, and adjectives of course have positive, comparative and superlative (good, better, best) forms.

Ancient Greek also uses a lot of participles, which is like a noun-ified verb. Participles are also a concept in English, just - a lot simpler in English, and also I think in English a participle is a verb that has some characteristics of an adjective or noun, whereas in Ancient Greek participles and verbal adjectives are separate concepts. Participles are derived from verbs and have the same grammatical cases as nouns, nominative, genitive, dative, accusative and vocative, and singular and plural versions, and have three genders, masc., fem. and neut. - they also have active and mediopassive forms, and differ based on the temporal conjugation of the verb, retaining its augment, reduplication, characteristic added letters (for example σ in the future tense, and θη + σ in the passive future) or lack thereof, also they can have different endings or roots based on the tense. So, yeah, "conjugate and translate this verb in part.fut.pass.sg.masc.gen. and II aor.part.act.sg.acc.fem." is what a test question might look like at my level of studying ancient greek.

Sentence constructions also differ from English, some of the most common ones are AcI, NcI, genitivus absolutus. accusativus duplex and nominativus duplex. They also will often skip words (particularly the verb to be they often deemed unnecessary) and poetic language is its own can of worms with its own theoretical dialects and prosody.

All of this is like, barely scratching the surface, there's also a bunch of different dialects, stuff varies by era, all of the noun cases have like, a Bunch of different uses, and it's all terribly interesting.

[ladylaviniya]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 — 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 || 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤!𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐗 𝐋𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 (𝐌𝐲 𝐎𝐅𝐂)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐄𝐚𝐭, 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭-𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝐤

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟕𝟓𝟕

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:

★𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. 𝐌𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥!!

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: "𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞" 𝐛𝐲 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬

Laviniya was slowly collecting the pieces of the cyvasse board when a boisterous exclamation broke their conversation.

“Belovveddd LiiiiLaaaccc!” came a drunken melody.  

The words “Beloved Lilac” meant to be in reference to her eyes and sweet nature rang out through the Godswood, muffled but distinct enough to reach her ears. It sent a jolt through her, and her composure seemed to waver behind the concealing veil of her mask. A mix of annoyance and resignation flickered across her features, as the echoes of the intoxicated greeting lingered in the air.

She swallowed hard, her unease evident as she cast a dismayed glance towards the source of the call and the accompanying lute music. Her mind raced, a sudden wave of discomfort washing over her as she recognized the situation unfolding. It seemed ironic that she had so skilfully avoided any increasingly unpleasant encounters with him up until this point, only to be confronted by him at his worst at the last moment.

Ser Trevor, a persistent and troublesome presence in his own right, was even more so when he’d indulged in one too many drinks. He had a habit of being quite insistent in his pursuit.

“Excuse me Ser Martyn,” Her voice held a sense of urgency as she spoke, and her actions moved swiftly and decisively. Without further delay, she gathered the pieces of the game into a pile before quickly scooping up her share. Despite her obvious haste, she paused momentarily before delicately removing the remaining pieces from the lord’s grasp.

Lord Martyn looked understandably perplexed, but he took her abrupt action in stride, his lips curving into a bemused smirk as he allowed her to do as she pleased.

“Where are you hiding, my sweet dragoness? I can smelllll your perfuuuume! Oh Fair lady, Lilaaaa!” called Ser Trevor. The Belmore knight must’ve been getting closer. Where was her Lady Myrielle? Still with the Squire?

With the hastily delivered words, she quickly dipped into a swift curtsy, hoping to cut her thought short in a timely manner. She had managed to take a step or two away from him before a pang of guilt seized her, it called her to turn back to face him once more.

Despite the urgency, there was also a subtle reluctance evident in her actions as she paused, a hint suggesting that she had not minded his companionship throughout the evening. She slowly pivoted on her heel to face him, her steps now less hasty than before.

He rose to his feet as she faces him, his impressive stature becoming all the more apparent as he stood before her. The top of his mask and head touched the branches of the Godswood Tree that surrounded them. She hadn’t fully realized just how tall he was until they were both standing side by side, and she had to tilt her head back to meet his masks gaze. He was withholding a laugh as his lips twitched with amusement.

Her voice took on a grave tone, her previous urgency replaced by a seriousness. “Trust me, Ser Martyn,” she murmured, her voice laced with deadly earnestness. “You do not want to find yourself as the object of Ser Trevor’s envy.”

She held out her hand.

Without hesitation, Lord Martyn gracefully accepted her offered arm, his long strides quickening to match her step fleeing deeper into the gardens.

His laughter rang out, echoing the fountain waters they hastily passed, his amused tone cutting through the air. “By the gods,” he chuckled, “what on earth could have been so dire that warranted such a hasty escape? Had I realized you were constantly pursued by suitors, I would have been more mindful of our time together.”

She slowed once she could not longer hear the wretched voice of a drunken Ser Trevor.

Walking alongside her newfound acquaintance, even friend, her voice filled with a renewed sense of mirth as they quickly distanced themselves from the party above ground. With a hint of diplomatic restraint, she continued, “It was just a knight who fancies himself as a poet.”

Despite the urge to openly critique the knights lack of talents in the arts, she refrained, opting to maintain a semblance of diplomacy.

Trevor was typically quick-witted and lively, enjoying revelry and laughter; however, his singing and lute-playing were far from exceptional. His songwriting skills weren’t necessarily bad, but it was everything else about his performance that fell short. He had an unfortunate tendency to believe that his position as a Knight of the Vale  made everyone obligated to indulge in his antics, regardless of their feelings. Lacking any sense of shame, he thought himself genuinely humorous – a truly dangerous combination.

As for her many suitors – many were from the Vale with ties to the House of Royce and Arryn She did have a letter once come all the way from the north, from Cregan Stark but that was too far for her liking. The wolf of the north or rather how she viewed him, “The dog” chose the side of the Blacks. The Starks continued the war beyond Rhaeynra Targaryens execution and took the head of the idle King Aegon. They had won if it was not for Vhaegars last fiery breath that he and his armies were turned to ash. Aemond thus made his claim of forced fidelity across all of Westeros. Even without the hoary old beast, Aemond was feared, respected and in some cases, beloved.

With her beauty and the tragic circumstances surrounding the death of her late ‘traitorous’ father, she inadvertently became the object of desire for many nearby lords. Over the past two years, it had been a skilful (yet discreet) manoeuvring that had allowed her to avoid their advances thus far. It was the first time in two years since she had worn any colour other than a mourning black.

Prince Daemon, her late father. He hailed from Kings Landing, a Targaryen prince, removed from the court by his own brother The King Viserys...father to the current King Aemond.

She did not spend much time with her own father and the little she remembered she felt discomfort by. Daemon had been the disagreeable solution to her mother’s long chosen spinsterhood, so hard to get along with and cruel in his words, it did not surprise her how he was so easily slain by Aemond. King Aemond who was now purportedly being waited upon at this very party. Poor lump, dear Daemon, and that entire house, a house she’d been mostly excluded from. Although, it wasn’t unlike them to have fought on until the bitter end. At least his end was famous, so she had been aware of his eternal departure at last.

But memories of his subtle tenderness were lit inside of her heart deep in the cold cracks where she had tried to hate him her whole life because she was told he was to blame for her dear mother’s death.

With them both gone, she wondered if the seven allowed them to bicker to each other or if there was final peace and forgiveness in their next lives.

It was fortunate that her shoes, adorned with gemstones and lace, were comfortable enough for the journey, despite their delicate appearance.

While nothing concerning had ever occurred within the palace grounds, she was increasingly aware of how strange their situation might appear. An encounter in the gardens seemed innocent enough, but a prolonged stroll through the darkness with a stranger might warrant the presence of at least one watchful knight, even in these peaceful surroundings. Though she had enjoyed his company so far, she knew she should probably excuse herself from his presence. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, he interrupted her.

“In the absence of another game of Cyvasse, I propose a different wager,” said Martyn with a light-hearted grin. “I bet I can discover yet another one of your secret hiding spots.” He chuckled, “After all, it’s my civic duty to the people of the Runestones to rid them of any dangerous goods stashed away here.” His smile remained charming, but there was a subtle hint of determination in his eyes. “Once I’ve done that, I assure you that I’ll leave you alone to do as you please, without further interference. What do you say?”

She paused in her stride, her curiosity piqued. A hint of surprise played on her face, her brows raised in inquiry. “Is that truly what you desire?” she asked, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Doesn’t such a pursuit seem rather mundane for someone of your station?” She considered him for a moment, her gaze sharp and observant.

Her previous doubts about his company were now firmly set aside. He was quite unlike any man she had met before. No adjectives seemed to quite capture him fully. Like the wind, his qualities hovered just outside her grasp. What better chance did she have to continue studying him? A sincere smile spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with warmth. With a nod of agreement, she eagerly accepted his challenge. “Alright, Ser Martyn,” she replied, her voice filled with a mischievous tone, “State your conditions.”

His smile widened as she agreed to the game. “Winning this little contest will likely require more than just luck,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Skill will be of the utmost importance, more than what is used playing cyvasse.” He walked beside her, his strides confident and easy, as he looked at her thoughtfully. “To make things a bit more...interesting,” he continued, “if I don’t succeed, I’ll share a secret about my king that no one else in the world knows.”

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile, and it was unclear whether he was jesting or being serious – perhaps a bit of both. The information he was offering could be utterly insignificant while still meeting the requirements, but there was a hint of mystery in his voice that suggested something noteworthy – even if it wasn’t necessarily of great importance.

“Wonderful, there is one nearby us. Let us see if you can find it in the gardens.”

She still found the game intriguing, but she knew they couldn’t linger any longer. It wasn’t just about possible dangers; she wanted to avoid drawing too much attention to their prolonged absence. As they continued along the path, she occasionally slowed her pace, but didn’t come to a complete stop. Instead, she waited patiently for him to carry out his inspections, maintaining a low profile as they went.

He took his time examining their surroundings, focusing intensely on the path before them. When they reached a long stone wall, he paused to run his fingers over the rough crevices between the protruding rocks. “No,” he murmured, shaking his head, “This wall is far too unremarkable.” He withdrew his hand and gestured to the length of the structure, which extended unbroken for sometime. “You’d want to create some sort of distinct marker or landmark to easily find your way back,” he mused aloud.

The realization she reached was that he was sizing her up just as much as he was examining the wall. By uttering these theories aloud, he was observing her reactions, gauging whether to probe further. After a brief pause, she responded with a playful, “You’ll have to be smarter than that.” She then turned the corner without waiting for him to follow, her steps quick but light.

Despite the unusual nature of this game, she reassured herself that it was perfectly harmless. The absence of a strict chaperone was more than made up for by the highly attentive guards who patrolled the area. Her elder cousin might be fond of peace, but he wasn’t a fool. Ignoring the potential danger posed by her current guest would be akin to releasing a fox into a chicken coop. True, the presence of guards in the gardens was sparse, given their secluded location, far from the warmth and light of the festivities. However, the gardens were still situated at the very core of the castle grounds. Every entrance and exit point was closely monitored by the vigilant sentries. Despite the enchanting aura of the twilight, she knew she was still within the safe embrace of her haven, surrounded by familiar comforts and security.

They rounded the corner and discovered an old fountain, its surface cracking and chipped. The fountain’s waters had dried up long ago, and it was nearly hidden by the encroaching ivy and vine that covered it. Despite the vegetation, the marble carving of two dragons could still be seen, still holding up strongly. On their chests were two runes carved deeply to ward off any evil spirits.

The Lord surveyed the base of the fountain with a keen eye, noting the loose soil there. “ah ha!” he remarked. “Secluded, yet still recognizable. I’d be willing to wager that I’ve found something interesting here.”

As he spoke, she padded quietly around the fountain, her gaze intently fixed on him with the same focused attention as before, betraying no sign of impatience. She studied him carefully, her observations still astute and intent.

“You have to work quickly and efficiently, Ser Martyn” she declared, a playful smirk on her face. “It wouldn’t be fair if I gave you an eternity to complete this challenge. I suggest two minutes as a reasonable limit.”

She provided him with a hint, offering a vague comment that revealed just enough without giving too much away. “You’re right. There’s something special about this dried up fountain... ” she said winking, deliberately keeping the information ambiguous. “And you have approximately one hundreds seconds left to discover it.”

He chuckled at her words but quickly got to work, rummaging through the leaves at the base of the fountain. After several moments of sifting through the foliage, he paused and examined something closely, a look of interest on his face.

He gestured for her to come closer. “Take a look at this,” he invited. She approached, puzzled by the situation. There should not have been anything there; burying objects directly into soil without an enclosure was generally discouraged. She had learned this lesson after witnessing Eldric bury a pouch of candy, only for it to be washed away by the rain and quickly infested with insects. Still, she could see the reasoning behind this approach.

“What did you find there, Ser Martyn?” she finally relented, moving closer to inspect the object. As she bent down, she found herself in an awkward position. It was becoming a bit ridiculous, and she was keenly aware that her party dress was not designed for crouching in bushes. She knelt down as best she could, her lips parting to question him again, when she could not see what mystery he had discovered.

But before she could voice her question, the chilling feeling of a blade’s edge came to rest against her throat. Confused and tense, she stood frozen in place. What was happening? Then she heard the Lord behind her, his tone deceptively casual yet undeniably threatening. “Keep silent my dear,” he said, a subtle mockery in his voice. Her heart racing, she could only manage a nod, her mind racing as she tried to understand the sudden change in tone.

There were numerous retorts that could be made and the most prominent one was, perhaps, “this isn’t funny” or “what are you playing at?” or even, her personal favorite, “have you gone insane, you daft arse.” However, her mind froze, unable to vocalize any thought. The pounding of her heart was deafening, drowning out the sound of her shallow breaths and the light breeze on her skin. What on earth was happening? The question echoed in her mind, yet the answer remained elusive. It was Ser Martyn, of all people, doing this. Why?

“Oh yes sweet princess,” the Lord murmured, his voice unnervingly calm. “One wrong move, and all that precious blood will stain your pretty dress. Let’s avoid making a mess.” Incredibly, he seemed to find her panic entertaining, his tone suggesting amusement. “Get up,” he ordered her.

Without thinking about it, she backed away from the knife, inching as far away as she could, but she made no move to stand up. It was as if she didn’t hear the threat, her mind overwhelmed by the pounding of her heart and the rush of thoughts buzzing through her head. She realized she had walked straight into his trap.

Lord Martyn let out a disappointed sigh, then quickly covered her mouth with one hand while using the other to lift her up, his grip firm and unyielding. She found herself pinned against him, her back pressed closely against his chest, and she couldn’t move. The knife remained at her neck, a silent warning.

The unexpected motion sent a jolt through her, waking her from her panicked daze. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, both comforting and repulsive at the same time. A stifled whimper escaped her lips, muffled by the palm against her mouth. Her mind raced, replaying his words over and over, her heart sinking as she considered her limited options.

It was highly unlikely that he would go through with it, she reasoned with herself. After all, what would be the point of all this if he simply wanted her dead? That was the logical approach to the situation. Gradually, the tautness in her limbs subsided, and even her breathing steadied. She held her breath, mentally preparing herself for just a moment. Waiting.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Did he intend to rape her in the gardens? Where was her annoying Set Trevor? Where was the cycling guards?

“I do apologize for this unexpected turn of events,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all. “But as long as you behave yourself... “ Before he could finish his sentence, she lashed out, kicking wildly backwards and attempting to tear herself free from his grip. He was clearly much stronger than her, but if she could catch him off guard for even a moment...

Her foot landed back on his inner thigh, yet he did not stagger. He growled in her ear, grunting with her wriggling. With a single, lightning-fast motion, his knife sliced through the fabric and lace of her sleeve, drawing blood from the cut beneath. She couldn’t even scream, her cry stifled by his hand.

The sudden cut inflicted a jolt of pain, and she let out another muffled cry, her fingers frantically clawing at his hand, desperate to loosen his grip. She twisted and writhed in a desperate attempt to free herself, and she aimed a sharp kick backwards, stomping heavily on his toes. Her muffled voice pleaded, “Release me!” but the sound was lost against his palm.

Her hot blood dribbled down her chest.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her easily so that her kicking feet were no longer a threat to his knees and shins. The feeling of his warm body against her own sent a shiver through her, an unwelcome closeness that she couldn’t escape.

As she thought to use her nails to her advantage, something unusual happened. Her fingers started to feel strangely numb. Everything felt distant and disoriented, as if she was in a dream. Yet, the sharp sting of agony from the knife wound cut through the fog, a concentrated burn that made her wince. Could it be poison? Her weakening limbs scraped weakly at the hand covering her mouth, a pathetic attempt to claw free from his grip. Her muffled cries turned into faint whimpers.

She had no way of keeping track of the passing seconds and minutes as her strength dwindled. Her hands fell uselessly to her sides, all fight gone. Someone would come – they had to come. She would be rescued from this awful man, whoever he was – there was no way he was a nobleman, surely not, who was this false Ser Martyn. The world swirled around her, a dizzying dance of shadows closing in. This had to be a dream. It had to be.

Her limbs felt as though they weighed a hundred pounds each, growing sluggish and unresponsive. The grip that had been firmly fastened around her loosened, and she was lifted up into the air. The tenderness with which she was carried was a strange contradiction to the violence that had occurred just moments ago. Through the fog that enveloped her senses, she could faintly hear voices around her.

Ser Martyn’s voice rang out abruptly. “We left during the play, Ser Gilbar.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied his companion. “They were in the midst of the final act, It has not long left now.” 

“Fantastic,” the Lord continued. “Return to the troop. Hurry them along if they’re not done already. Skip a few scenes if you must, and ensure everyone returns here afterward. How many guards have you left to kill?”

“Three.”

She was being carried somewhere, her thoughts racing as she felt her mind slowly slipping away. How could this lowly Lord think he could get away with kidnapping her, a highborn lady? Did he not fear her cousin’s ire? Or the wrath of the Green King, who was infamous for his ruthlessness? Was the monarch involved in this scheme? Had everything been a deception from the start?

A soft sound of assent, followed by the rustle of someone moving away. With the departure of that person, the cool night air enveloped her once more, and a dull sensation of grass beneath her back pricked gently at her senses. As her blood continued to trickle from her wounded arm, staining and ruining her delicate sleeve.

A tender touch gently lifted the mask from her face, and through the haze of her lashes, the Lord’s visage loomed before her. Her body stiffened in response, a flicker of awareness surging through her.

Her limbs longed to struggle against the sight of him, but the numbing effects of the poison were too powerful, sapping her of all energy and capacity to move.

She was utterly powerless to halt his movements as he extended a finger to touch her cheek, carefully sweeping her hair aside. As he studied her features with a discerning gaze, it seemed as though he regarded her almost admiringly, as if he possessed some coveted prize.

In the blink of an eye, the world dissolved into darkness once more.

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒:

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

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